When women without children share our stories, we often kick off with something like, “But I absolutely adore kids! I promise I’m not a terrible person!” I’m no exception—children are my jam. Whether they’re squishy newborns, energetic toddlers, curious school-aged kids, or moody teenagers, I find them all delightful. While I don’t feel sorrow over my lack of biological children, it’s disheartening that women like me often find ourselves on the defensive about our choices—often before the conversation even starts.
We know the routine: when we reveal our child-free status, someone inevitably labels us as selfish. I remember the first time it happened; I was in my early 30s, and a male friend—who was knee-deep in parenting—was quick to declare that I was being selfish for not wanting kids. It left me stunned and marked the beginning of the end for a two-decade friendship.
Why the Defensiveness?
The defensiveness some child-free women feel often stems from the underlying message behind these comments: that we aren’t feminine enough or that we lack the necessary maternal instincts. It’s like saying we’re not real women. What’s frequently overlooked in these discussions is the unselfishness we can exhibit outside of parenting—caring for friends, volunteering, supporting aging relatives, and nurturing our communities. With no kids of my own, I have the freedom to engage in activism and community service. If we’re tallying societal contributions, I think I’m doing pretty well!
When someone calls a child-free woman selfish, it’s a belittling simplification, implying that we have just one purpose in life, and we’re failing to meet it. How dare we enjoy sex for fun? Even some progressive men, including Pope Francis, have suggested that women without children are selfish.
The Best Thing That Happened to You—But Not to Me
Then there are the well-meaning friends with kids who look at me with pity, insisting that I should give motherhood a shot because it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them. I believe them, but guess what? It’s not my best thing. I have my own bests. I can’t help but think that some of this stems from a projection of their own unfulfilled dreams.
Despite what some may think, I’m not living a wild life out every night. My evenings are often spent at home binge-watching Netflix after a long day at work, just like everyone else. Yet, some friends with children seem to want me to join their club, perhaps driven by a tinge of jealousy over my imagined party lifestyle—or maybe they just want me to experience the sleepless nights and chaos of parenting to truly understand their struggles.
I Might Still Become a Parent, Just Not in the Traditional Way
To clarify, I hold a unique perspective on being child-free. I’m open to adopting in the future if circumstances allow, and I’ve considered being a stepmom. I decided against biological motherhood about ten years ago, primarily due to concerns over climate change and overpopulation. I’m fully capable of loving and nurturing children, even if they’re not my biological offspring. Adoption would be a clear choice for me if it were feasible. Honestly, I’d even consider fostering if my living situation were different.
But if motherhood doesn’t happen for me, I won’t be heartbroken. I genuinely feel at peace with either outcome. I don’t lie awake at night fretting over my aging ovaries or missed opportunities. My life is fulfilling and whole.
If I do become a mother someday, I hope to maintain my identity as a woman, a writer, and a human being. Motherhood is often glorified in our culture, and while mothers deserve all the accolades for their hard work, it’s crucial to remember they are multifaceted individuals, not just “mommy.”
When I first penned my thoughts about being child-free, it sparked an unexpected backlash. My piece titled “My Uterus Is Closed For Business and I Have No Regrets” racked up nearly 500 comments, many from trolls calling me selfish. Yet, it also garnered nearly 6,000 likes on Facebook, indicating that it resonated with many child-free women seeking a new narrative.
Years later, it’s evident that we still need to shift the conversation around the child-free experience. This begins with how parents are raising their daughters today. Not every girl will grow up to be a mother, so let’s open up the dialogue about being child-free as a valid and fulfilling option.
Creating space for child-free individuals requires some introspection and reflection on personal choices made and not made. This should begin early, in our teens and 20s. But even as we navigate our 30s and 40s—whether we’re up all night dancing or nursing—we need to respect one another’s paths.
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Summary
Women without children often find themselves unfairly labeled as selfish, despite their deep love for children and their many contributions to society. The pressure to conform to traditional motherhood can be overwhelming, but many child-free women lead fulfilling lives full of activism, friendships, and personal passions. The conversation around child-free choices needs to evolve, encouraging acceptance and understanding that not all women will become mothers, and that’s perfectly okay.