As I was mulling over the subject of "coming out" as a childless person, and who we tell our stories to and why, Brooke had an interesting post about the book she is writing about Eliza (yay!), and the subject of self-promotion. Here's part of what she said (but do go over & read the whole post!):   

A couple of years ago, I started looking into agents and publishers and what I discovered is that to publish nonfiction, they mostly want you to already have some kind of platform on social media.

Here's the thing, though: I don't want to be a public figure. I don't want to run social media like it's my job. I want to have private accounts, to accept followers I know, and to post photos of my toddler eating a hunk of cheese without second guessing whether it's the kind of content people want to see (of course it is, right? We're all here for the cheese content). I don't want strangers to DM me and criticize me/my kids/my parenting/my grief. I do not have thick enough skin for that nonsense.

So I started talking to a friend and fellow baby-loss mom about the process of self-publishing. I'll be honest: as someone who reads a lot and got my PhD in a profession that is known for the slogan "publish or perish" when it comes to academic publishing, my initial feelings about self-publishing were that it was a kind of failure. It was what you do when you can't really get published. But the thing about really getting published, especially nonfiction memoir books, is that it takes more than writing talent. It enormous effort, lots of rejection, and a willingness to market and brand yourself.

That last part is where I hit a wall. I don't want to sell my book. I don't want to market it or advertise it or ask people to pre-order it. I don't want to be a brand. I don't want that pressure. I just want to make it available. 

I get this.  I've always said that I blog first and foremost for myself.  My blog is more of a "personal" blog than a "crusading" or promotional blog. As someone who will soon hit 60 (!) and who will mark her 13th (!!) blogoversary this month, I guess I now fall into what Gateway Women's Jody Day terms the "childless elders" segment of the childless-not-by-choice (CNBC) online community.  I'm really happy to know that so many people have found my blog over the years and relate to it in some way -- that at least some of my posts resonate with them and have even helped them. It's been pretty amazing to have been among the first few women blogging about this CNBC life, and to watch our community grow and flourish. I'm floored by the numbers of younger women taking up the torch these days -- maybe not on blogs, but on platforms like Instagram and Twitter and on podcasts (I think podcasts are the blogs of 2020;  it seems like everyone is starting one these days...!). 

I love my blog;  I'm so happy I've had it as an outlet for the past 13 years. I'm comfortable with it as a way of expressing myself and connecting with others who are childless not by choice -- and somehow, I keep finding things to write about. I reach out and comment on other people's blogs, if I think I have something to say, and I "like" & sometimes comment on CNBC social media posts. But as far as actively promoting/marketing my blog -- creating a "brand," building a "platform," trying to build an audience and monitoring my stats anxiously -- that's not me.  I'm not knocking those of you who do any of those things;  in fact, I admire you for putting in the time & effort and having the energy and the marketing savvy. 

But, as I admitted in the comments to Brooke on her blog post, when it comes to self-promotion, I'm basically lazy, lol.  I'm still not "out of the closet" enough to share my posts on my current (personal) social media accounts. Most of my "real life" family members & friends still don't know about my blog (although some of them know that I have "online friends"), and I'm still not comfortable sharing everything in it with them.  I know some people keep separate accounts for for public/CNBC & personal stuff, but that seems like a lot of extra work to me (plus, I think I'd live in dread as to whether I accidentally posted content meant for one account on another!). I don't want to live by a posting schedule and then feel the pressure of writing to meet those deadlines (I did enough of that at work! lol). I like being able to write what I want, when I want, when the mood strikes me. I do try to take part in Mel's #MicroblogMondays, and to write a "Right Now" post at or near the first of each month, and reviews of the books I read, shortly after I finish them, but if they don't get done, or done exactly on time, it's not a big deal.  

As Brooke said, "I don't want to be a public figure. I don't want to run social media like it's my job... I don't want to be a brand. I don't want that pressure. I just want to make it available." -- "it" in her case being her book;  in my case, my blog.  

What do you think? 

October 11th was National Coming Out Day in the United States, marking the anniversary of the 1987 National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights. According to Wikipedia: 

National Coming Out Day (NCOD) is an annual LGBT awareness day observed on October 11, to support lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people (and sometimes other groups typically grouped within the LGBT community) to "come out of the closet". First celebrated in the United States in 1988, the initial idea was grounded in the feminist and gay liberation spirit of the personal being political, and the emphasis on the most basic form of activism being coming out to family, friends and colleagues, and living life as an openly lesbian or gay person. The foundational belief is that homophobia thrives in an atmosphere of silence and ignorance, and that once people know that they have loved ones who are lesbian or gay, they are far less likely to maintain homophobic or oppressive views.

HRC (Human Rights Campaign) says 

...one of our most basic tools is the power of coming out. One out of every two Americans has someone close to them who is gay or lesbian. For transgender people, that number is only one in 10.

Coming out — whether it is as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer — STILL MATTERS. When people know someone who is LGBTQ, they are far more likely to support equality under the law. Beyond that, our stories can be powerful to each other.

In honor of National Coming Out Day, HRC celebrates all who have come out as LGBTQ – that takes bravery, and we commend you. Every person who speaks up changes more hearts and minds, and creates new advocates for equality.

The Awareness Days entry for NCOD says: 

There is no question that homophobia and ignorance builds on silence so it is time to end that silence. Being proud of who you are and who you live will make you happier within yourself. Research has shown that if somebody KNOWS somebody who is part of the LGBT community, they are much less likely to be homophobic.

*** *** *** 

Now, I'm not "coming out" as LGBTQ.  :)  I'm happily heterosexual (or cis-gender, or whatever the current terminology is). 

But I think there is a lot that many of us within the childless-not-by-choice (& likely also the childfree by choice) community relate to when we talk about the LGBTQ community, and "coming out."  People without children may be a minority group -- but we're a large, growing and unrecognized one (not to mention often misunderstood). As CNBCers, we have struggled to define who we are, if we aren't parents, to make our presence and voices and unique concerns heard within highly pronatalist societies, and to assert our rights to fair and equal treatment in the workplace vis-a-vis parents. In doing so, we've drawn strength and inspiration from examples of the LGBTQ rights movement and other social justice movements that have worked to bring greater equality to under-recognized and under-supported minority groups. Some of us have talked about the parallels, and our belief that, as a community, as a movement, childless and childfree people today are where the civil rights movement was in the 1960s, and the gay rights movement was in the 1970s & 80s.  Jody Day of Gateway Women has called us "the biggest diversity group HR has never heard of."   

Some CNBCers have spoken or written about "coming out" to our friends and family members. This was the subject of discussion recently on a private forum I belong to. 

I said that I think "coming out," for us, is a somewhat different thing than "coming out" as LGBTQ. (Would our use of "coming out" qualify as co-opting LGBTQ language? I wonder, would they resent others using this terminology? Or maybe they don't care?) People might suspect that their son or daughter or sibling or friend or co-worker is LGBTQ -- but there's no way of knowing for certain unless that person chooses to "come out of the closet" and tell you. 

As a CNBCer, most of the people in my life know I don't have children. Those who don't know usually ask & find out pretty quickly. My lack of children may be something that I find difficult to talk about sometimes, I may (still) feel a certain amount of shame about it -- but it's not a secret;  it's not something that I try to hide. (You won't get very far pretending to be a parent, right?)  So I don't think the simple fact of telling someone I have no children qualifies as "coming out" as CNBC. 

What do we mean when we talk about "coming out" as a childless/free person, then?  I suppose different people might have different qualifying criteria. (If you've been trying to conceive but decided not to continue with fertility treatments or adoption efforts, and then break that news to your family, I think that might qualify as "coming out.") What am I telling people when I tell them that I don't have children? What do they THINK I'm telling them?  What do they think they know about me when they hear that?  What kind of a picture do they get about my life?  And how accurate is it? 

Because, of course, there are sooooo many stereotypes that parents have about people without children. You know: we didn't want kids. Or maybe we wanted them -- but not badly enough to try IVF, or to adopt, or to use a donor egg or hire a surrogate. We're selfish. We're focused on our careers. We have lots of money!  Our time is our own!  We can sleep in on weekends! We can take fabulous trips!  (At least, in non-COVID times.) We can do whatever we want, when we want!  

Maybe they don't know that we did want children, very badly. Or maybe they know, but they don't know the full story of why we didn't -- that we never met the right partner to have a baby with. Or that we struggled with infertility &/or pregnancy loss -- how many rounds of IVF we did, or how much money it cost us, how many mornings we got up at 4 a.m. to make it to the clinic for bloodwork and ultrasounds and still make it into the office relatively on time. Do they know how many miscarriages we had, or how long we waited on the adoption list before withdrawing our names? Do they understand how difficult it is for you, still, to attend that baby shower?  

To me, "coming out" as a childless/free person means speaking out, frankly, to the people in our lives about the realities of childless/free living, both the good and the bad. Screwing up the courage to confront them about these stereotypes and correct their misguided assumptions. Educating them about the reality of our lives and our childlessness, and how it has affected us. Confronting them with the privileged (yes, privileged) role they enjoy as parents. Helping them to understand the pronatalism we face and how difficult it is to live without children -- even by choice -- in this kind of atmosphere. Enlightening them that being childless is not all about sleeping in and having extra money to spend, and that yes, as a matter of fact, we DO mind that it's always us working overtime and coming into the office over Christmas week while they spend time with their families. (We have families we like to spend time with too, even if they don't include kids that we gave birth to or parent.) 

These can be... are... difficult conversations to have. 

Do I practice what I preach? Am I "out of the closet"?  Do I speak my truth and live authentically and openly as a childless-not-by-choice person.  

I have to admit... ummm... no. Not entirely. I'm getting better at doing it, as I get older. But there are others who are far more open about their childlessness and the impact it has had on their lives. 

Someone on the forum where we were discussing this mentioned "coming out" in terms of (nervously) sharing some CNBC content on social media during World Childless Week -- and being surprised by the supportive responses she received. "Coming out" on social media is certainly one way of doing it -- and it's not quite so direct/in your face as confronting people personally... so perhaps it's a good way to dip your toe in the water, so to speak. I have posted and shared a few things around Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month, and our daughter's "anniversary" dates -- and I too have been surprised by the number of "likes" and "hearts" and sympathetic comments I've received.  For some reason, I find it easier to post about my stillborn daughter and pregnancy loss generally than about being childless, though. Clearly, I have further progress to make on this front...! 

My blog is certainly one place where I can be the authentic childless me. Some people choose to "come out" by being open with their family & friends about their blog and about their involvement in the childless/free community. There are only a few of my "real life" family & friends who know about my blog, although a few have stumbled onto it by accident -- and one posted the link to one of my posts on our family Facebook group (!).  When that happened (8 years ago now), I panicked & took my blog offline for a few days until the dust settled. These days I'm a little more laid back on the subject (I think?) -- although I'm still not handing out the URL, lol.  

By and large, we probably have more to gain than to lose by being honest with ourselves and those around us about the truth of our childless lives. But at the same time, we have to recognize that everyone's situation and comfort level is different.  I don't think we owe it to anyone but ourselves to "come out." We don't owe explanations to anyone. It's your right to choose who gets the privilege of hearing your story, and how much of it. (The director's cut with all the gory details, or the Reader's Digest version?) 

I'm still mulling this all over... these are just a few initial thoughts. I would love to hear what you think! 

As I've mentioned in some previous posts, my L.M. Montgomery Readathon group on Facebook is currently going through "The Blue Castle," possibly my all-time favourite LMM novel, and one of my all-time favourite books, period. 

We're currently on Chapter 8, and there was a line near the end that we were asked to discuss.  

First, a little background on the story so far. 

(Warning: Some potential plot spoilers ahead.) 

Our heroine, Valancy Sterling, is 29 years old and an "old maid," trapped in an ugly house with her overbearing mother and cousin, part of a large, overbearing family in the staid Ontario town of Deerwood. She's never really had a life. 

And then she learns she has less than a year to live. 

In Chapter 8, after receiving this diagnosis, Valancy spends a sleepless night, mentally reviewing the long list of indignities she's suffered in her 29 years... and finds she's not afraid of death. 

"I've been trying to please other people all my life and failed," she said. "After this, I shall please myself. I shall never pretend anything again. I've breathed an atmosphere of fibs and pretences and evasions all my life. What a luxury it will be to tell the truth! I may not be able to do much that I want to do but I won't do another thing that I don't want to do. Mother can pout for weeks -- I shan't worry over it. 'Despair is a free man -- hope is a slave.”  [emphasis mine]

One of the discussion questions for this chapter asked "What do you think she means?"  

I answered: 

The hope that something is going to change, that things are going to get better, will sometimes keep us tied to certain places or people or situations far longer than perhaps it should -- e.g., people who stay in a bad marriage because they keep hoping that their partner will change or that things are going to improve. Despair -- the hopelessness of her diagnosis -- has freed Valancy to do as she pleases with the time she has left to her. She has nothing left to lose, because she is about to lose her life, and that realization has set her free.

What I didn't say was how much this made me think of infertility -- of how the hope of having a baby keeps some of us hanging on (often by a thread) -- returning to the clinic for cycle after cycle after cycle, spending time and money and reserves of physical, mental and emotional energy that we often can't really afford, in pursuit of a dream that may or may not come true. Some do eventually meet with success... but some of us hit rock bottom -- the depths of despair (to use another LMM/Anne of Green Gables phrase ;)  ) -- the point where, like Valancy, we realize we can't live this way any longer -- and, moreover, we don't have to.  We have a choice to make:  we can continue to live like this, hoping that something (that's generally beyond our control) will change -- or we can take control of what we can and live our lives in a different way. That's the point where we regain our freedom. 

Yes, it's a life without the children we wanted, a life we didn't plan for or expect to be living. But it's a life where we're free to imagine and pursue new and perhaps more realistic dreams and goals for ourselves.  

Postscript:  After I wrote my response to the group, and had most of this post written, one of the LMM scholars who runs the group and occasionally posts about the literary allusions found in her books, weighed in with a post that identified the original quote as a proverb attributed to Ali, a Muslim caliph and son-in-law of the Islamic prophet Muhammad. He also directed us to a post on his website, which adds: 

Simon Ockley, who compiled ʿAlī’s sayings in his book The History of the Saracens, offers the following explanation of this proverb in a footnote: “So long as a man is in expectation, his thoughts are in suspense, and he is in a slavish condition; but as soon as he gives over his pursuit, he is free and at liberty.”

I also noticed, browsing through my blog reader, that Mel, Mali and Jess all had recent posts dealing with hope. More food for thought! :) 

• If it's not COVID-19 keeping us inside our condo, it's the heat & humidity -- and if it's not THAT, it's the ongoing (still!!) construction noise & dust/dirt blowing around behind our building. Even just being able to have our balcony door open makes SUCH a difference in feeling less cooped up, but heat/humidity & noise/dust often preclude that lately... :(  
• Being stuck at home today, COVID notwithstanding:  they are power-washing our underground parking garage (done at least annually), and all cars had to be out of the garage by 9 a.m. Presumably a lot of people would be at work during the day, but of course a lot more people are working at home because of COVID right now, plus it's summer, so a lot of people are taking holidays.  And our building has a lot of retired residents too. There are something like 140 parking spots in the garage, and only about 30 spots in visitor parking (which we are not allowed to use other than this one day a year). The overflow has to go on the side streets in the neighbourhood behind us (which is where dh parked our car this morning). The job is supposed to be done by 5 p.m., but never is, and it's always a sh**show when people start returning home in the evening, can't access the garage and abandon their cars in the laneway (and block it)(which of course they are not supposed to do...!).  
• Political posts (and comments!)  on social media (from American, Canadian AND UK friends/relatives!). :p (And I fear there will be more, with a U.S. election coming up this fall, and possibly a Canadian federal one too...!) 
• Reminders in my Facebook memories of the fun we were having this time last year, and other summers past. Sigh...
• An overflowing/backlogged email inbox. I subscribe to a lot of (okay, way too many) newsletters/news summaries from newspapers and other media outlets/journalists, and I have great ambitions/delusions that I'm going to get around to reading them all... someday... 

I stumbled onto this post in my Instagram feed this morning by The Dovecote, a UK-based organization that supports childless women (it's actually a repost from a bakery called The Kitsch Hen!).  When I saw that today is apparently "Rainbow Baby Day," I winced a little. I love rainbows, and I am so happy for my friends who got their "rainbow baby" ...but of course, any talk of "rainbow babies" is always a reminder that I didn't get mine, that (as some childless friends have put it) I've been stuck standing outside in the pouring rain these past 22 years, metaphorically speaking. ;)  

So I was happy to read on in the post (always read the whole post, people!) and get a thrill of recognition that my childless tribe had not been forgotten. :) That, in fact, someone recognizes that those storm clouds still might have a silver lining, that the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow might not be a baby after all. Thank you, The Dovecote & The Kitsch Hen!  I don't often share stuff like this on my own social media feeds, but I shared this one on Facebook because I was so tickled. 

(And because of this post & my desire to share it, I learned how to embed an Instagram post into my blog, so there's that too..!)

View this post on Instagram

Absolutely adore these by my lovely and super talented friend @thekitschhen 🌈💜💜 I’m so pleased you realised it was today... and was able to share these little beauties and your beautiful words with us 🕊🤍🤍🤍 ... sometimes our rainbows 🌈 look a little different to what we’d imagined & dreamed of 💭🕊🤍🤍🤍 #Repost @thekitschhen with @get_repost ・・・ Today is national rainbow baby day (thank you @kellydasilvafertilitysupport for highlighting this to me in your post) - I had no idea when I was icing these biscuits for Lucy @_mother_of_one_ yesterday but it feels super fitting to post a picture of them today. 🌈 Rainbow baby day marks the light that comes after the clouds, and the miracle babies that come after loss. 🌈 So this morning I’m sending love to those who have their rainbows to hold after their heartache. I’m thinking of those who are still patiently waiting and hoping for their miracle to arrive, and I’m holding a huge space in my heart for those of us who chose to look for a different rainbow and seek the silver linings in our clouds to find joy, purpose and meaning in a life that looks a little different from how we imagined. 🌈 Have a beautiful weekend friends, and remember you are right where you need to be.

A post shared by The Dovecote 🕊 (@thedovecote.org_official_) on Aug 22, 2020 at 1:40am PDT

We had appointments for haircuts that morning in our old community, and after that, we picked up some flowers at the nearby supermarket (the one where we used to shop when we lived there) and took them to the cemetery for a short visit before heading home. A lot of the "traditions" & things we used to do on this day have kind of fallen by the wayside in recent years, and we already had dinner planned for that night, but dh asked me if I'd like to order in Chinese food on Saturday night, which we did. (The night we arrived home from the hospital 22 years ago -- along with my mother, who dropped everything to fly to my hospital beside -- we were all too tired and drained to cook, so we ordered in Chinese food -- and thus began that tradition...!) 

I posted a couple of photos from the cemetery on Facebook and Instagram, and had a flurry of lovely comments & reactions from friends & family members -- including an unexpected message on Facebook Messenger from a classmate (from both junior & senior high school) that I'm FB friends with. We weren't close-close friends in school, and I don't think I've seen her since we graduated (41 years ago!!), but we knew each other fairly well, and I always liked her. She's always been a very quiet, introverted person, so she doesn't post much, but she does "like" & occasionally comment on my posts, particularly those involving the dog & great-nephew. :) (She's married and still living in the town where we grew up & went to school together -- three adult children and a couple of grandkids.) 

Anyway, she wrote to say how sorry she was about my loss and then said "forgive me for asking this" but she had always wondered what happened, and would I mind telling her my story? that she did not want to pry and it she understood if I didn't want to share. It was so nicely worded. I responded "thank you for asking" and said I did not mind telling my story at all -- the hard part is usually watching people's reactions to it (especially if they had no prior inkling that I've lost a child). And that sometimes it's (still) easier to write about it than to talk about it. 

I gave her the Coles/Cliffs Notes version of my pregnancy story & my fertility issues and our decision to leave treatment when I was 40. I assured her that dh & I had a good life together, even if it wasn't the one we had planned or expected, and thanked her for her kind words. She wrote back to say she was so sorry we'd been through so much sadness, and that she could tell Katie is always in my thoughts, and she hoped she hadn't upset me. I assured her she hadn't. 

I didn't tell her that her message totally made my day. :)  To have someone ask about my baby, to willingly listen/read what I had to say and offer their sincere sympathy, after all these years -- it's a rarity -- and a gift. 

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.  

• I've been a longtime follower of the writer Joyce Maynard, & I've written here about the huge impact that her 1973 memoir "Looking Back" (published when she was just 19!) had on me when I first read it age 12. She has a new novel in the works and mentioned on Facebook that she is trying to find a new title for it, since her publishers didn't like the one she had originally chosen. It's the story of a family living through and after divorce (likely based on Maynard's own experiences). Someone helpfully suggested in a comment, "In this post, you talk a lot about the mother. Perhaps your title needs to have MOTHER or MOM in it?" (Capitalization hers.) I read that and practically screamed out loud, "NO!!!" Just... no!!!  
• (Maynard does write a lot about mothers, and motherhood. About this novel, she says, "It’s about marriage, and divorce, and the children of that divorce, but at its core this novel is about family. And one family in particular, whose story I follow over the years from 1973 to 2009."  So... NO.) 
• I noticed on Twitter that the "Wall of Moms" (in several U.S. cities) has changed its name to "Wall of Many." Said a tweet from the Wall of Many Bay Area CA:  "Our name has changed, but our focus has not. #BlackLivesMatter always and in all ways. We are not only moms anyway - dads, childless adults, all genders care about Black lives and the right to protest. Let’s get back to work."  Bravo! 
• (I suspect many people will continue to refer to it as "Wall of Moms" -- but, points to them for acknowledging that it's not just moms who care and are out there protesting.) 
• On her Gateway Women blog, Jody Day recently interviewed Australian writer Donna Ward about her new book, "She I Dare Not Name:  A Spinster's Meditations on Life."  It's a fascinating conversation -- video & transcript available to watch &/or read here!  
• Unfortunately, Donna's book is not yet available outside of Australia. If you'd like to read it, be sure to leave a comment on Jody's post mentioning that, to show the publishers there's a demand for it in other parts of the world!  
• Love this quote from Jody (near the end): "...I think childlessness is actually another part and singleness is another part of the intersectionality that the Fourth Wave [of feminism] needs to embrace and as yet, isn’t ready to do so. And… it’s interesting how scary, unconsciously scary our lives must be that so many people don’t want to look at them."

• How is it possible that it's already July 25th??  The days drag and one blurs into the next and the next and the next, but somehow this year is rapidly slipping away... 
• I recently got on the scale for the first time in four months, since this pandemic began. My clothes from previous summers still fit, so I probably would have just cruised on blindly (lalalala...) -- but I have my annual physical coming up next month (unless it gets postponed again -- already re-booked from May...), and I didn't want any nasty surprises on the scale there (and of course, the dr's scale is always at least a few pounds heavier than the one I have at home...!). 
• I was somewhat pleasantly surprised that despite four months mostly in couch potato mode, I've only gained one pound. Now, my pre-COVID weight was nothing great -- the heaviest I've ever been actually, and I just upped that number by another pound -- but I figure things could be a whole lot worse, right?  #winning?
• I spent a couple of frustrating hours on Friday night -- including a longwinded live chat with my Internet/email service provider -- trying to change my email password. This was one of the things I'd been asked to do in order to restore access to my supermarket points, after my card was hacked in March, right at the beginning of this pandemic (which I mentioned here -- a huge hassle in itself).  Frustratingly, I wound up locking myself out of my online email account, as well the ISP website itself!! 
• After much wailing & gnashing of teeth, I managed to restore ISP access on both my Microsoft Edge & Google Chrome browsers on my laptop... and I was finally able to access my email online through the ISP email site on Chrome, via the Outlook program on my laptop, and on my cellphone -- but NOT through the online ISP email site on MS Edge on my laptop. I decided 3 out of 4 ain't bad and called it a night...!  :p  Technology can be a blessing, but it can also be a real hassle sometimes...!   
• I posted about this on Facebook & had a few people tell me to just get a Google Mail account. I HAVE a Google Mail account, but I mainly use it for Google Alerts & other junky email stuff. I like being able to download my email through Outlook, and I have had the same email address for almost 20 years... I'm kind of attached to it.  ;) 
• I continue to be agog over the photos in my social media feeds of my friends (and others) -- in Canada as well as in the U.S. -- socializing in groups (sometimes large groups), at bars and restaurants and backyard pool parties and barbecues, arms around each other, no masks in sight -- a high school class reunion, for one example. You would never guess there's still a dangerous pandemic raging around the world!  
• A friend (a loss mom we met through our support group) posted one of those "Never have I ever" memes on Facebook, where you scored one point for each thing on the list you haven't done. #7 on the list was "Birthed children." One of her (male) friends commented "#7 is a gimme."  Another guy commented, "If there's a #7 there should automatically be something that excludes women. Like peed in a urinal." I had to bite my cybertongue... not all of women have birthed children ("woman" does NOT automatically equal "mother")... not all of us CAN birth children, or even CHOOSE to birth children... and not all of us who have birthed children (I went through labour & delivery, I would take that point!) got to hear them cry or take them home. I don't know if it was male cluelessness specifically or society's cluelessness generally, but it rubbed me the wrong way. 
• It's not too early to start thinking about World Childless Week, which will be held Sept. 14-20 this year. :)  Organizer Stephanie Phillips is asking for submissions on the daily topics, which include Our Stories, Diversity Day, Ageing Without Children, Men Matter Too, Comments That Hurt, We Are Worthy, and Moving Forward. A submission form and further information can be found here. 

Does anyone else see the irony that a group of women demonstrating for democracy and great inclusion for people of colour, are doing so under a banner ("moms") that excludes a significant and growing segment of the female population (who are NOT moms and never will be, whether by choice or chance)?? 

So I was happy to see a tweet from writer Jill Filipovic at the top of my feed these morning,  expressing admiration . It's worth reading her entire thread, because she says it much better than I can.  Here's a screenshot of the first post in the thread: 

Among the points Filipovic makes: 

It’s premised on the idea that motherhood makes you more moral, more nurturing, more sensitive to suffering. And also that mothers are usually apolitical, and soft, and non-threatening (until they’re fierce mama bears). In other words, lots of sexist stereotypes to make this work.

It also suggests that women who aren’t mothers have less of a role in advocacy. It relies on the presumed respectability of (white) motherhood for legitimacy.

As you might imagine, she is getting a LOT of pushback in the comments. (Including from some other feminist writers -- who are mothers -- that I respect/admire, such as Jessica Valenti.) Some thoughtful points made, and a few childless & childfree people chiming in -- but still a lot of moms singing their own praises, some self-righteous indignation, and flat-out dismissal ("you're being too sensitive," "moms is just a label, everyone is welcome," etc.). 

My favourite response(s):  ;)  

Thoughts?