Last updated on January 26th, 2026 at 10:36 pm
I noticed that I’m bored and more irritable these days. It could be that I stopped projecting into the future, both pain and pleasure. I’m just not far into the future anymore. The present is demanding a lot from me. It could also be that I lack sources of entertainment that match the amount of pleasure that binge-watching F1 on Netflix (a show I just concluded) gave me. Maybe I need to leave my space for a while and go see other people. I really think it is a lack of escapism that’s causing my boredom. And I think it’s a good time to recalibrate and get a little artificial dopamine detox. Also, it could just be PMS.
Life is boring like that, though. Many days are the same, many days are mundane. We are bound to always want some drama, some sense of purpose, a little bit of distraction from the present moment. We like to constantly be chasing. So, the idea of getting hitched, being of service to another on the grounds of marital obligations, can be a form of distraction, the right amount required to escape the now.
…
Even this, becoming a mother, is not my thing. It’s that simple. I can’t justify the hard labour, quite literally, that is required to bring forth and raise life. I also only clocked thirty, and it feels like I might have the privilege to live my life, boring as it may be. It feels like I’m only just getting lucky enough to bloom rather than being stuffed out.
Why saddle myself with such a responsibility and potentially stall my bloom for who knows how long? It’s the same way I consider that maybe having my partner’s family take yams and other bridal items to my parents to ask for my hand in marriage is not inherently bad. It’s so normalised because it’s common, and it’s probably the cool thing. But to what end? Like, what does that mean? It doesn’t make me feel valued or respected. It’s just not my thing.
Back to becoming a mother, like Sheila Heti in Motherhood, I go back and forth, as if trying to convince myself that it can’t be that bad. I try to find a little chink in my armour. Babies are cute, yeah, but I remember that they require a lot, and they become adults, full humans. Do I want a baby or a human, or a potential teenager/adult? I went plant-based (aka vegan) in 2021 for ethical reasons. In December 2024, at a Christmas get-together, I ate meat. Something in me broke, all the “restrictions” in social gatherings, the cost of maintaining the lifestyle, the limited accessibility to other plant-based “meat” apart from Tofu. After an entire year of eating only tofu when previously we could get Seitan and different mushrooms, I think I was tired.
That’s how society works. Everything is set up almost like an ambush, and before you know it, you succumb, you break. The strength required to uphold your values becomes too much, and you wonder if it’s that serious. You stop fighting against the tide and go with the current. Romantic love is in itself an ambush. It’s sappy and cheesy and feels good, and he is possessive and chivalrous and thoughtful and… he simply doesn’t exist. It’s a vague concept that I haven’t figured out yet.
Just as I struggle with maintaining veganism right now, and can no longer call myself one, I see the struggle in being the only one who sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s psychological. At this point, many of my friends and acquaintances are married with kids. I don’t want to copy them but if that many people are doing it, a part of me is convinced that it must be really easy and normal, getting married and having children, just like everyday activities.
Tell me why I then struggle with considering myself as a wife and a mother? Eventually, I might do it, become these titles. Who knows? I’m just a struggling feminist with years of indoctrination to undo after all.
