Damn it, I like pie.

"A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie." -- Tenneva Jordan

I saw this quote on a mother message board one day, and I still fume when I think of it. Nothing against Tenneva Jordan, but this particular brand of motherhood rhetoric really angers, frightens, saddens, and worries me for the future possibility of gender equality. Lest you think I’m attempting to part the Red Sea when I really just need to step over a puddle (a writing professor made this comment on my freshman comp essay once, and I’ve never forgotten it), just hear me out.

Certainly, being a mother is about sacrifice. (Clarification: Being a parent is about sacrifice.) But this quote is not about self-sacrifice; it is about self-denial. Why can’t this mother gracefully and lovingly offer her slice of pie to another person without denying that she, too, likes pie? Why must she lie about her taste for pie? Why can she not say, “I love pie, but I would like for you to have it”? Wouldn’t that set a better (i.e. more gracious, honest, and altogether healthier) example of love and self-sacrifice and generosity? And does this quote not imply that if she did say she liked pie, that she would then not offer it to someone else? That stating your preference is somehow selfish?

And if this same woman who denies herself the right to have a preference complains that no one recognizes all of the sacrifices she makes for them, I would have trouble being sympathetic. Of course they don’t recognize that you are making a sacrifice! You’re telling them that you’re not! It’s no sacrifice to give someone something you don’t like anyway—to keep it would be selfish. But it is not selfish to let someone know that while you do enjoy something, you are choosing to give them the enjoyment instead. Self-denial just sets up unhealthy patterns, particularly for young girls who may imitate them, but also for young boys who are learning how to treat women. If children don’t understand that a woman has as much of a right to her opinions, preferences, and choices as a man does, or that she should not voice them if it might infringe on someone else’s opinion, perhaps we are simply perpetuating gender stereotypes that lead to professional inequality and put stress on our personal relationships.

I’m absolutely not saying that you should make your children feel guilty that you are sacrificing your time or tastes for theirs. Just don’t lose yourself in the life-changing process of having a child. It is too easy to tell ourselves that we’re not buying new clothes because we never really liked shopping, or that we didn’t really want to have coffee with our friends anyway, or that the Girls’ Night Out to the bar didn’t sound like that much fun. We tell ourselves these lies in order to rationalize away our sadness or frustration at feeling out of control of the lives that were once ours alone. We’ve been told about the glow of motherhood, taught that if you don’t enjoy every minute of your time with your children that you’re doing something wrong, or worse, that something is inherently wrong with you. Women (and some men) say horribly detrimental things like, “My life meant nothing before I had children.” Yes, my child changed my life, but my life has always had meaning and purpose. So did yours. And yours. Your priorities have changed. Your value as a human being has not.

So would I like to sleep in on Saturday mornings, or go out after 7pm without having to hire a babysitter? Sure! And there’s nothing wrong with that. But these are sacrifices my husband and I make for the health and wellbeing of this tiny person whom we love more than anything in the world. And if a day comes when there’s only one slice of pie between the two of us, I will gladly offer it to my son so that he’s secure in the knowledge that I will always be there to take care of him. And I hope I will have raised him in such a way that he’ll look up at me and say, “You know what, Momma? Let’s share.”