Motherhood: Overcoming Should's and Ought-to's

For the past three decades, I have been a mother; for six decades, a daughter. These relationships are paramount in my life. As I write this document of sharing, I realize that people have some knowledge of experiences of motherhood, though perhaps without the longevity. For me, the problem of "should's and ought-to's" which affect these roles. I did not fully appreciate how universal my concerns related to motherhood are until I consulted my personal library. (I "should" read more!) I cite the following:

For most mothers it is impossible to escape the ubiquitous idea that some mothers are "good", others "'bad", and that some mother practices are "right" and others "wrong". These ideas about mothers pervade our lives. Texts, images, interpersonal interactions, codes, and laws all drench us in messages about what constitutes good and bad mothering and who the good and bad mothers are. (Mothering Against the Odds, Diverse Voices Of Contemporary Mothers, Coll, Surrey, and Weingarten, The Guilford Press, New York, l998)

My problem of several decades duration is apparently familiar to other mothers. Each mother experiences her own version of "shoulds and ought'to's". This "ubiquitous idea" is rendered personal by ones own day to day life, past, present, and future. Here is my story of my experience of the dictates and messages given to mothers in our culture. The evolution of my resistance to these ideas is in progress.

"Should's and ought-to's" cause palpable pain to me and to my daughters. They solidify messages of inadequacy, personal and professional, for all three of us. They rob us of our commitment to one another. We become isolated in our particular worlds of school, work, and play. The problem prohibits sharing. Each of us perceives that our position of independence is non-negotiable. Everyday society convinces us that we "should" individuate. Separate from each other, we "ought-to" be invested in career, achievement, and financial gain. Friends "should" be more important than family because this is the dictate of the teen culture. The effect of evaluation, competition, and desires for fame and fortune divides us. I worry into the night. What of their futures? And, conversely, they can come close to panic when planning for their years ahead. Each of us is defining tomorrow in terms of security, mostly financial and professional. We languish in our solitude, an aloneness invited by the "should's and ought-to's" of our culturally defined roles. I "should" be responsible for the care and feeding of my offspring. They "ought-to" be successful in their ventures to reward my vigilance to their needs.

I wonder about my history of "should's and ought-to's". This persistent pain is not new to me. My childhood, to no one's surprise, I am sure, was replete with dictates similar to those I am encountering in my adult years. Doing my best was a challenge that had no clear definition. Over twenty years ago, my father died wondering exactly what was to become of his only daughter, since, to his final moments, he doubted my competency. My mother gave me no support to believe otherwise. The women's movement, a major force to me, a woman of the '60's, only guaranteed that I, as a female and a mother, "should" have the opportunity to be all things to all people all the time. I learned quite well from our male-dominated world to be task- driven, rather than relationship-driven. My children "ought-to", at all costs to themselves and to me, earn straight A's (in spite of severe learning disabilities), be recognized athletes and musicians, and, of course, be invited to all the birthday parties. Even their routine illnesses were signals that I had failed. Super-mom did not care for them adequately. This history includes little recognition of the happiness of just being together.

So the litany has progressed until recently. Five years ago, a series of circumstantial agonies, ranging from severe illness and injuries to criminal assaults, began to plague our family. For privacy reasons, I choose not to relate the details. In actuality, the particulars are not relevant. This has been a time of reflection for me. I began to notice that my life and the lives of my daughters could be experienced differently. We had histories of laughter and love, together. Today I am preferring, even celebrating, our connections. I search photograph albums to relish the fun we shared. We discuss our favorite vacations and giggle over memories of Halloween costumes and prom plans, realized or not. I respectfully negotiate the tenuous territory of each girl's plans for their futures, theirs, not mine for them. Daily, no perhaps hourly, I practice resistance to invitations from familiar foes, "should's and outght-to's".

I do not walk this path alone. My friends and my husband join me. Also with me is my powerful awareness of the cultural and historical messages of "good" and "bad" in our culture and our history, the effects of which are subtle, which is an understatement. I also honor my personal legacy of caring, an inheritance from my physician- father. My grandparents join my efforts to honor humanity. I come from a background of connection-driven, not task-driven, philosophy. My heritage speaks to a revolutionary ideal taught to me by my Russian immigrant ancestors: my world is about people, not the cultural dictates of "good" and "bad".

Each time I have a conversation with one of my daughters, I remember that I respect my commitment to honor connections, not tasks. I am ever mindful of the cultural invitations that "drench us in messages about what constitutes good and bad mothering and who the good and bad mothers are." (Coll, Surrey, and Weingarten) Motherhood is about love; I am about loving.

Submitted by Susi Kohan