In the myriad of parenting discussions, whether on Facebook groups, forums, or email threads, there’s a significant issue that persists. It’s not the usual queries about pediatricians, alarmist articles on vaccines, or the mother who worries incessantly about her child’s sniffles. (Spoiler alert: It’s normal, and brace yourself—it’ll last for 18 years, so keep those tissues handy.) The real problem is that virtually every message begins with the same overused term: Mama.
“Hey Mamas! Hi Mamas. New Mama here! Mamas, I need your help! Mamas, what should I do? Mamas, please stop sharing those vaccine articles! Thanks, Mamas. What would I do without you? Mamas—big news: My baby said ‘Mama’ today!” It’s as if the repetition has become a mantra that drowns out individuality.
My relationship with the term “mama” isn’t negative. It was endearing when a bohemian enthusiast first whispered it to me at my initial Grateful Dead concert. I felt a rush of emotion when my children first articulated it, their tiny voices stumbling over the word. Initially, I welcomed the title, embracing my identity as a mother and cherishing my connections with other moms online and in real life. However, over time, “mama” transformed into a label that feels burdensome.
While it’s a convenient way to refer to a group of mothers sharing parenting experiences, the relentless use of “mama” extends beyond the digital realm. I find myself being addressed as “mama” constantly—by the pediatrician checking on my sick child, the cashier at the grocery store, and even the energetic spin instructor who shouts, “All the mamas in the room!”
This incessant labeling trivializes our identities, reducing us to a singular role while overlooking the multitude of facets that define us. I am a mother, yes, but I am also a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aspiring aunt, a writer, a producer, a yoga instructor, a comedian, and a novice athlete. I have a college degree, I’m a feminist, a voter, and a voracious reader. I have my own quirks—like my obsession with a certain character from Outlander and my secret love for Twilight. I may have quit coffee, but I still sneak in a cup now and then. And despite trying numerous times, I still can’t figure out how to use the Diva Cup properly.
The moment we embark on our path of motherhood, society often dictates that this role overshadows all else. Regardless of whether we are pursuing our careers, managing a household, or simply trying to get dressed in the morning, if we’re not fulfilling the archetype of “mama” in a perfect Pinterest world, our worth seems diminished. We, as mothers, deserve the opportunity to embrace our full selves, to explore every aspect of our lives. While we celebrate our motherhood, it is equally vital to recognize and honor the other parts of our identities.
Whenever my husband and I go out alone, someone invariably asks who is caring for our children, as if their well-being rests solely on my shoulders. My husband, a devoted father, is rarely referred to as “Papa” in conversations or emails, nor is he reduced to just the title that represents his role as a parent. I want the layers of my identity to be acknowledged, challenged, and celebrated. I want the world to see the entirety of who I am. I am more than just “Mama,” and I know you are too.
Only my children have the right to call me “Mama.” The rest of the world needs to find a different term—oh, and “Mommy” doesn’t count.
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In summary, while the term “mama” may be a common and convenient way to connect, it’s essential to recognize the complete identity of every individual. Mothers are multifaceted beings, deserving of acknowledgment beyond just their role as parents.