The Circle of Becoming: Self-Discovery •Becoming • Purpose

Conversations about motherhood often focus on responsibility, accountability, and personal choices — but rarely on the larger context that shapes them. Shame is quick to be assigned, while understanding is often left out of the conversation altogether. This reflection connects the dots between history, culture, and lived experience, exploring how mothers carry blame in systems that don’t always acknowledge the full picture.

---

After reading The House of Eve, a historical fiction novel that follows the journey of two Black women navigating the path to motherhood, something in me was stirred.

It made me pause and reflect — not just on the story itself, but on the generations of women before us, and the layered, complicated ways society has responded to out-of-wedlock pregnancy.

So I began asking questions.

What actually changed?

How did we go from communities where men felt compelled — if not always willing — to marry the women they got pregnant, to a reality where women carry both the baby and the blame, while men often walk away unscathed?

---

📉 Shotgun Marriages: A Form of Social Pressure and Protection

Before the 1970s, it was common for a man to marry the woman he got pregnant—especially in working-class communities—because not doing so came with shame, judgment, and loss of reputation. These shotgun marriages weren’t always rooted in love or compatibility, but they served as a social accountability mechanism.

For women, marriage protected their image and the legitimacy of the child. For men, it was about avoiding public shame or backlash. It wasn’t ideal, but it was structured.

Then, everything shifted.

💊 The Reproductive Revolution and the Decline of Marriage Pressure

With the introduction of birth control (1960) and legal abortion (Roe v. Wade, 1973), women were given more reproductive options—and society no longer expected men to “do the right thing” just because a baby was on the way. The pressure was off.

At the same time, government aid programs like AFDC and later TANF stepped in to support single mothers—but not without consequences. These policies often penalized marriage and made single-mother households more common, especially in low-income Black communities.

Let’s look at the numbers:

In the 1960s, about 26% of Black children were born out of wedlock. By the 1990s, that number had climbed to 68%.

This wasn’t simply a matter of women making “poor choices.” It was the result of structural shifts that removed men from the center of accountability, while leaving women to either terminate their pregnancies or raise children alone.

🎙️ The Modern Blame Game: What the Conversations Keep Missing

I brought this up in a Facebook group recently—not to debate, but to offer some context to a conversation that’s become exhausting in a lot of Black spaces, especially online.

You know the one: where male podcasters (and sometimes women too) debate why modern women aren’t like the women of the 1950s. And somehow, it always ends with:

• “Women just don’t take accountability anymore.”
• “Y’all chose the wrong men.”
• “You had the baby, so deal with it.”

So I posted:

Ok fellas, I have a question for you…

Lately, I’ve been diving into historical fiction and just finished a novel about two Black women navigating motherhood in the 1950s. That story sent me down a deep rabbit hole about how unwed pregnancies were handled back then—and what I’ve noticed , some of you all with mics are not telling the full story.

So here you go…

Yes, premarital sex and babies out of wedlock have always existed—but back then, the consequences were heavy. Social stigma was real. If a woman got pregnant outside of marriage, the man was often expected to “do right” and marry her. Not necessarily out of love, but out of duty—because family honor, community standing, and the legitimacy of the child were on the line.

These were what we now call shotgun marriages—and they were common.

[See: Coontz, S. (2005). Marriage, A History]

But then came access to contraception and abortion. Women now had options, and the pressure on men to marry faded. Add in government programs like AFDC (Aid to Families with Dependent Children) in the ’60s, and the state essentially stepped in as provider when men stepped out.

[See: Roberts, D. (1997). Killing the Black Body]

Then, by the 1980s and beyond, the “marriage bar” rose. Financial stability became a new prerequisite for marriage. Meanwhile, Black men were dealing with mass incarceration, job discrimination, and systemic poverty.

[See: Wilson, W.J. (1987). The Truly Disadvantaged]

So no—it wasn’t just women “choosing” welfare over men. It wasn’t a breakdown in values. It was a breakdown in systems. It was policy. Poverty. Pressure. And shifting norms that left women with the weight and men with the freedom to opt out.

I asked:

So you mean to tell me the story is deeper than the narratives y’all push in these podcasts and Facebook threads?

Let’s talk about it. 👇🏾

But all I got was crickets. Or deflections.

🔍 What That Silence Reveals

What’s almost never acknowledged is that the sharp rise in out-of-wedlock births in the Black community—reaching nearly 70% by the 1990s—directly correlates with the decline of shotgun marriages. And that shift didn’t happen because women suddenly lacked discipline. It happened because men were no longer expected—socially or culturally—to marry simply because a child was on the way.

Black women weren’t “opting out of motherhood.” They were choosing to carry and raise their children. It was the men who were opting out of marriage—without social, financial, or emotional consequence.

Fast forward to today:

Women are shifting.

In the absence of a ring or societal validation, many are now using their education, career, and financial stability as armor—ways to soften the sting of shame and reclaim dignity in a culture that once only valued them through proximity to a man. It’s not that motherhood outside of marriage has stopped being judged—it’s that women are finding new ways to stand tall in it.

Because when the world won’t protect your image, sometimes you build your own.

So again I ask, honestly and with love:

If accountability is only expected from one side… where do we go from here?

💭 When the Conversations Turn Frustrating

Now if we’re being honest—these conversations can get real frustrating, especially when you bring up history or cultural patterns, and someone immediately jumps in with, “Well, if you didn’t want a baby out of wedlock, you shouldn’t have had sex.”

It’s not that I don’t believe in discipline or accountability. I absolutely do. But the lack of emotional depth and historical awareness in these conversations makes it hard to even engage.

It’s frustrating when people reduce complex generational issues down to, “Just don’t do it.” When someone skips over context—like poverty, systemic inequality, lack of male accountability, or cultural shifts—and just jumps into moral high ground territory, it’s not insightful. It’s dismissive.

And here’s what I’ve learned: that frustration doesn’t make me overly emotional. It makes me aware.

Aware of how women’s bodies, choices, and reputations are still policed, while men are given space to “grow,” “learn,” and “start over.”

Aware of how many people aren’t ready to have honest, uncomfortable conversations about what accountability for everyone could actually look like.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t teach our kids to be responsible. I’m saying we should also teach compassion, critical thinking, and shared accountability—not just personal consequences.

So…Where Do We Go From Here?

We move beyond shame and into real, honest conversations. We stop glorifying the past without acknowledging the pain and coercion that came with it. We hold both women and men accountable for the roles they play—and we tell the whole story, not just the convenient parts.

Because the truth is, we didn’t just wake up one day with a “baby mama culture.” That came from somewhere. And if we’re going to talk about solutions, we have to be willing to talk about the systems, the gender dynamics, and the real history that shaped where we are now.

A Word to the Mothers: Shame Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

I didn’t write this blog to teach—I wrote it to reflect. Because I know what it feels like to carry the weight. To be in spaces where your story is reduced to poor choices and lack of discipline…while the men who helped create that story walk away untouched, unbothered, and sometimes even celebrated.

This is for the mothers who’ve had to explain themselves in rooms where no one’s asking about the man.

This is for the women who’ve been told to “choose better,” when no one ever taught them how.

This is for the ones doing it all, holding it together, and healing at the same time.

Sis, shame doesn’t belong to you. That’s something society handed us a long time ago—and we don’t have to keep it.

So the next time one of these podcasters gets on the mic with their one-sided blame game, remember: just because they don’t choose to tell your story doesn’t mean it’s not worth telling.

Thank God for the books that do.

Thank God for the authors who see us.

And thank God for women like you—still standing, still mothering, still rewriting the narrative.

🫶🏽A Gentle Call to Action

If this spoke to you, take a moment. Breathe. Know that your story, your choices, your journey—they matter.

And if you’re ready:

Share this with another woman who might be carrying the weight alone. Talk about it in your book club, your group chat, or even your journal. Say the thing out loud that someone once tried to shame you into silence over.

Because the only way we shift culture is if we tell the truth. And the truth is: we’ve been carrying a story they’ve refused to tell.

But not anymore.

We’re telling it now.