Months ago, I vehemently argued in favor of posting one’s photos of one’s children on Facebook when a childless friend postulated a question about it. Shouldn’t your FB page be about you, she asked, and not about your children? Though her question was not hostile, my answer definitely was—though I certainly didn't mean to be--and now I’m left analyzing why that was.

For people who don’t have kids, it may be easy to judge those who do. “Keep those kids quiet,” they mumble. “Stop with the baby talk and kisses. Don’t sing songs in public. Can’t you talk about something other than your kids?” While I’d love to say I empathize, I kind of don’t even want to in this case. Children are people, too; in fact, everyone was one at some point. I get it if you don’t want to hear me sing “BINGO” to my kid at a fancy restaurant, but if we’re in line at Panera Bread and it’s the only thing keeping her from throwing a tantrum and throwing your latte off the table, perhaps you should be thanking me instead. And it’s not that much fun listening to yap about your hipster issues and lame problems—“Oh, I went to the theme park and it rained!” while I fume at least you got to go!—or listen to your crappy pop music you’ve got blaring in your car or on your iPod, either.

But I digress. The point is, when we’re parents—especially parents of small children—that is our identity. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, but it’s what happens. When you have that little life dependent on you full time, every day and night for all of his or her needs, it’s not that surprising, is it? Many of us would love to maintain some of our own identity, but the reality is that we lose—or at least misplace—a lot of ourselves when we become parents.

Many of us have no other contact aside from that with our children throughout much, if not all, of the day; it’s a wonder we can even manage a complete adult conversation with you, let alone avoid talking about our children. (And if you don’t want to hear about my kids, why should I give a damn about your dog and her thousand-dollar vet bill for eating some crap you should have kept out of reach, anyway?) So maybe a little bit of leeway and understanding should be given here. And if you really want your “old” friend back—though that will probably never happen in its entirety—you may want to offer to free up some of her time for a nap or a day out with some babysitting services so she can do some of her old hobbies and remember what part of herself she may have misplaced. After all, we’d like a bit of that back, too.