I’ve had enough. I need to set the damn record straight. As a 28-year-old woman approaching thirty at full speed AND lives with her boyfriend, I get this question more times than I’d like to admit. So much so, it feels like a broken record. But, I should have expected this. I mean, come on. I have been living with my boyfriend for almost two years. Although it’s nobody’s damn business–I’m here to explain why I’m NEVER going to have children. Ever.
You’ve clicked on the link and now you’re curious. But by being here, I hope you can respect what I have to say. You don’t have to like it. I’m not even forcing you to. But step into my shoes for a second. View things from a holistic perspective. (I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Really.) My decision to remain ‘childless‘ is mine to make and has been based on many factors.
During my adolescence, I was the target of bullying which is sadly becoming very common. When someone mentions that they’ve been bullied or are being bullied, we give an apologetic response and we go on with our merry way. That. Is. Terrifying. And it doesn’t stop when you’re in elementary school either especially if you and your fellow classmates all go to the same schools. (Or at least that’s what happened to me.) I don’t want my child(ren) to experience that kind of hell. It’s easier knowing that they will never have to know any kind of loneliness or someone else being a jerk to them. If I were to have a kid they would be different and weird. And based on the fact that the statistics of bullying are increasing, my kid will most likely get picked on. Shitty kids were put on this earth to make other’s lives a living hell. And in the sea of those who are just trying to embrace who they are, it becomes even more of a struggle when it shouldn’t have to be.
I feel like I’m the only one with this particular type of phobia (and I’m hoping to meet people who agree with me). But the overall concept of pregnancy TERRIFIES me. And I’m not exaggerating when I say this. The thought of being pregnant has legitimately given me nightmares. Horrible, sweaty, gruesome nightmares. I watch horror movies and I love the sight of gore. But the very thought of a child GROWING inside of me is absolutely nauseating. And I’m sorry (well, not really) if that offends you as a parent or whatever, but the thought of growing an actual HUMAN BEING inside of me is just on a whole new level of terror.
And let’s not forget the whole ‘going into labor’ part either. That baby has to come out somehow! You’re meaning to tell me that I have to push something out the size of a watermelon out the size of a garden hose? Fuck. All. Of. That. When I’ve explained that this concept is terrifying I was met with this reply;
“You could do a C-Section.”
Yeah sure. The thought of some doctor ripping me open seems a whole lot better. A doctor splitting me open is equally scary. And probably just as painful. Either way, you are going to be in some sort of unimaginable pain. I even explained to my own mother that I didn’t want to go through the horrifying process of pushing a little human out of my fun hole. She said to me that it was a cakewalk…
You’re meaning to tell me that pushing out a tiny human like that while sweating in pain for hours was a cake walk for you? This is probably the biggest lie she’s ever fed me. There’s no way in hell something like that is a cake walk. You’re just saying that in hopes of getting some more grandkids. (You greedy grandma.) Hard. Pass. No thanks. I’d rather not to go through any of that tearing… (and yes, women do tear down there and nothing is the same afterward. Fun fact.)
The heart of the matter is–I’m selfish. And I’m not afraid to admit that. Nor will I apologize for it. I love being able to plan a trip without coordinating a babysitter. I don’t have to worry about scrounging up money to send my kid off to college. And I love going to sleep at night knowing that I only have myself to worry about. I sleep easier at night having that piece of mind. I breathe easier. I’m living a pretty peaceful life without feeling trapped within the confines of tiny children. There’s this relentless freedom that comes with not having children and it’s intoxicating.
Having kids is kinda like gambling. Picture this: you’ve just booked your trip to Las Vegas. Feeling lucky, you step into the casino and place allllll of your life savings on the blackjack table. You take a chance and you hope for the best…
Having a kid is the same damn thing.
It’s one giant gamble! You are risking all your money, your emotions, your marriage (for the most part) your future, your hopes, your dreams–the list goes on and on. Plus the city of Las Vegas also coined the term ‘the city that never sleeps’ which also coincides with that of having children…
Sleep will not exist. I’m not willing to give up sleep.
I hate gambling. I get so pissed whenever I lose money over some stupid penny slot. (Hence why I stick to drinking hard liquor and people watching.) I’ve never been one to visit Las Vegas or any type of casino for that matter and take a chance at winning some “big money.” I’m a creature of habit that thrives on the sole purpose on sticking to what I know. And what I do know is that I hate taking huge risks unless I know the payout. Having children is just one big roll of the dice.
I never have to deal with that awful conversation again. It’s a mutual agreement. And I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing that feels.
After surfing the web, I came across several articles regarding this issue. Some were titled with ‘9 Reasons Why Not Having Kids Was the Best Life Choice I’ve Ever Made’, another was ‘Lets Stop Giving Shit to Women Who Don’t Want Kids’ which made me grin from ear to ear. There’s people out there who agree! Who knew! But then I came across a certain article titled; ‘I Think People Without Kids Have Empty Life’s and I’m Not Sorry About It.’
I’m sorry. What did you say?
I read the article and stopped halfway because it made my brain hurt. It went on to say that I was missing out on this “incredible” thing and that I wouldn’t know what it means to love or truly commit to someone. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. And to be honest–it upset me. A lot. I don’t need to have children in order to discover that. I’m committed into developing who I am while in pursuit of self-love.
My path to self discovery is rewarding. Everyday is exciting and full of my own challenges. I don’t need to have kids to define that. In fact, I don’t think anyone does. Thinking that it’s tragic when people decide not to have children because they are missing out on this ‘tragically indescribable perspective’ is wrong. Shame on you. Let me live my life. Let me love in my own way.
Let’s be real–there’s no checklist to living a more fulfilling life. And there isn’t a guidebook to help you figure out why it isn’t being fulfilled. You choose your own path. You decide what is fulfilling for you. I’m leading a fulfilling life because I’m secure with where I am in my life. And having children isn’t going to fill any sort of gap you think I may have. Sorry, not sorry. I’m eager to take on new things, start up new adventures and most importantly–not have children.
Changing gears a bit–I have a few friends who have conquered the difficult task that is motherhood. I can’t imagine for one second what it must be like. Constantly on the clock at all hours of the day sometimes without rest. Their feet swelling and their energy drained as they push on through for their little ones. My friends are such glorious-selfless-indestructible-positive powerhouses.
They are doing it. They are doing what I was unable to do, what I refuse to do. They are mothers. They are shaping the future.
And I couldn’t be more proud. Really. They took the biggest gamble and they are winning in spades. Breaking barriers and being absolute badasses. They have dedicated their life to their tiny humans. Committed to giving them all the love they deserve. I love them fiercely beyond words.
If you’re choosing not to have children, remember that it is your choice. No one else can influence you. It’s a huge risk, an insane gamble and a whole new adventure. Do what feels right. Follow the path you’re blazing whether it’s motherhood or not.