Originally published on Everyday Feminism.
The first time I met my daughter’s fourth grade teacher I said, “Hi, I am Atlantis’ mum.”
She said, “You are Atlantis’ mum! I thought you were a high school student!”
I laughed unnecessarily loud and sat down. What was I going to do? Tell her no? I’d rather her think I gave birth at eight. Makes for an interesting parent-teacher conference.
I have heard all sorts of things: “You are a mother!” “How old are you!” “You look like a teenager!” “What, did you have her when you were ten?!” “I thought you two were sisters!” “I thought you were her babysitter.”
Yes, I am young mother. I am thirty, and Atlantis is eleven. Which means I gave birth at 19.
In my early twenties, I felt like I had to guide people through the shock of finding out I was such a young mother. I felt an obligation to explain when I gave birth, where her father was, how long I had been a parent, how long I was in labour, and how long I breastfed. I had to make sure they were okay with it. I had to prove myself as a mother.
I finally realized it wasn’t my responsibility to help people when they learned the world didn’t look quite as they imagined. I was at a company party and I was talking to a doc filmmaker. I said something like, “Oh, my daughter loves…” and a woman I wasn’t even talking to interjected, “You are a mother! How old are you?!”
Top Comments
I became a dad at 18. My cousin gave me the best advice. He said, "Mate, when I'm at home changing nappies, you'll be out at the pub drinking with your kid!"
That was 25 years ago and my son and I catch up regularly for a beer and to talk about life.
There is 21 years between my oldest and me, some people who do not know us, wonder at our relationship as they think we are siblings. He is 34 and I am 55. My three living children are about 2 years apart so was told once must have my hands full babysitting so many children and why take them shopping. Yet at 19 was a governess looking after 3 children 2, 5 and 7 was told my children were cute.