'Nightbitch' Explores the Many Facets of Identity in Motherhood

...including those of the canine variety

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Trigger warning: This is a review of a horror novel. Some readers may find it a bit gory.

I read Rachel Yoder’s novel “Nightbitch: A Novel” on my phone in the dark while my young daughter slept beside me. It was the week of Christmas and we were visiting family half way across the country. I was exhausted and thoroughly overstimulated with the stressors of plane travel, making Christmas magic, and entertaining the kids over a two week break from school.

Sharing a bed with my daughter means being kicked in any number of places. Her arm occasionally flung in my direction and knocked the phone right out of my hand.

Exhausted. Touched-out. Nightbitch. I totally got it.

“Nightbitch” illustrates all of these common realities of motherhood. The monotony of the daily routine, the awkwardness of “bookbaby” meetings at the local library, and the resentment of being the primary caregiver. But what stood out to me was the emphasis on identity, and the rage that arises when we are not permitted to fully embody all the different parts of ourselves as mothers.

Nightbitch immediately highlights this loss of identity in motherhood. Our protagonist is identified only as “mother”. Yup, that is her only name. Until recently she described herself as “the very picture of a mother, self sacrificing and domestic, un-gripey, un-grumpy, refreshed even after unrefreshing nights of nonsleep.”

But it is on one of those sleepless nights that she finally snaps, lashing out angrily at her husband who once again sleeps through their son’s cries. The next morning, her husband comments that she was “kind of a bitch.” And the Nightbitch is born.

Although women are encouraged and expected to embrace the identity of “mother”, it is only a sterilized and idealized version of motherhood that is allowed. Mothers aren’t allowed to be messy, rageful, unhappy, or out of control. And yet, motherhood is all of these things. This forces mothers to not just cut off the parts of her identity that are seen as extraneous to parenting, but to also aspire to a more palatable version of motherhood; one that is not uncomfortable for others to watch. The result can be suffocating.

Or rage-inducing.

Yoder’s protagonist also vocalizes the ambivalence that women often feel about how much of their identity is sacrificed in the name of motherhood. The mother grieves the loss of her dream job. She wonders if she made the right choice for herself, but could not tolerate the guilt that she felt at putting her child in daycare.

She feels envy as she watches her friends and colleagues advance in their career and pursue exciting creative projects. She no longer feels that she belongs in that crowd, stating “She had not felt this way since, what, high school? Junior high? Less than and left out and lame…” She craves the opportunity to reconnect with her creativity.

I recalled the question of whether women can really “have it all”; children and a fulfilling career. The answer is of course, yes, but the reality is that to accomplish it all means walking a tightrope fraught with guilt, self-doubt, fatigue, and societal criticism. We can have it all but it may be hard to feel good about it.

We miss our children when we are away. Our careers progress more slowly and there will always be difficult decisions to make about how to best use our time. It may feel that none of our work gets 100 percent of our effort.

Women in this stage often complain that they do not feel as “smart” as they used to. They notice changes in their ability to focus, even complaining of brain fog. This may be due to the physiological changes that are occurring in the brain for up to two years post-partum. It is likely also a result of terrible sleep and the increased stress and mental load of motherhood. The demands of parenting further burdens the parts of the brain responsible for attention and memory. These challenges may not be enough to actually impact a mother’s ability to do her work, but it is often concerning to women, making them wonder if they will ever feel as “smart” as they used to before kids.

In our productivity-obsessed, capitalist society it makes sense that our identities are distilled down to the roles of parenting and career. But what about the other parts of ourselves? What about a woman’s creativity, spirituality, sexuality, athleticism and play? There are endless facets of ourselves that are pushed aside to make space for motherhood.

In therapy, mothers often ask me if they will return to their pre-child levels of motivation, energy, and ambition. Undoubtably, yes, you can feel all those things again. But I do think it depends on our ability to nurture those other parts of ourselves. Sometimes that begins with basic hygiene, a healthy diet, exercise and socializing with other adults, all of which may be pushed aside in the early years of motherhood. Beyond that, we have to fight to protect a little time and energy to devote to the activities that make our lives fulfilling, outside of our children. And make no mistake, it is a fight.

“All this is to say, what should a woman fight for? Given her limited resources, limited time and energy and inspiration, what is worth fighting for? Is it art? In the grand scheme of things, it sometimes seems so pointless, even selfish. To force one’s point of view on the world- who really needs it, especially when a child needs a mother so immediately? I don’t have any answers other than that art seems essential, as essential as mothering. In order to be a self, it is essential. I should perhaps cease being a person without it. Is that enough of a reason, that it matters to me?” (Nightbitch: A Novel by Rachel Yoder)

It is under this immense pressure that Yoder’s character of mother undergoes her transformation, not into a diamond, but into a dog. And for the impact to be effective, the transformation had to be complete. The result is uncomfortable (in fact, this novel is classified in the horror genre). Mother grows hair in unexpected places. Her spine lengthens into a tail. She even grows two new sets of nipples. The physical transformation is intentionally grotesque, calling to mind the more bloody, sweaty, and dirty parts of motherhood.

After her transformation, the mother parents like a dog, including sharing raw meat and licking her son’s face clean. At the same time, the mother embraces a more intuitive and feral version of motherhood that is ultimately more playful, joyful, and effective. The mother is no longer playing the part of the “happy mother” but it’s through this transformation that she finds the most authentic version of herself, and a version that encompasses her creativity as well. Her relationship with her husband, child, and herself each experience a profound shift.

In the 1970s, anthropologist Dana Raphael coined the term “matresence” to describe the hormonal, physical, and emotional changes of becoming a mother. Reproductive psychiatrist Alexandra Saks popularized the term again in 2017 with her viral New York Times article “The Birth of a Mother.” Matresence alludes to "adolescence" because it is similarly a time of identity transformation. No one denies that the identity formation of our teenage years is challenging. The development of a mother’s identity can be challenging as well.

Similarly, we have come a long way in recognizing the importance of postpartum mental health, with increased awareness of postpartum depression and anxiety specifically. However, we still have a long way to go. There is very little understanding of other postpartum conditions, such as postpartum psychosis, OCD, and yes, the experience of maternal rage. The mental health of mothers across the lifespan, not just in those most vulnerable postpartum months, is still underacknowledged. We also tend to only speak about maternal mental illness as a product of the individual, instead of acknowledging environmental contributions.

I suppose one critique of the Nightbitch could be that it presents a dismal view of motherhood. I disagree. Motherhood is a beautiful, life-changing, and inspiring experience and I think that even the most rageful mother would agree.

But motherhood is also so much more. By distilling it down to only its most pleasant parts, we harm women and undermine how truly badass it is to be a mother. It’s the beauty and the rawness; the awe-inspiring and the drudgery; the joy and the grief. It's the combination of these experiences that make motherhood so rich. Acknowledging the more harrowing parts is not disparaging, it's an act of respect for the complexities of this job and by extension, the people who undertake it. And really, aren’t all the most amazing experiences like this? We do not expect an Instagram reel of beautiful photos to capture the grueling experience of climbing Mt. Everest.

Nightbitch fights for motherhood to be seen in all its feral glory. Excuse me while I go howl at the moon.

There is a lot being written about the film adaptation of Nightbitch, which I also enjoyed. But not surprisingly, I think the book was more powerful. I also think the ending of the novel is more satisfying.

Did you read Nightbitch or watch the movie? What did you think?

How did your sense of identity change as you transitioned into parenthood?

What parts were you prepared for? What parts were more unexpected?

What has helped you stay connected to the other valued parts of your identity in parenthood?

Do you have recommendations for other novels that have a unique take on motherhood? I would love to hear your recommendations.

Please drop your thoughts in the comments! And if you enjoyed this analysis, please share it. Every like, comment, and share helps my writing reach a broader audience. It is so appreciated.

Disclosure: Dr. Amber_Writes is a newsletter designed to be informational, entertaining, and engaging. It is not therapy. Following this newsletter does not establish a therapeutic relationship with me. Dr. Amber_Writes, and other written communication by Amber Groomes on Substack, is not a substitute for treatment, diagnosis, or consultation with a licensed mental health professional. I assume no liability for any action taken in reliance on my writing here at Dr. Amber_Writes.