Why is being a mother always the highest good?

Recently, an unnamed Important Modemens posted a photo on Instagram with a jubilant text about another unnamed Important Modemens in which the successes of the latter were mentioned. She was a successful artist, now a designer, employs thousands of people, “and above all, she is a mother of 4 children.” And that, that sometimes rubs me the wrong way.

That woman has built an empire, is famous all over the world, and everyone is crazy about (and in) her designs. But that she has given birth to four children, that is the most important thing? Yes, it is indeed very special to bring a new life into the world and so on, but in theory, that is something that every woman can do (exceptions aside, of course), so is it really that exceptionally beautiful? I mean, it is not something that another person could not do by definition. It bothers me that it is still considered more important for women whether they produce offspring and that so often there is not a pure focus on her business achievements.

“Have you ever read about a CEO of a top company that it is so impressive that he has achieved this and that and is also a father?”

It is hopelessly sexist. Have you ever read about a male CEO of a top company that it is so impressive that he has achieved this and that and is also a father? That never happens, no one crows about it because it is about his success in his working life. So why not for the woman? Women are also guilty of this themselves. You often read in interviews with great important female celebrities that they are indeed very proud of their Forbes ranking or 26th box office hit or new mega hit, but ultimately motherhood is what they are most proud of. Which is perhaps understandable; being a mother is heavier than any job and does not limit itself to 40 hours a week. I am certainly not blind to that.

But in addition to that, there is another thing that bothers me, and that is that it implies that a woman is not truly successful as long as she is not a mother. I like to call that the “Jennifer Aniston Effect.” The best woman has made thousands of films, starred in the most famous series ever and is worth tens of millions. But anyone who googles her name immediately sees “children,” “children” and “pregnant” as related search terms. Interviews invariably revolve around her childlessness, rumors about infertility never stop, and if she is photographed in a slightly less flattering dress, everyone screams murder and mayhem because could she finally be pregnant? Women who have a long relationship but (still) have no offspring are always in trouble because they constantly get asked “when they are going to start having children.” Not ‘if,’ but ‘when.’ A woman is often, or at least more often than a man, reduced to the use of her uterus.

Am I then a lesser person because I have not used my uterus for the continuation of humanity?

A woman who does not want (or have) children would be hard, cold, selfish, and ignorant. I am increasingly realizing that I have a questionable desire for children, but I have never really put that on Amayzine before. And even now I do it in a toned-down form. When I drop it in a conversation, the response is always: “oh wait, that will come.” As if I couldn't make decisions now. What if I just want to arrange my life differently, if I think that it does not suit me, am I then a lesser person because I have not used my uterus for the continuation of humanity? Does it then not matter at all what I will achieve in my further life socially and professionally? And we haven't even talked about women who want to, but cannot have children. The question of when the toddlers and preschoolers will come is then really brutally hard and oh so painful.

So yes, it weighs heavily on me. My feminist nature has a hard time with it, and because of the possibility that I do not want to become a mother myself, I find it derogatory. To me, to Jennifer, and to all like-minded individuals. There is more to life than caring and nurturing, and that this is still not a given in 2015 I find downright sad. If my life turns out differently than I think now, then that is the first thing I will teach my child.