Us humans tend to praise motherhood. Even on this site, my fellow-blogger Sarah Buttenweiser writes a mommy-centric blog, complete with personal essays about the trials and tribulations modern mothers in the modern world face from breastfeeding to playground ettiquite. And indeed, there is nothing wrong with revelling in one's experienes as a mother. As a woman who is proud of her gender and finds it an endless source of not only inspiration, but entertainment, I think it is normal to look into oneself to understand a group of others like you. But who are those others? Are they other mothers? Or other women?

There's a tendency for some who may fall into the Feminist persuasion to poo-poo anything that makes light of women or women's issues. There is a tendency to write about women, and especially mother's, with this etherial worship-speak that utilizes words like "glowing" or "phenomenal" or "nurturing," instead of "sweaty" or "bloated" or "selfish."

Scratch that last part. There are a sect of women that other women feel comfortable calling "selfish." In yesterday's Daily Mail, one British woman in her late forties explains how she has fallen victim to this accusation, often from other women who are close to her.

Laura Scott, 47, recounts an evening in a friend's kitchen with a couple of other women. The others are mothers. She is not. Their conversations turn to their weekend plans.

I was looking forward to playing a few rounds of golf while my husband, Robert, a vintage car enthusiast, was zipping off to a rally.

In the evening, we’d be dining out at our favourite Italian restaurant. Innocent enough pleasures, you’d have thought.

But I might as well have confessed I was planning a shoplifting spree.

‘It’s all very well for you, doing what you want,’ my friend Marie snapped. ‘You’re just so selfish.’

I was stunned. I’ve known Marie, a mother of three, for years. I thought we were friends. What was my crime?

Suddenly, I realised I’d done the unforgivable. I’d dared to admit I lead a full, happy and satisfying life — and all because I don’t have children.

Isn't it just as self indulgent to take on the glowy, phenomenal, nurturing "mother earth" persona? I don't know, I'm just asking. I'm still thinking about having children. But I have felt a little bit of pressure from some that I'm not qualified to write about women (even though I am one) because I have neither been pregnant nor do I have a child. Certainly Scott is qualified to write about women, or at least her own experiences as a woman. She is 47 after all.

And If you want some examples of the kind of judgements she's talking about, just look in the comments:

Secondly, women who have children tend to be warmer individuals than women who do not. I know several dried-up older women who are childless and they have a frigid, insensitive side to them. Note how her comments have brought out the child-haters to support her…scary but vindicates my point though.

Thirdly, if we get more people like this woman deciding not to procreate that means there will be more resources available for those of us who do. I suppose you do understand the next generation of geriatric care-workers have to come from somewhere…? – Merry, belfast

There are some comments in support of Scott by people who have made similar decisions and parents alike. The most touching recounts a mother who lost her son and can only find solace on the shoulders of child-free friends, because those with children do nothing but recount the things their children did that day–effectively pouring salt in this woman's womb wound. And many other's spoke along this vein, often flat out saying that people with children are selfish:

There were 3 Billion people on the planet when I was born in 1970, it have double to 6 Billion by 2000 and is now approaching 8 Billion. Choosing not to have children in this massively over populated world is the exact polar opposite of selfishness. I think people should be given tax bonuses for NOT having children. – Jim, Belfast, Northern Ireland