My answers to your most frequent questions
Kink, BDSM, and feminism; fertility treatments; single motherhood by choice; more tips on neurodivergent time management, and more.
I host a monthly-ish subscriber chat, and this month’s go so many really interesting questions. A lot of these queries required more thought than a few sentences of follow-up would allow, but didn’t fit neatly into their own post. So I’m tackling them here. Feel free to post follow-ups in the comments!
In response to your planning post, I wonder how you keep track of different kinds of responsibilities - i.e. do you have separate pages for writing tasks, kids activities, personal goals and plans, activism, etc? Or do you find it easier to keep it all together?
Here’s the original post, if you missed it.
I’ve actually done both!
I used to make monthly goal lists, broken down by category—family, finances, work, etc. But over time, I found that the categories collapsed into each other. Work goals were often financial goals, for example. And it just didn’t make sense to divide things up. It didn’t help me accomplish work any faster.
For my weekly and daily to-do lists, it doesn’t make any sense to break things down into categories like that, so I’ve never done it. I recommend instead dividing things into location. This way you can cluster emails/computer tasks together, errands together, etc., helping you save time.
I'd like to know your opinion on Fertility treatments and the societal subtext that a woman is never fully a woman until she's had children. It's very painful to see my forty something friends going through extreme, sometimes not evidence based, treatments to try to have children. I know that I come from a privileged perspective since I do have children but sometimes I get the feeling that they're not doing this for themselves but for the expectations of everyone around them.
No one has the right to tell someone else what to do with their bodies. This is a bodily autonomy issue, and there is no place for judgment when it comes to fertility treatments.
An analogy from abortion: Abortion should be a right, without apology. At the same time, abortion clinics can be abusive. They may treat women like chattel, and fail to provide adequate support, especially to women in traumatic situations. This is unacceptable. The solution is better abortion care, not an end to abortion.
The same is true of fertility treatments. Fertility clinics can absolutely be unbelievably abusive. I know, because I’ve sat with friends in fertility clinics and been shocked at how patronizing the clinicians can be, and how little actual information they provide. Fertility treatments demand that women bear even more of the burden of childrearing, and practically turn their bodies inside out trying to get pregnant. We need to acknowledge this, and demand better care—and that men step up to shoulder more of the burden, to whatever extent they can.
But the idea that women seeking fertility treatments are deluded, especially from a parent, is deeply misogynistic. Infertility is devastating. The drive to have children is perhaps the core human instinct. I agree that there is pressure to have children, but I do not think the notion of a woman as incomplete without children is what drives fertility treatment. Instead, I think women have a strong desire to have children, think carefully about those choices, and are often willing to do whatever it takes. Fertility clinics capitalize on this reality, often extracting hundreds of thousands of dollars from desperate families.
I find myself in the position of desperately wanting a child but not finding any men I’m willing to have a child with. What are your thoughts on single motherhood by choice? I’m heavily leaning towards this route because I am afraid that I will let myself get trapped in an inequitable and abusive relationship about of my desire to have a kid, but I also see a ton of potential pitfalls. I’d really appreciate anything you have to say about the topic!
My amazing sister-in-law is a single mother by choice. There are some challenges, to be sure, especially since she has a demanding career and needs lots of childcare. But I can tell you that her life is infinitely better than a mother in a bad or mediocre marriage. She has control over her life, can live as she sees fits, and is never stuck wasting time with an asshole man baby.
I have never seen a single mother by choice regret her decision to have kids without a partner, but many women have told me they absolutely regret having children with a partner.
I think you should go for it. Just make sure you pursue motherhood in a way that feels right for you. I’d start with self insemination from a sperm bank, and only use a fertility specialist if you really need one.
Some things to think about on your journey include:
What sort of childcare can you afford? Can you lean on your community. Married mothers often can’t rely on their partners for care, so you’re not alone in needing childcare.
Whom will you rely on for parenting feedback? One of the main benefits of having a coparent—and this is true only if they are a good parent—is that someone you trust can balance you, check your worst influences, and step in when you’re overwhelmed.
How will you build a community for your child?
Can you afford this?
What will you do if a man enters your life later? What criteria will you establish to screen men and protect your child?
Please also consider joining Single Mothers by Choice. They’re a great organization, with lots of local support groups. Readers, please consider weighing in with additional insight.
Smaller fish but still baffling to me, perhaps others could weigh in: my “coparent” is late to pick up and drop off my kids almost every time. What are some things I could say? So fucking infuriating.
This is a way for him to continue to steal your time. It’s classic passive-aggression.
People show up on time for things they value, and for people whom they respect. I bet your ex is not late for job interviews.
He’d probably tell you he has ADHD, or he’s overwhelmed, or his schedule is packed or whatever. Which can also be true. But the takeaway is still the same: He values other things over showing up on time for you and your kids.
You’ve written before about your nanny. Can you tell me more about her, and offer some advice for hiring good childcare?
I actually started writing a post about this a long time ago, but I worried people wouldn’t be interested. I’ve seen a lot of writers offer advice about hiring a good nanny lately, and I’ve been shocked to see every one of these posts fail to answer the most important question for hiring a nanny: What are you offering this person to make the job worth their while?
Here’s what I started to write about having a nanny a while ago:
I’ve had a nannies since my first grader was born. That sentence is loaded with stigma, because we believe women shouldn’t work, and that women who use childcare to enable them to work are somehow spoiled. That’s misogyny, pure and simple, and you won’t catch me defending my choice to use childcare here or anywhere else.
In nearly seven years of nanny employment, I’ve had several exceptional nannies, and have never had a bad experience. I’ve also found that most advice on hiring a nanny completely misses the most important part of hiring a nanny:
When you hire a nanny, you are offering them a job and a relationship. To attract a good nanny, you have to assess what you are offering, and how to make it appealing. No relationship can be one-sided, and if you hope to pay as little and give as little as possible while getting as much as you can, your goal is to exploit the person you are entrusting your child to.
Hiring a nanny is a privilege. You are choosing to become someone else’s source of income, and asking them to do the most important work in the world—caring for your precious child.
For some reason, though, people think nannies should want to do this work, this most important of all work, out of the goodness of their hearts. This is an exploitative, abusive impulse, borne of the worst biases of capitalist patriarchy.
A fair employer-employee relationship is one in which each party gets something of value out of the relationship, and the value each party extracts is roughly similar.
So ask yourself: What are you bringing to the table?
To recruit the best possible nanny, you need to pay the highest rate you can afford—not the rate you made as a college nanny 20 years ago, not the rate your friend who’s always mad at her nanny pays, but the highest you can reasonably afford within the constraints of your local nanny market. Almost everywhere, minimum is going to be $20 an hour, and in many places, it’s going to be closer to $30. Nannies need and deserve time off, including paid time off, and a healthy working environment where communication is direct, clear, specific, and respectful. Indirect communication is always passive aggressive and always worsens the relationship.
As far as my own nanny, she is a goddamn saint. She’s been with us for 2 years, and has seen us through so much. She’s a feminist, an activist, and a glorious human, but she also deserves her privacy so I try not to share any more about her than that we love her and she works for us.
We found her through mutual friends, though I’ve found most of my other nannies through Care.com, or through mommy groups.
I write long job postings, detailing exactly what I need. I include a few questions to pre-screen the nanny before a phone/in-person interview. But most critically of all: I do what all respectful employers do, and list the pay range and benefits in the job listing. This shows nannies I am going to treat them with respect, and value their work. I think it’s the reason I’ve never had a bad nanny.
Could you write about a kink and feminism and grappling with liking some aspects of kink while being staunchly feminist? It’s a struggle sometimes.
I believe that what happens in anyone else’s bedroom is not my business, and that it is not my right to have an opinion on it, or to tell people what they can and can’t do sexually. It bothers me that some feminists have taken it upon themselves to tell women what they can and cannot do sexually, or to insist that women who are into kink (and especially women who are into submission) are somehow less feminist.
Feminism should not be the fun police.
Feminists should not be in the business of telling women how they must live to be worthy of feminism, and we certainly should not be constraining women’s life choices.
The fact that you feel tension between your feminist values and your interest in kink is a product of patriarchy, not feminism. Patriarchy encourages women to blame themselves for everything, to feel guilty over having fun, and to constantly assess whether they are worthy of equality.
True kink is consensual, and fosters ongoing communication and honesty. In the discussion thread on this question, Kamania mentioned the concept of “want, willing, won’t” in kink culture. That’s a model for communication and relationships that extends outside of the bedroom, and beyond kink, and which can potentially even reduce abuse.
At the same time, of course our sexual interests are influenced by the wider culture. I reject the extremist choice-based feminism that suggests we should not acknowledge this fact. I think contemplating why we like what we like can be interesting, yielding valuable information about our histories, our psyche, about the ways the world influences at all.
But that’s it. Kink is not a disease any more than vanilla sex is. It’s not something you need to treat or change. It just is.
Two things can be true:
Many women are interested in the submissive role (and many men are interested in the dominant role) because of patriarchal conditioning.
There is nothing wrong with consensually entering these roles.
Kink can be transformative. It can be a healthy outlet for harmful gender role conditioning. It can also just be fun. You don’t owe anyone a certain type of sex, nor an explanation for your sexuality.
Go forth and have fun.
I’m a solo Mum by choice, and I'm more than happy to share my experience with others. A bit of background though, for context. I’m one of 6 (5 girls) and along with my twin sister, the youngest. My parents had my twin and I through IVF later in life, as my Dad is husband no.2. This was in the 80’s when it was very new, so we heard a lot about the process growing up.
My siblings have all been prolific breeders, so I never really felt any pressure to have kids. I knew I wanted them, but I also knew I was gay and I was terrified I would miss out.
I also witnessed each of my older sisters run the gamut of absolute trash men, each worse than the last. They all had children with these abusive a/holes, but as a child I just watched it play out. They were repeating the trauma they had witnessed with their own father, who abused my Mum in every way possible.
I didn’t come out until I was almost 30, and it didn’t occur to me I could go it alone until a friend began the process a few years later. I was shocked to find a whole community of solo Mums online. These women have been such a support, before, during, and after the process. They all have different stories and situations, but I’m yet to hear of any that have any regrets about doing it solo. Personally, I have not once regretted my decision. It can certainly be tough, and sometimes I think I’m doing a terrible job as a Mum, but when I talk to my married friends we all have the same struggles! The difference is they often have to deal with a man child, or argue about decisions I get to make myself. Plus, my little guy is the best and I love him more than life.
The most important advice I can give to anyone else looking to start the journey is this:
- ensure you’re financially secure. Don’t assume you’ll be back at work right away (or even back to full time hours) because I thought I would be fine and I had to take longer leave than I intended due to PPD exacerbated by breastfeeding issues and lack of sleep 🫠
- make sure you have reliable support. Family or friends who can be called on for help, whether it’s an hour with the baby, folding the laundry, bringing groceries, whatever you may need especially in the first few weeks. Oh and also if you have a caesarean, it can take 6-8 weeks to heal and be pain free. You’ll also need non-judgemental people to talk to or ask advice of.
- make sure your job is secure if you’re wanting to go back to it. If you can, discuss leave options with your employer/HR and have an “in case of” plan if you need more time. If you can’t talk to them, make sure you carefully read your contract or parental leave policy.
- be ready for the intrusive questions and potential judgemental idiots. I didn’t encounter too many, but I had my share of “who’s the father?” And “he needs a male role model in his life” 🙄 at least it gave me an opportunity to work on my one liners.
Good luck to anyone going down this path. You won’t regret it.
I left my husband when my child was two years old and it Is infinitely easier doing it alone than it is doing it with a poor partner. I am in an industry that is difficult on marriages/partnerships (international transfers every few years) so many women, once they hit their mid-30s and want children, face difficult choices related to their partnerships, motherhood, and their jobs. I have at least five friends that have chosen to go it alone, and none of them regrets it. Honestly, I wish I had communities like this before I married poorly, so that I could have had the bravery to go it alone. It is not all roses - I am solely financially responsible for my child and that makes me a bit conservative with professional choices. Parenting in the young years can feel relentless when there is no one to co-parent so that you can get time for yourself and self-care. It can be difficult if you do not have a network you can rely on to help out or to exchange with, because it can feel difficult to justify paying someone to do things you feel you should/could do on your own. But if you can afford it, and can afford good care when you need it, then I think it is brilliant. I would trade the stresses of single parenthood for the stresses of partnership with a poor partner any day.