Years ago, at a child’s birthday party, I was standing with the other adults at the edge of the controlled chaos - we formed a circle of loving calm around a cluster of small children running, playing and excitedly screaming. “Which one is yours?” the woman standing next to me politely attempted to make conversation. It was the first time I had been asked this question so I hadn’t expected it. I smiled, and probably made a weird giggling/laugh noise as I replied, “None of them.” It was awkward, she smiled and turned back to her friends. I felt that invisible line between parent and non-parent publicly for the first time. And, let’s be honest, the invisible line between mother and non-mother is about a kilometre wide in some circles and circumstances. That day I learnt that parents liked speaking with other parents and being the lone, unattached adult at a children’s party was sort of weird for everyone.
I stayed back to help pack up - one of my coping mechanisms was to be a helper and look like I had a purpose, and I watched the parents gather their tired children into their fancy family-sized cars. I picked up rubbish, hugged my little fairy goddaughter, got into my aging hatchback and went home feeling incredibly lonely, sad and left out of life. I was single, in my mid-30s and childless by circumstance. I was the only one of my friends who did not have children.
Being childless by circumstance, not choice, can bring with it a deep and profound grief. It’s a different sort of grief because it can be hard to articulate its depths. How can we grieve so deeply for something (someone) we don’t know and a life we may never have? How on earth can we explain our grief to the lucky ones (the people who have children or are childless by choice)? Women who are childless by circumstance often tell me that the invisible line can even fracture friendships over time. It takes a lot of concerted effort on both sides for a friendship to continue to thrive despite it. The parent-friend has a completely understandable focus on their family which takes a huge amount of energy and attention. The childless-friend watches on with genuine joy for their friend and grief for themselves which can often lead to a step in / step out dynamic as their grief moves between manageable and unmanageable day to day, week to week, month to month. The invisible line, if left unacknowledged, can create host of casualties.
But let’s stay focused on the experiences of childless women because they have stayed quiet about this - have lived alone with the pain, for long enough. People doesn’t ask her how she is because there are no templates for how to have those conversations - and she feels like she can’t talk about it too much because she doesn’t know how to (she is also flying blind without that template or support). Isolation grows in the silence.
So, how do we start dismantling the invisible line without being able to instantly create whole new societal structures that value women at all ages and stages in their lives? Let’s just start by talking about it. There are women leading invisible lives filled with grief. Let’s see her! She is a strong woman leading an incredible life and she is carrying an indescribable grief with her. Let’s acknowledge that extra load she is carrying and offer to hold it with her. She has had to intentionally channel her energy into alternate directions and alongside her achievements (which we should celebrate!) she is excluded from a life she would have chosen for herself. Let’s sit down and listen without placating, without giving false hope, without needing to make it better for her. Let’s hold her in her grief. Let’s remind her (over and over again if necessary) that it’s OK to not be OK. Let’s make space for her.