Why do mothers judge each other?

Where is the solidarity between mothers? Why do we feel a need to cast a side-long glance in the direction of every other mum we pass on the street?

There are so many ways for women to judge each other and I ask the question, do men do that? Do men get through life constantly questioning the moves and motives of every other man, or do they get on with their own lives confidently, not worrying what the father next door is doing?

We, as women and mothers, need to stop being so critical. Does it hurt me or impact on my life in any way, shape or form that you do things differently? If it does not, then I should spare you my judgement.

Whether you choose to stay at home or continue your career, use cloth nappies or disposables, breastfeed your child until he's 3 years old or bottle feed from birth, give your child toys that I don't approve of ... we can disagree about these things until we lie down and die, but it doesn't achieve anything and all that time, all those years of motherhood spent scornfully snarling at each other's choices, merely increases the great gaping divide between us to further isolate and alienate each other.

I now realise that this constant criticism between women and mothers comes from a place of fragile insecurity in ourselves. First and foremost we judge ourselves too easily. We don't expect other women to be super mums, but we do expect that from ourselves. So we try to make the right decisions, we try to do the best we can and so finally we come to the conclusion that our way is the only way.

My supposedly comforting advice to another mother "do whatever is best for you and it will be what's best for your baby" came back to haunt me when, after struggling with breastfeeding for 4 and a half months I finally accepted that I had "failed". Jude was happier now that he was no longer fighting me off at meal times and was getting a full feed, and theoretically I understood that I had done everything I could and it wasn't my fault, but emotionally I continue to struggle. After a month I still find myself wondering if it would be possible to restart breastfeeding as I squeeze a little remnant milk from my nipple just to make sure ... I don't know why.

It doesn't help that when I meet other mothers and share my sad tale they ask me if I did this or tried that, and look at me with disrespect, tearing away at my already tattered ego. It's too late now anyway, even if I hadn't already tried everything. Nothing you can say will change things now and your scorn makes me feel terrible.

Having been on the receiving end of such judgement I see now with wide-open eyes that we, as women and mothers, should be there for each other and put aside our differences to give each other the support and love that we really, really need.