Eat, Pray, Love author Elizabeth Gilbert wrote a brilliant post on FB last week in answer to a question about whether she regretted not having children. I’ll quote the bulk of it here, though you really should see the original post for the accompanying photo of her and her cat and read the final paragraph about that.

HAVE YOU EVER REGRETTED NOT HAVING CHILDREN?

A dear soul on this Facebook page asked me this the other day, and I thought I’d make the answer public. The simple answer, blessedly, is: No.

The longer answer is that I have come to believe there are three sorts of women, when it comes to questions of maternity. There are women who are born to be mothers, women who are born to be aunties, and women who should not be allowed within ten feet of a child. It can be a tragic situation (either personally, for a family, or for the community at large) when a woman ends up in the wrong category, based on her true nature. Women who long for children but cannot have babies suffer enormously, as we know. But children who are born to inadequate or unprepared mothers also suffer enormously (and their mothers suffer, too—trapped in a responsibility that they can neither meet or enjoy).

Those of us who are natural-born aunties are luckier. We love children, we enjoy children, but we know in our deepest marrow that we are not supposed to have children of our own. And that is absolutely fine, for not every woman in history needs to be a mother. Now, listen—if you put a baby in front of me, rest assured: that baby is gonna get cuddled, spoiled and adored. But even as I’m loving on that beautiful infant, I know in my heart: This is not my destiny. It never was. And there is a curious rush of joy that I feel, knowing this to be true—for it is every bit as important in life to understand who you AREN’T, as to understand who you ARE. Me, I’m just not a mom. I create in other ways. Having reached a contented and productive middle age, I can say without a blink of hesitation that wouldn’t trade my choices with anyone’s.

This resonated so much with me. In my early 20s, I wouldn’t have minded becoming a mother but it wasn’t a priority in my life. However, becoming both a wife and a mother became all consuming desires after joining the church. My desperation to follow The Plan God Had For Me as a woman led me to marry the wrong person and spend years charting, popping pills, undergoing painful fertility treatments, and buying ovulation kits and pregnancy tests by the dozen. Miserable times getting poked and prodded and WHERE THE HELL IS THAT SECOND BLUE LINE?! When I think of the hours of self wrought insanity spending time on fertility message boards… Yeesh.

While a bone was tossed every now and then to the spinsters and childless sisters – we could look forward to a husband and kids in the afterlife – the overarching theme was that we were outsiders within the church.

The assumption married people will want and have children isn’t limited to the LDS; it’s societal. I used to ask newly married folks if they planned to have kids – an innocent question but now I recognize it to be presumptuous and often painful.  The LDS take the level of expectation to a new high (or low). It is God’s Will. You’re keeping a spirit child from gaining a body if you don’t and that makes you very, very selfish.

After my marriage ended, in my next relationship I had a surprise pregnancy. It ended in a miscarriage but I remember feeling so relieved just to know that I could conceive. Even though I no longer believed in The Plan, I hadn’t shaken the societal expectations. That pregnancy allowed me to let go of the nagging thought that I was flawed as a woman. Ugh. That makes me sick to read that last sentence. But it is how I felt and I know so many women feel this same pressure.

Motherhood and marriage can be great but they are not the only roads to travel and not superior to other paths. They’re simply different options and it’s time to let go of the pressure and assumptions.