Earlier this week, I was perusing Instagram when I came across a post by a food blogger that I follow. It was a picture of her infant daughter sitting on a beach with the caption “You don’t know what the expression ‘my heart is full’ means until you become a mama”. Instantly, my blood was boiling, which was annoying because generally that only happens when I’m on Facebook. Her post brought to the surface a few things I’ve been thinking about at length lately…what does it mean to be happy? What does it mean to be fulfilled? What does it meant to be successful? How does society influence what we perceive to be a good life? And why is being a parent the benchmark?

I’ve known since I was a kid that being a parent wasn’t for me. I dreamed of traveling, having a job that positively impacted others, spending time with my family, reading good books, sharing my home with dogs, sharing my life with someone (maybe), but never of having children. As a teenager, this would occasionally come up in conversation with adults (not my parents, who’ve never given two shits about whether or not I had kids) and they’d always assure me that I’d change my mind when I got older. Those assurances continued well into my 20s. Even as a youngster this struck me as insulting. What did it matter to them if I had kids? Why the need to be condescending? So what if I changed my mind? And so began 30+ years of “defending” my choice. An abbreviated list of comments made to me:

• I’ll regret it.
• Who will take care of me when I’m old?
• I’m selfish.
• I don’t know what it means to be happy/fulfilled.
• I don’t know what it means to be tired/exhausted/in pain/challenged/etc.
• I’m missing out.
• My life is easy/simple.
• When M was deployed, I was “lucky” that it was just me. Similarly, when he had his accident, I was “lucky” we didn’t have kids.
• What does my husband think?

At times when I was younger, I was as guilty as the insensitive commenter. I’d agree that I was “lucky” we didn’t have kids when M was deployed; I’d agree that I was selfish; I’d agree that my life was easy because it’s just us. More recently, I’ve pushed back against such statements. Mostly because the older I get, the more I appreciate how freaking complicated and messy life is for everyone. No one has it easy, even if they tell you they do. I’m uncomfortable with parenting being the benchmark by which we measure emotions and experiences. In a broader context, I’m more interested in how we add-to the world, versus take-away-from, and while raising good kids would certainly be a big check mark in the add-to column, I don’t think it’s the only check nor do I buy in to an artificial hierarchy of contribution based on offspring.

As I got into my mid-late 30s, I began to realize that most of the cringe-worthy comments had more to do with the person who said them than me. (In many ways, getting older is such a wonderful blessing.) Some of it is innocent, in that people don’t realize they’re being insensitive. In other cases, I think my choice forced people to consider their own choices. I’ve had similar experiences recently when talking about my career…I’m no longer invested in climbing ladders, job titles or the amount of the paycheck and it doesn’t always resonate. (What I am invested in is spending time with my family and friends, hanging out with my dog, traveling, sleep (!!), and doing my part to make the world a better place.) I believe some people go through life following a path society expects…marriage, kids, career, house, etc, not because it’s their hearts’ desire, but because it’s just what people do. When confronted with someone who’s intentionally taken a different path, I think it can be discomfiting, which sometimes gets projected back to me. At 41, I’m ok with this. At 25, it just pissed me off, mostly because I didn’t understand. (Again, the blessings of age!)

We all have the challenge of sorting through the noise and determining what matters most to us. If we’re lucky, how we spend our time aligns closely with what we believe is important. Society tells us that success is 2.2 kids, having a job with a fancy title and a fat paycheck, and being skinny. For some that may very well be the definition of happiness and fulfillment. For others, it looks very different. May we all do the hard work of identifying our priorities and then doing everything we can to ensure how we spend our time aligns closely with those priorities. And if it doesn’t? It’s on us to make changes. For my part, I will work hard to not calibrate or qualify someone’s experience against my own…someone doesn’t need to have an autoimmune condition to know crushing fatigue, or be a marathoner to know hard work. Diminishing their experience doesn’t lift up mine. Also, I will cheer on those around me as they work to discover their own definition of happiness/fulfillment…because it’s kind of like the flight attendants say at the beginning of a flight, we must put on our own oxygen mask before helping others. If we are content and fulfilled, we are able to be more present for our loved ones and better-positioned to do more good in the world, which is really what it’s all about I think.

And about that Instagram post, it has since been taken down. Another follower and I both commented respectfully, and rather than respond and leave the post, she deleted it. Had she said “I didn’t know what the expression ‘my heart is full’ meant until I became a mama”, I would’ve scrolled right on by, but the moment she said that I don’t know what it means to have a full heart because I’m not a “mama”, she made it about me and all of her followers. And I wholeheartedly disagree with her statement…no pun intended. 🙂

“Your work is discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.” ~Buddha