“What will I be when I grow up, if I am not a mum?” my 5-year-old daughter recently asked. I felt compelled to give her an honest and considered response; she is my first-born daughter and I want her to know that she can be and achieve anything she sets her mind to.
Imagination is rife in our household. At the age of five my daughter is engrossed in role-playing. She and her sisters love playing all manner of games, but mums and dads is their favourite. I watch and smile as they act out traditional gender roles that would make Germaine Greer and Sheryl Sandberg’s heads spin. But they know no different. In their world, dad goes to work and mum stays home. While I try to explain that my freelance work is in fact “work”, they regard my computer and time away from them as something of an irritation.
I grew up in a traditional household that was typical of the 1960’s and 1970’s. I was one of five daughters. My dad, a lawyer, went off to work each day and my mum stayed at home to look after the kids. It was expected that women would be the primary child carers in her generation. She never worked. And I loved it.
I loved that I had so much time with my mum. I loved that she was home each afternoon I walked through the door from school, with a kiss and an ear, ready for me to decant the contents of my day.
A generation on and I am mirroring the experiences of my mother. In an age where women are encouraged to smash the glass ceiling and lean in at the table, I am knee-deep in the demands of pre-schoolers each day. The only thing I am smashing is mud pies and Lego towers. But while my superannuation fund may have plummeted, my personal fulfilment has soared.
We are told that the gender stereotypes introduced in childhood are reinforced throughout our lives and become self-fulfilling prophecies. So, am I reinforcing out-dated gender stereotypes by not working? What kind of message am I sending my daughters by being satisfied as a stay-at-home mum?
While my own mum settled into domestic life quickly after studying, she encouraged us to take on the world. Study, travel, soak up life’s experiences, get married, or, don’t get married, but most importantly, do what make you happy.
And I have done exactly this. I studied, worked and travelled before getting married and starting a family. Five years ago I took maternity leave at the peak of my career. I had one baby and quickly had another two. So now I am the mother to three beautiful daughters and I am acutely aware of the messages I send to them.
Raising three human beings is the most challenging thing I do. Like most mothers, I am constantly doing an internal emotional audit, assessing my own behaviour in my quest to set good examples to my children. And I think a lot about the perceptions they are forming about the role of women.
Whether my daughter becomes a mum, who works inside or outside the home, is irrelevant. She may not choose to have a family of her own and I will support her in whatever makes her happiest.
And so the answer to her question seems simple. It’s not important what she’ll be; it’s important who she’ll be. And so I answer her question accordingly.
“If you are not a mum, you’ll be a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter, a cousin and a friend. And you’ll be kind and loving in each of these roles.”
She responds with a warm smile, suggesting it’s not only a satisfactory outlook but also a happy one indeed.