Great Expectations

thoughts on the eve of an election

I’m sending this post early because I’d normally post on Tuesday but I know our minds will be on other things. Please vote!

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I think back to eight years ago.

I was in the midst of a ghostwriting project that required me to travel to Florida from California while I had two kids under the age of five. This author would often extend our stays by a day or two, blithely unaware that this would require me to reach out and finagle another day of childcare surrogacy for my children (I was still the primary parent).

This final time, they wanted us to stay another day but that would have meant being gone on election day. I’d already voted, that wasn’t the issue, the issue was I wanted to be at home with my girls to celebrate the first female president.

So I said I couldn’t stay and was flying home from Florida as the results were coming in on the small screens on the seats in front of us. Given where I was traveling from, I could not guarantee the political affiliation of those next to me as I watched in shock.

The plane landed after dark and I found myself staring out the window of my taxi. When I walked in the front door, both my girls were already asleep. I’m glad. Because I collapsed on the floor in tears. Even now, as I type, the emotion feels as strong as if it were yesterday. Despair. How could this have happened? How could HE have won?

Does no one care about women? Does our pain and suffering mean nothing?

As I thought about the three year birthday of this Substack, which would fall right around the election of either the first female president or the re-election of he-who-shall-not-be-named, I realized that this is still the heart of the matter.

Sadly it almost feels pointless to posit that question because we know what the answer is. No. Obviously lots of people care about women’s suffering. But it seems just as many consider it collateral damage. Unfortunate, but not worthy of changing the systems currently in place. 

a quote from my very first newsletter

When I started The Mother Lode in 2021, I was, like so many of us, a mother traumatized by the experience of the pandemic. And a specific kind of mother at that… one who had just crossed the finish line of early motherhood in the fall of 2019 when my youngest child enrolled in kindergarten and I felt like I FINALLY GOT MY LIFE BACK!

Except of course I didn’t. And when my children once again never left my side, I was angry enough to explore why I found this situation so untenable. 

Because motherhood as designed by America is a scam. 

We know this. I don’t even have to argue for it in this newsletter because I already have and so have

Amanda Montei

and

Sara Petersen

and

lyz

and so many others.

So pain was what brought me here, along with the desire to somehow find a way out of it. And I did. I escaped my marriage which, along with the confines of American motherhood, was slowly devouring my soul. So I am a poster child of possibility. I am proof that things can change. 

I speak of pain in this election because I will always associate the election of he-who-shall-not-be-named with a dismissal of women’s pain. When he was elected, I was saddened not by how much he would damage our country (though he did) but by how his election to the highest office in the world was a public admission that you can be a serial sexual assaulter, and people will not care. They will brush it aside as a cost of doing business. I cried on the floor of my living room because even though I knew this was true, I had hoped we were evolving. But how evolved can you be when a man brags that he can grab women by the pussy on tape and we still elect him? How evolved can you be when countless women come forth with their stories, and it isn’t that we didn’t believe them, it’s that we didn’t care?

This apathy was what broke me. Because these women came forward with bravery and shame in hopes that their stories would dissuade us. And we ignored them, retraumatizing them in the process. 

the sign I carried in the second women’s march

Two years later, we had a chance to set things right, to show our progress with Brett Kavanaugh and his showdown with Christine Blasey Ford. And yet again, apathy in the face of women’s suffering. 

This Substack and so many others on this platform exist because we want to believe that women do matter, that mothers matter, that injustice should be addressed, that when we band together, things can change. 

I hope that the fourth year of this newsletter ushers in a new era, with a woman at the helm, with an election that signals that our treatment matters and our voices will be heard. 

Nothing matters more than this moment. Use your voice. Cast your vote. Sitting with you in the waiting, in the hope, in the preparation. I know we are ready. I pray our country is as well.

Cindy

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Some updates on the newsletter upon entering its fourth year:

Subscription costs are rising to $7/month, $70 a year. I’m also switching things up and only allowing paying subscriber to comment on posts. This is due to the growth of this newsletter and to protect the space. My post Our Fair Play Discussion Signaled the End of My Marriage is still my most popular post, and while I am thrilled by its reach and resonance, that has meant some less than kind comments. While I am all for productive discourse, there is a line and thus I hope by limiting the comments to paying subscribers, it will weed out those who just want to antagonize or insult. 

Paying subscribers also get exclusive access to protected posts like The Divorce Diaries and my series Things I Wish I’d Known Before Going Through a Divorce.

Another feature for paying subscribers is the chat. I admit that I have not done enough to spread the word about this because I don’t like to inundate you with emails but I will likely send a chat focused newsletter in the future to show you what I hope this space can be. 

Thanks as always for being here, sharing my posts, engaging with the content, and supporting this work.