Maybe there isn’t really a Mommy War as much as I am sensitive about stuff. Maybe I had a dream for how I’d raise my kid – breastfeeding, staying-at-home, co-sleeping, whatever it is. And maybe one of those things didn’t work. And that hurts. There’s a little mini-grieving process that occurs when something doesn’t happen the way you want it to. And instead of thinking that I’m just being sensitive about an issue (which might be totally okay to be sensitive about), maybe it’s easier if I call it a War. Then the responsibility is on the other person and not on me. That (falsely) eases the pain.
Same thing happened when I was single. My “getting engaged” friends were naturally excited about their life, while sometimes it just reminded me of my singleness. For years this happened. Neither of us were wrong, unless my “getting engaged” friends were intentional jerks about it like “I’m getting married and you aren’t, neener neener neener!” Which they never were. I was happy for them, but that reminded me of my own sadness (at times).
So, sometimes, I’m sensitive on topics. It isn’t part of a War. It isn’t someone being a jerk. It isn’t someone being immature. It’s just that the pain is a little raw and it hurts a little. It’s part of life.