But I don’t want children
The thought of putting these words out into the world terrifies me. It shouldn’t but it does.
This post has been sitting in my drafts for months. – partly because of how much I worry it will make me less likeable and partly because of how sensitive a subject it is for many. Yet if I was posting to tell you the opposite – that I was pregnant – I’d be looking at my most liked post ever because we never receive more likes than when we announce our marriage or children. To be clear, I can only write on behalf of myself.
Knowing deep down in my gut that I have no plans to have children can feel like a dirty secret I should keep hush hush. Not so long ago my safety would be in danger as a result of this choice. I’d have been shamed, disowned and joked about by the community I was part of. This is sadly still the case for many depending on where we live in the world. It’s no wonder my fingers are a little shaky on the keys as I’m typing this.
I don’t mind telling you we can’t have children, but also that it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t think the details are essential but when I say we can’t – I mean I’d have to pay for IVF or seek the adoption route to call myself a parent.
I was never the little girl who pushed dolls around and stuffed a pillow up her dress as to appear pregnant. My tiny tears got on my nerves and those girls that loved their baby dolls dearly made me feel like an outsider. I couldn’t relate to them. I’d rather be riding.
In her wonderful book This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, Ann Patchett says ‘other girls grew up dreaming of homes and children, true love and financial security. I envisioned shepherds and terriers, fields of happy bounding mutts’. I definitely grew up dreaming of homes, true love and fields of happy bounding mutts (don’t forget the horses) but like Ann, children were never part of my fantasy life either.
Things changed somewhere along the line and at 22 I found myself desperate for children. One or two I thought, maybe even three. I’d just got married and it felt like it should be the next thing on the agenda. Who’s agenda I’m still not sure. The most annoying thing about getting married is everyone starts asking you when you’re going to have kids. Nobody ever thinks to ask if you even want any. My friends were having children and it seemed exciting. I was lost and I’d forgotten all about that little girl who didn’t need children to validate her dream life.
To cut a long story short, it didn’t work out for us and it didn’t take long for me to realise I didn’t want to pursue the alternatives. I didn’t want it badly enough. I didn’t want it at all. I blurted it out one night and J told me how he was thrilled and had been feeling exactly the same way. He already has two children and really didn’t want any more. Eight years later we’re still happy with our choice, but it could have all been so different if we’d carried on down that should do path.
I know I’m not the only one who secretly believes many women would return their children if they had the choice. If they could quietly turn back the clock and nobody would feel any pain in the process. I’d never expect any of them to say it out loud, but I feel confident I’ve seen it in their eyes and I’ve felt it on the tip of their tongue.
Of course I worry about growing old alone. This fear has been engrained into women since the dawn of time – I think I’d be a robot if I didn’t worry about the thought of being an old spinster. But I also worry about having a family I don’t want, children who make me miserable and through no fault of there own take my life in a direction I don’t want it to go. My gut feelings aside, on paper it makes no sense to have them either. I can’t live my life for a future I have no control over. All I can do is what feels right for me right now.
I’ve observed women with children closely – not in a creepy way – just in an interested objective kind of way and in all honestly I don’t see much joy in it. There seems to be a lot of moaning and complaining, a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of running around like a headless chicken for someone who doesn’t appreciate it. I don’t get the point. They clearly do because they go on to have more – and I’m thrilled for them if it makes them happy but none of what I see makes me think I’d enjoy it.
I’m not good with children myself, never have been. Pass me a puppy and you won’t hear from me for hours. Pass me a child and you’ll see me at my most awkward. It took years, but I’ve finally built up the confidence to say no when the dreaded ‘do you want a hold?’ question presents itself. It’s not personal, I just don’t want to hold your baby.
When it comes to the why I don’t want children, it isn’t as clear cut as I don’t want them because I want to spend all my money on myself and have lots of nice holidays – although of course that’s partly to do with it. I haven’t exactly figured out the why yet, I just know how I feel about it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a ‘normal’ family when I was growing up and my own father skipped out before I could muster a memory of him. I spent most of my childhood feeling threatened by other children at the thought they might steal my mum’s attention. Maybe motherhood just isn’t for me. Do we even have to have a reason?
I’m thrilled for women who have children and love them and are happy, but being pushed into having them is not ok and it has to stop. No more ‘you’re running out of time’ no more ‘but what about when you’re old and alone’ and no more ‘but children are what it’s all for’. There are a million and one ways to live our lives and without children is of course one of them. It doesn’t make us any less worthy. And we shouldn’t have to feel guilty for not having them either. So many times I’ve been made to feel guilty for my 9 hours sleep, long haul holidays and freedom to spend an entire afternoon watching Poirot if I fancy – and quite honestly I’m sick of it. I deeply sympathise with women facing all the struggles that come with being a mum, but it’s not fair to direct that frustration at childfree (note the use of childfree as opposed to child-less) women. We haven’t won the lottery, we still have struggles too.
The other issue I have is how celebrated women are for having children and I believe this is partly why so many of us sway towards having them when deep down it isn’t what we want. I’d love to know the statistics of how many women consciously or subconsciously have them for love and attention – I know I was about to. I cannot speak for other women but I’m guessing I’m not alone. Children aren’t for all of us and that should be ok. No judgement. No threat. No need to figure out what’s wrong with us. We simply don’t want a baby and all is OK.
Maybe I will regret not having children in the future, I’m not naive about this. Then all those who told me I’d change my mind or that I was making a mistake can point and tell me they told me so. I know I may well change my mind and it could be too late. But that’s not a good enough reason to have them. Listening to myself, my gut right now in the moment is a good enough compass for me. It’s all I’ve got to keep me sane and true to myself.
The saddest part of my situation, and one I’m determined to tackle, is that I can sometimes feel ashamed. I feel less of a woman, less worthy and of less value for making this choice. Even now, typing this I feel like somehow this article will make me less likeable in your eyes. An outcast. A weirdo. This shouldn’t be the case, it’s wrong, but that’s what society and cultural norms have created. Less caring, less empathetic, less understandable and relatable.
I’m not of the opinion that we should all stop having children, and I would never tell anyone what to do but I do feel the need to voice my own truth on the matter despite it being the minority. Especially because it’s the minority. I guess the point of this piece is to let anyone else feeling the same things I feel that they’re not alone. I’m with you.
