Participants related transitions in their intimate lives which often contained overarching narratives of contamination, survival and becoming. Often, one of these elements became the predominant feature shaping the overall narrative. Overall, however, the narratives were far from being clear-cut, cohesive accounts, drawing on a range of competing and contradictory discursive resources, although it is possible to discern some common themes and styles of storytelling. What I term ‘micro-narratives’ are self- contained narratives within these main narratives, used for illustrative purposes where they exemplify aspects of the broader interview narratives. Narratives in this study were often made up of a number of such smaller self-contained narratives and I have sought where possible to preserve these as spoken in order to provide context and ‘give voice’ to participants. It is likely that, having never been asked these questions in this
particular way before, participants constructed their main narratives through a series or patchwork of well-rehearsed anecdotes or ‘tellings of events,’ interspersed with
reflections, in order to shape and make sense of their narratives of intimacy.
This relates to the reworking of narrative identities, especially in coming to terms with experiences of identity disruption (Becker, 1997). Indeed notions of individuals progressing through time and experiencing transformation is deeply embedded in Western cultural traditions (Becker, 1997). Plummer’s work on ‘sexual stories’ is relevant; he identifies well established generic forms for the telling of relatively new stories such as ‘coming out’ and ‘recovery’ from abuse. These stories often involve ‘suffering, surviving and surpassing’ which, although relatively modern genres, also fit broadly into archetypal journeying narratives which involve ‘taking a journey,’ ‘suffering’ and ‘finding a home’ (Plummer, 1995). These genres are identifiable in my participants’ narratives, although they often resist a clear-cut generic resolution, rather conveying a
103 sense of disappointment and ambivalence. Many were immersed in the immediate challenges of day-to-day survival. Available genres are perhaps inadequate to describe the suddenness of the ruptures of identity and circumstances which, for many,
accompanied the transition into single motherhood. The modernist story genres
Plummer identifies have emerged in recent history, enabled by certain social conditions with the emergence of social movements such as gay rights and the women’s liberation movement (Plummer, 1995, p.60). Single mothers’ stories currently have no public forums in which to be heard; while they often run counter to dominant cultural
narratives there is no specific political framework or receptive public audience to enable their telling and, in a time of social and economic uncertainty, I would argue that they are still awaiting their moment in history.
These narratives of personal transitions often entailed a tentative, complex process, strewn with obstacles and often key ‘turning points’ (McAdams, Josselson and Lieblich, 2001; Strauss, 1969) where participants experienced a moment of clarity or realization which affected their future path. For Strauss (1969) ‘turning points’ are often a part of the process of self-development or transformation of identity – they may be part of a formal passage of status or, in the sense used here, a ‘moment of revelation’ which prompts a new phase. Smart and Neale (1999) found that self-development was an important aspect of women coming to terms with divorce. Participants’ turning points were often instigated by a ‘key figure’ in their lives or an event.
While there is often an element of a ‘triumph over adversity’ narrative arc (Plummer, 1995), ongoing challenges experienced by participants do not necessarily allow a straightforward redemptive movement (McAdams and Bowman, 2001). Participants often began by relating traumatic experiences of relationship breakdown and the challenging experience of adjusting to parenting alone, constituting what I refer to as a ‘double trauma’. For some, their life was conveyed as irreparably spoiled, failing to live up to their aspirations and expectations in terms of intimacy and engendering negative experiences of financial, social and emotional hardships along with spoiled identities (Goffman, 1963). These narratives are therefore dominated by ‘contamination’ narrative sequences, which indicate ways in which life has been spoiled, depicting decline and stagnation in contrast to the positive forward movements of redemptive sequences (McAdams and Bowman, 2001): ‘A redemption sequence is a movement in
life storytelling from an emotionally negative or bad scene to an emotionally positive or good outcome. By contrast, a contamination sequence encodes the reverse movement – from good to bad. In a contamination sequence, an emotionally positive or good experience is spoiled, ruined, sullied, or contaminated by an emotionally negative or
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bad outcome’ (McAdams and Bowman, 2001). McAdams and Bowman (2001) observe
that the contamination sequence has its roots in ancient traditions, particularly the ‘fall from grace’ prototype endemic in Judeo-Christian cultures. The use of contamination sequences by single mothers may reflect their need to testify to the painful experiences associated with becoming a single mother but having little opportunity to do so, and bolsters a common emphasis that single motherhood was not of their choosing. It is possible to discern a resistance to simplistic romantic ‘Hollywood’ consummative, redemptive endings (Plummer, 1995). Narratives of contamination may also reflect the narrator’s experiences of liminality (Becker, 1997; Turner, 1967) whereby they felt unable to sufficiently rework their life scripts and narratives, to move forward from their experiences of disruption, achieve closure and envisage a future. For Frank (1995), this inability to move forward in narrative terms constitutes ‘narrative wreckage’ (Frank, 1995).
Another overarching narrative was that of ‘survival’ – many narratives were ‘holding’ narratives, that is the participants moved beyond an initial contamination sequence to describing how they coped with their everyday lives and began to come to terms with relationships breakdowns and challenging circumstances. The majority of participants’ narratives could be described primarily as ‘survival’ narratives. Coming to terms with experiences often involved an overlapping ‘self-development’ narrative identified by Jordan (2004) as prevalent in contemporary life and crucial for women coming to terms with divorce (Smart and Neale, 1999). Closely related to the ‘survival’ narrative theme is that of ‘recovery,’ associated with therapeutic discourse and often found in narratives of overcoming addiction (Plummer, 1995); this was particularly pertinent for those single mothers who had experienced physical and mental illness and those recovering from experiences of abuse. In this way recovery was part of their ‘emotional’ as well as material survival. These narratives often trace a solitary, individual trajectory from the position of being a ‘victim’ within intimate relationships and also within the wider society, through being a ‘survivor’ and in several cases towards transformation or
becoming.
‘Becoming,’ is used in the sense of reclaiming a sense of personhood which some
participants felt they had lost through negative relationship and relationship breakdown experiences (Smart and Neale, 1999). This broadly relates to Giddens’ emphasis on the importance of the self as a reflexive project in Western modern life, in terms of seeking to re-find or recreate the self, which he observed specifically in post-divorce couples (Giddens, 1991). ‘Transformation’ indicates moving into a new phase or identity (Becker, 1997; Strauss, 1969) and so these narratives are ultimately
105 redemptive (McAdams and Bowman, 2001). A minority of participants’ narratives moved into this redemptive category and this in the main reflected their circumstances; for example their children might have grown older, giving them more space and time to pursue their personal goals or careers. Others, despite professional and academic achievements, were unable emotionally to move beyond the sense of their lives having been spoiled. There was also an example of a single mother living in extremely difficult circumstances who nevertheless felt her life (including her intimate life) was in a
forward movement and that her transition to single motherhood and away from an abusive relationship was emancipatory. There was much diversity and complexity among these narratives which eludes simplistic categorisation.
Therapeutic discourses which incorporate and endorse this forward movement of healing and reworking identities have limited value in describing and making sense of lives which contain difficult, messy and ambivalent experiences and emotions (Craib, 1994). Rather, the narratives often conveyed a sense of profound suffering, lack of choice involved and ways in which participants have been forced into difficult decisions through the need to make the most of their circumstances and survive. Others related how over time their situation contained possibilities for recovering from past traumas, exploring new intimacies, gaining a sense of control over their lives and rediscovering a sense of personhood - a goal often privileged at least temporarily above the formation of new relationships. The situation of being single did open up for some the possibility of redefining what they are seeking from intimate relationships, entailing a questioning of pre-conceived intimacy scripts.
Contamination
Contamination narrative sequences (McAdams and Bowman, 2001) which emerged here included experiences of violence, other forms of abuse and the loss of self often entailed; the necessity of making difficult decisions; the trauma of becoming a single mother and enduring financial hardship; experiences of stigmatisation or ‘spoiled identity’ (Goffman, 1963) through the loss of social status, and ultimately the loss of idealised intimacy scripts which shaped expectations of how their life trajectories, partnerships and families would be. Goffman’s work (1963) explicates the process of an identity becoming spoiled, stigmatised or ‘disqualified from full social acceptance’ (Goffman, 1963, p.9). For Goffman, stigma represents a discrepancy between a person’s ‘virtual social identity’ where they may see themselves as a ‘normal human being’ who deserves to be accepted and their ‘actual identity’ whereby their identity claims are discredited and so spoiled. This process may be especially difficult for
106 those, such as single mothers, who become stigmatised later in life as their own deeply held views of what is normal and acceptable may be challenged and this may therefore necessitate a radical reorganisation of their view of the past (Goffman, 1963, p.47). The transition to single motherhood in contamination sequences was often infused with a sense of shame, linked to ‘spoiled identity’ (Goffman, 1963) and this will be explored in more depth in Chapter 6. As Becker (1997) observes, disruptions to the life course can engender a destruction of personhood, identity, sense of normalcy and ‘fit’ into society.
One of the most impactful experiences of contamination came from those participants who had experienced domestic violence or other forms of abuse and had to escape from their partners and / or fathers of their children. In this sample eight of the
participants reported experiences of abuse from the fathers of their children. Emma, a 44 year-old full-time employed mother of two, provided an exemplary case: her story contained all of the narrative features of disruption, contamination, survival, becoming, emancipation and recovery. As with participants in similar situations, Emma
experienced a ‘double trauma’ of abuse and then, having escaped that situation, became a single mother, experiencing significant material disadvantage and ‘spoiled identity’. Her narrative initially focused on these intense experiences, then moved through stages of survival and recovery, which involved building personal confidence; supporting herself and her children; developing a career and beginning to rediscover and rebuild her intimate life through friendships and relationships. Her narrative began with the story of beginning to recover from severe, suicidal depression - stemming from being trapped in an abusive marriage - and making the decision to leave the marriage and start a new life. In line with Frank’s (1995) notion of the ‘wounded storyteller’ the narrative does not directly relate the experience of violence itself but traces around it, focussing on the effects on her. Smart (2000) noted that women who have experienced domestic violence tend to underplay it and this may be that it is painful to talk about in conjunction with possible feelings of shame. This extract captures Emma’s journey through despair to hope, fear and realization and narrates a ‘turning point’ (Strauss, 1969); a moment of revelation whereby she recognized life was worth living if she could experience pleasure:
‘What I was trying to do was to shut down basically and became a bit of a robot and sort of shut down myself and everything that I wanted for me and me just disappeared really… I hated me, didn’t like me and um… so I sort of shut down and was just looking after the kids, doing housework and um… that kind of thing but it was only [a singer] – he helped me get out ‘cos I heard his concert and it just moved me so much that I just thought if I’m still capable of feeling this way
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then maybe life would still be worth living even if I could only have moments… I guess what I’m trying to say is that it showed me that there are things out there that can make you really happy and bring you lots of pleasure and that life didn’t have to be so miserable [laughs] so I thought, you know, part of it was that I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want to take my kids away from their father… that was very difficult to get over, knowing that I was going to get a lot of stigma ‘cos I was a single parent, knowing I had no good qualifications, no marketable skills, no family support… um, that was a major obstacle that I had to overcome through counselling, realising that if I was going to have to make this step I was going to have to make it on my own’.
This reveals that a fear of single motherhood made it difficult to leave the relationship, encompassing fear of being alone; of the consequences of taking the children away from their father; facing an uncertain economic future and of experiencing stigma (a fear of stigma preventing women from leaving their partners or meaning they stayed with them longer than they would otherwise was noted by Ford and Millar, 1998). As with many participants, the emphasis on the difficulty of the choice to become a single parent is in contradistinction to the stereotype of single mothers deliberately choosing their circumstances. There was recognition of the reality that this was going to be an extremely difficult step and there would be little material or social support, exacerbated by the anticipation of stigma associated with single mothers. However, her turning point, encapsulated in experiencing a moment of pleasure and transcendence, provided a strong motivation to improve her life. The individualised, solitary nature of the journey she was about to undertake was underlined with her realisation that she was going to have to ‘make it on her own’. She emphasized her lack of material belongings, skills and qualifications, demonstrating how she was starting with no resources and highlighting the enormity of the journey she was about to undertake and the obstacles she had to overcome.
Anita, a mother of two in her late forties, unemployed at the time of interview, also narrated a moment of clarity which proved to be a turning point in her life. This micro- narrative counterpoises the superficial, outwardly happy appearance of her marriage with the reality of having every aspect of her life controlled by her husband. She used the rhetorical device of how she ‘woke up one morning’ and realized she could not live in that way anymore to emphasize the suddenness of her realization as opposed to her previous lack of awareness and ‘personhood’. She described the psychological abuse she endured where, under the threat of violence, she had to work to a strict routine to keep the house and children perfect, every aspect of which was dictated by her
108 husband. This created a loss of personhood and highlights the ‘inner strength’ or courage it took to make the decision to leave. Again, she traced the edge of ‘the wound’ or the worst aspects of what she endured, simply saying, ‘there was a lot more to it than that’. Anita resisted positioning herself solely as a victim, enabling a more positive identity to emerge:
‘My um then ex-husband’s parents were quite well off and we bought a house in x and he built it for me and it was lovely and if I give you the bits in between the abuse and the punching and the fighting – that would probably be boring – but um... that was it. I woke up one day and I can even remember, it was a Saturday and I said I want a divorce. I couldn’t stand living like that anymore. I don’t know... he used to give me a menu on a Monday and I used to have to cook the menu and it used to have to be ready by a certain time um and that was it, I was never allowed to do anything. As long as his house was spotless and his children were spotless. So all his towels were straight and the tins in the cupboard were straight and that’s how he lived and that was it. Well it wasn’t, there was a lot more to it than that but that was the way it was and I don’t know, I woke up one day and um just didn’t want to do it anymore so...um I don’t know where I got the courage from to be honest but I went and found a place to rent and I took my children… and that was it really’.
Chloe, an unemployed 33 year-old mother of two, had recently escaped from an abusive relationship in another country. Her turning point (or ‘crux’ as she described it) came when she returned to the UK to visit friends and family against the wishes of her partner and he made a suicide attempt. Even though that particular act of violence had been committed against himself rather than her, being away from the situation had given her a perspective she hadn’t had access to while in the abusive situation where she was psychologically controlled - and she made the decision to stay in the UK. As with Anita and Emma, psychological abuse meant that she had lost self-awareness and insight into her own situation of powerlessness and victimisation until a moment of realization. These narratives reveal the extent of the control exerted by abusive partners, causing their perceptions to become distorted so that they needed to be sufficiently physically and mentally removed from their situation to see it clearly:
‘It came to a sort of crux in the summer because my… my ex was violent and um and an alcoholic and he was very against me coming to see my family and um but I had done... and while I was here he took an overdose and ended up in hospital and that was the climax of an argument really, he put the phone down
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and did that and I think after the shock of being… once the shock had subsided I realised that it was almost the reverse – he’d committed a violence to himself as opposed to me but I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d had that physical space to myself by being here to see um just that little bit of perspective that in abusive relationships is so hard to gain sometimes ‘cos they’ve got control that I thought I’ve just got to stay here so I did… it was the beginning of a downward slope after that and I mean the abuse, it meant that I had no power really, it was very one sided and it felt like it was another area of control um… So now I’m just very much enjoying being alone really!’
For many participants, the process of becoming a single mother was difficult, even