I finally found belonging at a skatepark, not in motherhood

Motherhood, I assumed, would be a time of emotional expansion. No doubt, I would bond effortlessly with other parents, brought together by the profound experience of raising children. I imagined swapping war stories, laughing and crying in equal measure. Instead, my experience of baby groups has been lonely.

- SUSANNAH MCINTYRE

Conversations centre around the parenting logistics of nap schedules, feeding routines, and the latest gadgets – not the raw, messy heart and soul of parenting.

Even with old friends, the easy flow of conversation has been replaced with something stilted, anxiety-driven, and covertly competitive. Where once we swapped dating and work misfires over wine, we now navigate strained discussions at barbecues, subtly measuring our children’s milestones against each other. As a child, adult gatherings had an element of mystery. The adults were in a world of their own that we aspired to join. Now, our generation has somehow surrendered entirely to a world dominated by children. Kids no longer entertain themselves at parties; they climb all over us, as though sensing that adults have nothing left that is truly their own.

After having three children in under three years, hot on the heels of lockdown, I found myself with no real release or fun and community with other adults. When I saw that an indoor skatepark had opened in Cambridge and they were looking for volunteers, I was intrigued. I had been a keen inline skater as a teenager and had even worked in a skate shop. The prospect of checking people in and ensuring they didn’t kill themselves in a cool space felt almost spa-like in its contrast to my allconsuming life of kids-work-kids.