“My sister quickly made the decision not to have children. She studied pedagogy, just like both my parents, and read in all those courses how many ways things can go wrong, apparently even with parents who had also read those courses. She feared that she would make her children feel unwanted. For me, childlessness was more the result of a long process of not doing anything, not daring and making other life choices, which were apparently more important to me. It’s not that I’ve been thinking for twenty years that I don’t want to be a mother. But you also have to develop a vision for a life outside the box with children, and that takes time. There is doubt and also sadness about the loss. But in the end that choice will follow.”
The sick and battered body
A heavy zona and serious diabetes, which requires injections into her own body. Alcohol addiction and eventually cancer in her mother. It was already noticeable in the diary fragments of the young Lize Spit that the body has to endure something.
“In Autobiography of my body I have included a selection of my childhood diaries, in particular all sentences that have to do with my mother, my body, death or farewell in general,” she says. “I noticed that as a child I was very focused on pain, doctor visits, illnesses of teachers or classmates. I was jealous when other people were sick or had to go to the hospital because that made them special, so to speak. I also describe in the book that there was a period when I expanded my wounds or tried to bruise my bruised wrist even more in order to go to the doctor. And I had a weak constitution from an early age, because when I was four I had a severe zona. Having once been on the brink of losing me, my parents were more concerned about my health than that of my brother and sisters. So highlighting my body as a diseased thing was my way of getting attention, pity and love.”
The Art of Not Parenting: A Cheeky Dive into Choice and Childhood Trauma
So here we are, diving headfirst into the treacherous waters of choice and consequence — or, as I like to call it, the ‘pick-your-own-adventure’ of existential angst! Our first character, let’s call her Sister Spit (you didn’t think I was going to call her by her first name, did you?), has opted out of motherhood quicker than a kid at a broccoli buffet. And really, who can blame her? After all, she’s got textbooks stacked higher than my ego filled with a hundred different ways parenthood could go wrong — and it appears her fabulous family lineage didn’t quite make parenting look like an Olympic sport of success.
It’s not just a negative Yelp review of parenting she’s reading; it’s a veritable horror show! Now, while some might do a joyous dance at the prospect of exploring life without children (think wild parties, sleeping in, and the kind of weekend plans that don’t involve a pint of stinky baby formula), our dear Sister Spit seems to have stepped back into a realm of self-doubt that could drown an Olympic swimming team. It’s like ordering a salad at a pizza restaurant and then staring at the menu wondering where it all went wrong.
The Sick and Battered Body
Now we get a close-up of her entries, reflecting on a childhood awash in medical drama — the plot twists more engaging than your average soap opera! I mean, there are more ailments on display than at a doctor’s convention. You’ve got heavy zona, serious diabetes, and a mother who’s battling alcohol addiction and cancer. Just reading about her life feels like I’m originally trained to find meaning in the daily grind of a barista but stumbled into a medical case study instead!
As Lize Spit herself notes, much of her writing delves into the complex relationship between her, her ailing mother, and her rather adoring body — which, spoiler alert, doesn’t seem to be winning any beauty contests. One might think that as a kid, she’d be balancing on the merry-go-round of childhood bliss, but it appears instead she was crafting a journal titled “Lessons from the Sick.” I can’t decide if that’s tragic or just a brilliant commentary on the search for attention that we all did at some stage, although most of us didn’t need to wrestle with serious health issues to make our parents’ heads turn.
“Being sick looks special,” she confesses, which oddly connects to the age-old question: do we sometimes glorify suffering? Because I can’t help but think there’s an ounce of that in our misguided belief that special needs equals special love — even if it means twisting a few more bruises for effect.
It’s ferociously candid, tackling the sick and battered body while somehow seeking sympathy, love, and maybe, just maybe, a transitional pass into a world where joy isn’t washing and wiping snotty noses. And after all, who doesn’t want to be the odd one out — the celebrated “sick kid,” after all, isn’t on that path leading to motherhood?
So after all this rumination, we find ourselves at a pivotal moment: Sister Spit’s choice not to have children isn’t just an absence in her life; it’s a defiant strike against the ‘motherhood mandate’. In many ways, it’s a critique that oscillates between the need to give life and the haunting memories that come dressed in white coats and syringes. We’re left contemplating whether she merely took the high road of self-awareness or cheekily abandoned the ride because it seemed a right royal mess.
In concluding this whimsical dive into the profound yet often shadowy pool of choice and consequence, let us tip our hats to those like Sister Spit who choose their own paths with both pain and some humor. After all, whether with or without children, it seems we could all use a little observation, a lot of sharp wit, and a splash of introspection to survive the mad circus of this world.
“My sister made a definitive choice against motherhood, influenced by her background in pedagogy, just like our parents. During her studies, she learned about the myriad of potential pitfalls in parenting, even among those who had pursued similar educational paths. Concerned about her ability to ensure her future children’s emotional well-being, she feared inadvertently making them feel unwanted. In contrast, my own decision to not have children stemmed from a gradual unfolding of my life choices—a series of hesitations and alternative priorities that ultimately took precedence. It’s not as if I spent two decades outright rejecting the idea of becoming a mother. However, contemplating a fulfilling existence without children requires time and vision. This journey involves grappling with doubts and the inevitable sadness of what might have been. Yet, in the end, this complex choice becomes clear.”
The sick and battered body
My mother grappled with serious health issues, including a painful case of shingles and advanced diabetes, which necessitated regular self-injections. On top of that, she battled alcohol addiction, ultimately succumbing to cancer. These struggles echoed through my childhood reflections, evident in the diary entries of the young Lize Spit, revealing how deeply the body suffers.
“In Autobiography of my body, I have curated a poignant selection of my childhood diaries, focusing particularly on the themes of my mother, my body, illness, and the concept of mortality,” she reflects. “Through my childhood lens, I noticed a preoccupation with pain, frequent doctor visits, and illness, both my own and that of others. There were moments of envy when classmates got sick or were hospitalized, as it somehow conferred a sense of specialness on them. I candidly express in the book how, at one point, I attempted to exacerbate my wounds or even intentionally bruise my already injured wrist to warrant a doctor’s visit. My early encounters with health issues, including a severe case of shingles at age four, marked me with a fragile constitution. Engulfed in concern for my well-being, my parents, understandably so, were particularly focused on my health, often more than that of my siblings. Consequently, portraying my body as afflicted became a desperate means of eliciting attention, sympathy, and perhaps even love.”
How do you believe your experiences with health issues have influenced your understanding of nurturing and care in relation to parenthood?
**Interview with Lize Spit: The Choice of Childlessness and the Body’s Story**
**Interviewer:** Lize, thank you for joining us today. Your journey, as detailed in your book *Autobiography of My Body*, reveals profound insights into your sister’s decision not to have children, as well as your own path. Can you tell us more about what kind of impact your upbringing had on both of your choices regarding motherhood?
**Lize Spit:** Thank you for having me! My sister’s decision was quite sudden and rooted in her studies in pedagogy. She learned about the complexities and potential pitfalls of parenting, which made her question whether she could provide a nurturing environment for children. She fears making them feel unwanted, which is a real concern based on her academic background. For me, though, it was more of a gradual realization. I didn’t start with a firm stance against motherhood; it was more the result of life decisions that kept evolving and other priorities that took precedence.
**Interviewer:** You describe a childhood marked by health issues and a focus on the body as something that endured much. How do you think these experiences shaped your perception of motherhood?
**Lize Spit:** Growing up, my body was always a topic of concern—serious illnesses, doctor visits, and the pressure of being the ‘sick child’ begged for attention. I often thought that being unwell made me ‘special’ in some way, which was confusing. I believe this focus on bodily suffering made me question not only my health but also the kind of nurturing environment I would provide to a child. I grappled with feelings of inadequacy regarding whether I could be the kind of mother who wouldn’t repeat the cycles of pain and fear that I experienced.
**Interviewer:** In your book, you mention jealousy towards those who were sick—was there a sense of longing for the care that comes with illness?
**Lize Spit:** Absolutely. Being sick seemed to turn people’s attention toward me, and somehow that felt comforting. I sought love and pity through my wounds, which was a misguided way of getting affirmation. It made me wonder if, by choosing not to have children, I’m also stepping away from that cycle of seeking validation in pain, both for myself and for potential children.
**Interviewer:** This choice not to become a parent appears to be entwined with a critique of traditional expectations. Can you elaborate on that?
**Lize Spit:** Yes, I think it’s quite defiant in a way. Society often holds this firm expectation towards motherhood—a notion that many of us should aspire to. By examining my journey, I’ve come to understand my choice as a rejection of that mandate. It’s not merely about saying, “I don’t want kids,” but more about recognizing the complexities of bringing a new life into a world where one may not have the ability to nurture as they desire. My sister and I are both navigating our identities in relation to these expectations.
**Interviewer:** Your story speaks to the larger conversation around parenting and personal choice. How do you hope your book resonates with others, especially those grappling with similar decisions?
**Lize Spit:** I hope it opens a dialogue around the multifaceted nature of choice, especially concerning motherhood. For some, the road is clear and certain, but for others, it’s shrouded in doubts and reflections. I want people to feel seen, regardless of the choices they make—whether to become parents or to opt out. Ultimately, it’s about self-awareness and recognizing that life is valid no matter which path you choose.
**Interviewer:** Thank you, Lize, for such an insightful discussion. Your experiences highlight the complexity of choice in the face of societal norms.
**Lize Spit:** Thank you! I appreciate the opportunity to share my story.
