I’ve been working on this idea for a few months and I’m so excited to finally be bringing it to you. It began as an idea for a single article, but it’s grown into a little project that I’ll spread over a few. There’s too much good stuff to cram it into one!
I’ll start by introducing you to a special group of women….
These women still call me Joanna, because that was my name until I was 9 and I decided Jo sounded cooler. I don’t remember a time they weren’t there, part of a web that existed around my nuclear family. My mum built it, the web. I’ve always felt she had a knack for friendship, though she says that after my little brother died when I was four she found out who her true friends were, so maybe she learnt the hard way. What I do know is that these were the women who caught her. And in doing so, they caught me too.
As I kid, I was fascinated by these relationships. Of an evening, my mum would curl up in the armchair with a cuppa, phone cord wrapped around her legs, and talk for hours to her friends. I’d shrink into a corner, desperate to linger and listen to the one-sided exchange. Sometimes she would turf me out, a conversation not suitable for my young ears, but often she tolerated me.
We would frequently share time and food with their families. During weekends at Karen’s it was usual to find her and Mum deep in conversation and a bottle of wine, whilst the dads whipped up a tasty roast dinner in the kitchen. I would notice how the men seemed to talk of nothing and the women talked of everything.
My mum was a feminist, in an era when you didn’t have to be. She pulled me out of Nursery school because a teacher suggested that the train set I got for Christmas was probably for my brother. It follows then, I suppose, that the women she held dear were ones who hadn’t lost themselves to their husbands. I remember them being vibrant and fun, juggling families and studies and jobs; just like we do now.
Somewhere within these moments and others, I learnt that women knew all there was to know about the world. There was no problem too big, no event too overwhelming, no situation too distressing, that one of them couldn’t catch you and put you back on your feet.
The idea for this piece sparked as I read
’s article Where are all the wise women? . Her words ache with the absence of maternal elders in her life to turn to for guidance.Yet, I long for the wise women. The council of my elders. The mothers who have walked before me and learned a thing or two about the journey. On the hard days, I long for someone to hold me, to care for me, to tell me I am doing a wonderful job raising my son.
I felt her grief because I imagined for a moment what my life may have been without this maternal tribe.
When I split from my long-term boyfriend, age 23, my parents were in The Netherlands. Distraught, I phoned my mum. ‘I’ll call Helen’, she said. ‘Go there’. And so, it was Helen who provided the open arms, the tissues, the bed for the night, and the words so wise that they soothed me and stayed with me. The web was strong.
So, when faced with the question, ‘Where are all the wise women?’, my response was, ‘I know exactly where they are’. And I felt an urgency to get that wisdom from them, because it suddenly seemed such a waste that they were just carrying it around in their heads.
They are not a digital generation and they don’t feel compelled to share their lives publicly. When we turn to the internet for guidance and wisdom we do not find their stories. But we have so much to learn from them.
These six women have amassed well over 400 years of lived experience. They have each been married for over 40 years. They’ve had 16 children and 28 grandchildren between them. They’ve worked and not worked and done combinations of the two. They’ve been through some huge challenges. And they have perspective.
I asked for their reflections on topics that I see our generation grappling with; body image, confidence, relationships, parenting, career. They’ve also given me their thoughts on ‘what really matters’ and what they regret.
It’s a big ask of someone to mull back over their life. They have reported it being, “Really very difficult to do”, “Like having a therapy session” and, “Kind of cathartic!”. Many of them expressed doubt that they had wisdom to share, but I can assure you - they do! I’m so grateful that they have gifted this to us. What a privilege.
I will begin next week, bringing their shared thoughts, reflections, and wisdom to you. In the meantime, if you have a question for the Matriarchs, do let me know. I’ve got them on WhatsApp!
Well I’m crying because I love this idea and I feel you personally answered my call. I am so excited for this series and what a wonderful idea. I am already immensely grateful for the women in your life who are willing to share their wisdom and experiences with the community. It’s truly heart warming to me because I don’t know where to turn for that sort of support.
Ah I love this and can’t wait for the series. That feeling of wishing I had my Mum here so that there was actually someone who was looking after me for once - instead of it always being me looking after everyone else massively resonates. I’ve found people who have been there for guidance for me, for which I am extremely grateful - but never anyone who just knows when you need help, has you at the top of their priority list, like I would do for my children. I have felt the anger and proper green eyed jealously of seeing others with amazing Mum’s and support systems that I longed for so much when the kids were little especially. My sister and I talk about that often as we only have a certain capacity to help each other when both of us are trying to juggle parenthood, jobs and life.
What I am pleased about is that I know I will have that tribe that you talk of if anything ever happened to me. My children’s Aunties whether they be real ones or the ones they have called Auntie since they were born would always step up for them in the way Helen did for you in that instance. That makes me happy. I also have so much to thank all those Aunties for helping me in so many ways. The difference like you say is the wisdom that comes from the older generation. X