Conclusion: Little Lies Everywhere

Conclusion: Little Lies Everywhere

When people ask me about the topic of my graduate thesis, I typically respond, “It’s about mothers who lie to their children.” I’ve delivered this line countless times over the past year, and I’ve noticed that no matter who is doing the asking, the reaction is always the same. Almost everyone asks me why I’ve chosen this topic, but in their raised brows and tilted heads, I can see that what these individuals really want to know is why I’ve chosen such a mysterious, negative, and perhaps controversial subject. Put differently, I can sense in their shock and skepticism an understanding that bad mothers, and specifically lying mothers, are a taboo topic (true) and an assumption that my analysis is an unfavorable one (not true). 

As stated in my introduction, the societal tendency to view mothers, particularly white mothers, as wholly loving and sacrificial toward their children is not new, and it is not entirely surprising to me that my subject matter elicits pause. Still, my interviewers’ hesitancy to engage with such a topic is intriguing given the plethora of contemporary fiction and television shows devoted to the concept of maternal lies. Two recent examples are Bridgerton and Ginny and Georgia, which both have plot lines concerned with the effects of maternal secrecy; though both shows premiered in 2021, they already hold the titles of Netflix’s second and third most-watched programs.[1] Then there’s Gilmore Girls and Gossip Girl, which have been off the air since 2007 and 2012, respectively, but have recently received renewed attention and garnered younger fandoms on the social media platform TikTok. The success of these shows confirms a claim I made in the introduction to this thesis: that even as we uphold an unrealistic ideal of mothers as perfect, sacrificial caretakers, we are fascinated, even entertained by, all mothers who don’t fit that mold, but especially the ones who lie and keep secrets from their children. 

I, too, am one of these individuals. I embarked on this year-long project because I wanted to understand why real mothers, such as my mother, conceal truths from their children and loved ones. I expected to find concrete answers and logical explanations, but instead I learned that lies don’t often come down to logic and that there is no such thing as a simple truth. There is no one reason why mothers lie, intentionally or unintentionally; rather, as this thesis shows, trauma, fear, structural oppression, interpersonal conflict, poverty, immigration status, identity crises and, chiefly, love all play a role in a mother’s decision to lie and therefore conceal part of herself from her child. Recognizing these factors forced me to abandon my preconceived notions of lies as universally wrong and immoral. Through the stories of Celeste, Jane, Elena, Bebe, Polly, Mia, and Stella, I learned to see lies as acts of survival, self-preservation, and care; in the face of people and systems attempting to strip these women of their autonomy, lies become means through which they can take back control of their lives and maintain their maternal identities. 

I also wanted my project to investigate the effects of lies on the mother-child relationship. I sought answers to questions such as how much do mothers need to tell their children and how do children young and old process the exposure of truths and lies? Again, I found these questions lacked universal answers. In reading Big Little Lies, Little Fires Everywhere, The Leavers, and The Vanishing Half, as well as my theoretical texts, I realized the toll that one’s lies takes on one’s children largely depends on a myriad of factors such as the child’s age, the magnitude of the lie, the way it comes to light, and the extent to which the mother takes accountability for her actions. For example, given their young age and their relative distance from their mothers’ lies, Celeste’s and Jane’s children remain relatively unscathed at the end of Big Little Lies, while Izzy, Pearl, Deming, and Kennedy struggle, to various degrees, to forgive their mothers’ dishonesty and mend their shattered senses of self. Still, these novels do offer hope that, with time and transparency, these mothers can mend their broken relationships with their children. And, if their own children can forgive them or, at the very least, understand their motives for lying, then we, as readers and scholars and children, can come to empathize with these mothers for doing what they thought they had to do to survive in every sense of the word. Perhaps then we can extend this empathy, forgiveness, and understanding to real mothers and collectively work toward eliminating the forces that lead mothers to lie in the first place. 

 

I am not a mother, but I hope to be one someday. I want the world in which I raise my children to be one where mothers feel truly free, where they don’t have to worry about being ridiculed for every little choice they make, and where they don’t have to lie or hide themselves away. I want the world in which I mother to be one that understands that perfect mothers don’t exist, but that imperfection does not equate to badness. Simply put, I want to live in a world where mothers can be flawed and messy with real emotions like rage and fear and sorrow, and still be deemed worthy of empathy, grace, and support. Regarding this last item, there’s already been some promising developments. On January 26, 2021, Girls Who Code took out a full-page advertisement in The New York Times calling on President Biden to implement a “Marshall Plan for Moms.” The plan, signed and supported by male and female celebrities like Gabrielle Union, Amy Schumer, and Steph Curry, features $2,400 monthly stimulus checks and paid family leave acts to help mothers get back to work during the coronavirus pandemic. The ad reads, “It’s time to put a dollar figure on our labor. Motherhood isn’t a favor and it’s not a luxury. It’s a job. The first 100 days are an opportunity to define our values. So let’s start by valuing moms.”[2] In the four months since the ad came out, there has been very little movement on the Marshall Plan for Moms and, because vaccinations are on the rise and schools are reopening, demand for the bill seems to be waning. Still, the fact that such a demand can attract national attention and earn the support of high-profile celebrities, athletes, and politicians gives me hope that the tide is turning when it comes to the societal valuation of maternal labor and care. We still have a long way to go when it comes to humanizing and privileging maternal voices, especially the voices of marginalized and BIPOC mothers, but it is my hope that as more books, television shows, films, and high-profile figures continue to address the nuances of the maternal experience, we will come to see mothers for what they truly are — not labels, not archetypes, not binaries or bearers of the world’s burdens, but human beings.

[1] Evans, Richard. “The Biggest Shows on Netflix in 2021 So Far.” Best Life, 23 April 2021, https://bestlifeonline.com/biggest-netflix-shows-2021-news/. Accessed April 23, 2021.

[2] Abrahamson, Rachel Paula. “Why Amy Schumer, Eva Longoria and more celebs want moms to get paid,” TODAY, 26 Jan. 2021, https://www.today.com/parents/celebrities-ask-biden-pay-mothers-monthly-stipend-t206994. Accessed April 23, 2021.

 

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