Some of us have babies at some point in our lives. Others don’t. Nevertheless, sooner or later we are the same: women without children. That surprises many. It’s like we all enter a tunnel of parallel tubes around our 30th birthday. One tube is decked out with Princess Lillifee posters and wakeboards, the other with canteen trays and yoga mats.
When we reappear ten, 15 years later, we realize that we have been amazingly close all these years – and that the road above ground brings us together again. But then we often don’t really know what to do with each other. overtaking? honk? Pull over and say hello? Even in everyday life, where we meet in the office elevator or at the organic butcher counter, we live in parallel worlds. Even through the urban jungle, families and those without children cut different paths. I myself lived in Hamburg-Altona for five years without having any idea where the most popular playground in the district is – until my daughter became a regular there.
That’s why I’m irritated today when I walk to the DVD rental on Saturday evenings: What are all these people doing on the street, don’t they have to go to bed? Then it occurs to me again: They are grown up! They go out to eat, to the movies, to friends. You don’t even have to be home by 11pm. I owe the fact that I still know what human life looks like outside of bunk beds and sandpits to women like my friend Susanne. Susanne is 47, loves children but could not have her own. As a clever woman, she has understood that not only does one door close, but many others open. Years ago she quit her job, went on a month-long sailing trip with her husband and now writes film screenplays. “Sooner or later,” she says, “every woman is left to her own devices and has to ask herself what she does with herself and her life. It just happens a little later with mothers.” Because, of course, children are a great center of life – but only for a limited time. After just two or three years, islands emerge from the ocean of diaper pails and parsnips. Islands of time that want to be used sensibly – whether with extra commitment at work or the founding of a citizens’ initiative for the old oak trees in the city park. In no time these islets take on continental proportions. that want to be used sensibly – whether with extra commitment at work or the establishment of a citizens’ initiative for the old oak trees in the city park. In no time these islets take on continental proportions. that want to be used sensibly – whether with extra commitment at work or the establishment of a citizens’ initiative for the old oak trees in the city park. In no time these islets take on continental proportions.
At 13, the dear little ones have to follow Justin Bieber on Twitter around the clock, at 18, the university place exchanges. There is no time for too much live talk with mom. Good this way. Those who let go have their hands free. I think it would be nice if women didn’t rush down next to each other without a word after emerging from their tunnels. Instead, take the next exit together, sit down on a picnic bench and talk. ‘Cause none of us comes out the way we rushed in. Because moms should learn new orbits if they don’t want to mutate into clingy “helicopter parents.” Because childless people need to be connected to the world in order not to get bogged down in the “everything was better before” mode. And because we still have a nice stretch ahead of us where we need good friends. new – and old, which had disappeared in the other tunnel tube for a few years. I think they are very close to us.
