You can see it on their face. I went from being their friend, perhaps even their little pity project, to the enemy. All in seconds.
What happened?
The night before, my children and I were invited to hang out around their campfire. My children had been playing with theirs all day and were getting along like lifelong friends. I had conversations with several women in their group throughout the day and they had been filled with smiles and laughter toward my children and I.
The day had been cool, windy, and rain had been falling here and there. Everyone was in sweatshirts and jeans.
When we came over to their fire after our dinner and showers, we brought our supplies for making s’mores. I wasn’t really sure if I should stay for long. After all, sometimes people invite you over just to seem polite but they are actually insincere with their invitation.
But, I was greeted warmly, introduced to the moms and dads in the group, offered a glass of wine, my children were given glow sticks to play with and a chair was added around the fire for me to sit in. In a large screened canopy just a few feet from me, the children played together.
Hours passed easily as we talked about common interests. One of the ladies hugged me at one point and said that she hoped to see me at the campground the year after, during their annual reunion.
Finally, it was time to go to bed. I gathered one of my children in my arms. They had begged to be allowed to sleep “under the stars” with the other children (in the screened canopy on blankets, pillows and sleeping bags). The other was carried by one of the guys in the group while one of the ladies carried their shoes and coats for me.
We were invited over for breakfast the next morning. It had ended well…
So, what changed? I’m in the pool holding my younger daughter as she kicks her feet and laughs at the feeling of swimming. My older daughter plays with one of the children from the group. The women are acting nice to my children.
But you can see it. When I walk up to the pool. And they look at me. Or, rather, my stomach. I’m wearing a bikini.
And they know I’m a single mom.
Last night, they had commented about how brave I was to be a single mom and go camping alone with my children. I had shrugged my shoulders and said it was no big deal and changed the subject to the weather.
Sure, last night they were sympathetic to me. But today, in the sunlight on a warm day, I’m wearing a bikini at the pool. In front of their husbands. Who I’m not interested in. And who don’t even glance at me, they are interested in their children who are swimming in the water with them.
They are wearing one piece bathing suits with tank tops on top and tanning.
Is it me with the problem? Should I not be wearing a bikini? I obviously can’t be tanning. I don’t have a man with me who can be in the pool to play with my kids. So, I have to get in the water because my kids want to go swimming. Or, should my children not go swimming because I’m a single mom?
I take a deep breathe because I can see their faces and I start to feel like I’m being judged. But for what?
They are beautiful women. Not unkempt or sloppy looking. They have different figures than I do, but that’s why no two ladies can buy the same jeans, or the same bras. We are all built differently.
We are all beautiful.
What would look amazing on one woman would look terrible on another and vice versa. The best part about individual beauty is embracing who we are and not taking heed of how someone else looks in comparison.
I’ve been thinking about this event since it happened. There must be some sort of dividing line between women that I’m unaware of. Is it “Bikini versus one piece”, “Single Mom versus Married Mom”… Or, the toughest one to express and address, “Skinny versus Womanly Curves”? Do I need to call myself skinny to make others feel better about this? I’m not anorexic, I just like to exercise. I hate the word skinny, I’ve been hearing it since I hit the age when girls go from play mates to judging one another. And yes, I do think this might have played into what happened at the pool. So why not question it?
Do we really presume that a single mom is interested in married men? Does it even matter whether that single mom is interested in a married man, whether she is judged based on the reaction of the married man? Or the possibility of a reaction from the married men?
I’d like to think that with the number of divorces going up and even of mothers who just never marry the father of their children, that we women are united in our mutual endeavors to raise our children right. But sometimes, it takes a trip to the pool to remind you that it’s just not true.
It takes talking about it with others, and no matter how you word it, no matter how nice and nonjudgmental you can possibly be, reactions are given and you see what the real problem is. We are all wrestling with our own insecurities.
Welcome to the Mommy Wars.
