We are triple beings, the seasons of life change like the earth changing garments. But for me, my rhythm is a little different. I have PCOS and opted out of finishing out my fertility cycle because chances are I can’t conceive anyway. My menstrual cycle was so bad that I had to stay home from work on the first days of my period and I became a danger to myself because of my raging hormones. I still have my uterus but my hormone treatment chemically ended my period. So my body doesn’t follow the moon any more. I went from maiden to crone. And although I adore being a young crone, I think it has wonderful advantages, I still wonder what that full moon phase, the phase of motherhood, is like.
I don’t know many other people who can relate to this, but I think about this every day. Most women my age who are childless don’t want kids. Everyone should do what is best for them.
But childfree is not the life I’ve chosen. I don’t want to be childfree. I want to be a mom. I want to have a family. And the fact that seems out of reach for me makes me sad. My years to safely have a child grow shorter and I mourn for the life I’ll never have as a mother.
I’m quickly approaching 40, so even meeting someone and falling in love and starting a family in your 40s is rare. The newly divorced don’t want kids and the single men who swore they would stay bachelors want younger women after their first brush with their mortality in their 40s. They still get the opportunities to be fathers. It doesn’t feel fair, but that’s the way things are.
So the prospect of becoming a mother doesn’t look good foe me … but even still, I want to believe in love. I want to also believe that if I end up an old maid, life will be good.
But there is something so fascinating to me about raising a child and growing as a family. I feel like I’m really missing out on something and worst of all with no one looking for serious relationships these days, I feel SOL. I’m tired of the rudeness and the games and the “bros before hos” attitude. I’ve always known there was a meanness about males in my generation since I was cursed by the boys in school telling me I’ll end up just as I am now — alone. I still hear their chants and it feels like a curse that came true. But then again, the compassionate side of me reminds myself that the Divine Masculine is in crisis and that is not my fault. Just bad timing.
Maybe one day I’ll meet someone who will want to adopt with me, but being a single mother isn’t something I want to try. There are many wonderful, strong single mothers out there but that doesn’t feel right for me. I need backup when I’m battling depression, like now, when we move into fall, a season that reminds me that death is everywhere and I spend a lot of time burying the corpses of dead dreams so they won’t hold me back when I get into my creative season, winter. I don’t have my cycle any more but I know my womb is dark and dead like winter.
I don’t feel like I should have to explain myself or ask people to forgive me for how I feel about my own life. The fact of the matter is, I will most likely never be a mother. I’ve been mourning this fact for 4 years subconsciously but now with 40 just a little over 2 years away, I feel like I royally fucked up somewhere to be childless and hopelessly single. That’s just not what I wanted for myself.
Most goddesses are fertility goddesses and although I love goddess lore, I can’t relate to the mother archetype because I have never had the opportunity to experience that role.
I think I miscarried once in Japan. But if it was that, it was so early that it was just a very strange period. I made up a story about my lost, half Japanese daughter. I named her Hanami 花見 (cherry blossom viewing. I called her Hana 花 flower for short) and asked her to come back. But she never did.
Once I thought my ex fiancé got me pregnant. He was so excited but I wasn’t ready. It was a false alarm in the end, but now I wish it wasn’t. The same ex and I talked about adopting a little girl too. We weren’t picky. We were open to whoever the universe sent us. We called our future daughter “beanpod” as a nickname as we called to her to come to us . We were preparing to start the search. But then our solid relationship ended abruptly and I’ve been on my own since then.
So of course I’m mourning because I have to move on from this critical disappointment. I’m getting too old to believe in childhood dreams of being the mom I wished I’d had … of building a supportive and loving nest for a family, something I feel I did not have and I want to experience that so badly.
so if my feelings are up and down between now and winter (which is cozy in a pleasant way), it’s this time of year.
But on the other hand I’ve moved into the crone phase so early … I love being a young crone as well. I rap under the name Yung Krone. I feel the wisdom that comes with releasing your cycle. I feel the calmness that comes with only knowing dark moon. I can see in the dark now and I can guide those who don’t have night vision. My womb is dark. Nothing can grow there. So death feels closer to me now. I feel that this is because I am meant to help those who are preparing to cross over and those who have crossed over but are lost or confused about finding their way. Many mentors and psychics have told me that my work as a crone is with the dead. And I have a knack for it although I dislike it. I feel called to perhaps become a grief counselor or a death dula. I’m only 2 years into my crone stage so I still have much to learn about the crone’s relationship with death. But I will grow into the roll. For now I have to grieve the sons and daughters I’ll never have.
So on this second day of fall, I mourn the summer sun and all the things I could have done.