I remember when I was not tuned in to everyone around me and their needs. Even when my son was 3 weeks old–I was not yet tuned in. My body led the way. My breasts were telepathically connected to him and his needs. I remember the horror when I had left him (with my mother) for 45 minutes to go to get food at the supermarket. My first outing since I had given birth. I forgot, momentarily, that I was a mother! My leaking breasts reminded me. The pervasive guilt I felt for forgetting my son for a moment made it less likely that it would ever happen again. I was being trained (by hormones? by guilt? by nature? by nurture?) to have an inclusive mind. This being tuned in to my kids (and others) dominated the next 20 years of my life. The superhuman effort involved in wrenching my attention away from them was formidable. But I needed it. I needed to be a person, not only a mother. And it felt so unfair that it seemed so easy for their father. And my father. And most fathers. And so damn hard for mothers.
Divided Heart Show, motherstuff