As a newly-fledged mother who still engages in student life, you are met with a form of respect, both irritating and sudden. But Karin Furenhed is still no stranger to putting the sparkling stockings on – if someone but dares to ask.
I know there is a tiny group of students who have children. That’s perhaps not how you imagine the general student, but I know you’re out there; usually, you comprise one in every other study-group or so. This one goes out mostly to you.
I didn’t really plan to have a baby now, still studying and all. It wasn’t all that planned, as it were. But now, I am a bit bothered by the fresh whiff of respect I get from so many people – subtle yet palpable.
It’s not just about the obvious things – opening the door and the like – no, it’s the tone: the kindness and steadiness… As if you were talking to a person just a bit saner, dependable than you.
You don’t know me, I think to myself. I could be a criminal and narcotic, or anything else. The thought that being a mother (which I am certainly not, god no) elevates you to new heights of being a good girl; up there, expectations of your trustworthiness defy any known boundaries completely.
The film A Diary of a Teenage Girl, presently in the theatres, tells the story of a forty-year-old mother of two who lives life to the fullest and sleeps with a younger man. The story’s unusual setup sticks out a mile.
Caroline Ringskog Ferrera-Noli, newly-fledged mother, gives her take on the film in her podcast En varg söker sin pod (A wolf looking for its pod): defining yourself based on other aspects than children is still taboo for a woman.
Fathers of the same age posts pictures of fish fingers on Instagram, accompanied by bitter comments such as “warm-up party” – but a woman writing anything to that effect does not happen, she thinks.
Personally, I am hunting babysitters in every nook and cranny I come across, to be able to continue going to parties, wearing my sparkly stockings, going to techno-clubs, or melting into the seat resting my eyes on the Kino-flick… And then come home again, hot-cheeked, to my lump of gold – it’s not that I don’t love her.
It’s just that I get pissed with those who think that I would have changed in any way. I can only say this: even if things around you topsy-turvy, you remain frighteningly similar to yourself.
That might be what I want to relate to all you parents out there: it’s all right for things to be that way. And to all you students without kids – please don’t forget to invite that person to the party, even if they decline it could be from lack of babysitter, not a lack of interest.
And to myself, I want to say this: when will you understand that it’s all right being a parent, that your own and others’ ideas about what being a parent should be like is the problem? You can be a parent however you choose. Even young.
Writer: Karin Furenhed.
Translation: Richard Helander
