I happen to agree that people who don’t want children should not have them. I’m delighted to wish you well on whatever road you take, but I do find myself stopping mid hand-wave and asking this question: Really?
How can you be so sure? I think having kids is one of those things you should probably never say never about.
I love using the bathroom in private. There, I said it. I took peeing in private for granted until I began pet-sitting during my 20s. Cats and dogs missing their owners would follow me into the bathroom. Then there was nephew #1 who, at age three, followed me into the bathroom telling me he wanted to watch me pee. My resounding “No!” sent him fleeing to the hall closet, upset. I felt so bad. I gently explained to him that auntie wants her privacy when she pees. He ignored me for a good hour after that but eventually forgave me. Now, that nephew is 14 and mortified when I tease him about this story.
To some, the childfree lifestyle looks empty and meaningless. Cars, cash, trips, sleep.
“I wouldn’t trade my child for any of these things.” “If only I had kids instead of being regretfully childless in my 40s.” These are sentiments echoed in articles and comments shared across social media in attempts to warn those of us who remain kid-free. The issue I have with these types of statements is that the approach is from a superficial standpoint.
Last November I bought one of those DNA kits that have been around for a few years, now. Like most people who spit in a small plastic tube and mail it for analysis, I wanted to learn more about my DNA ancestry composition. As a latinx woman, I was certain I would find a combination of European, Native American, and African DNA in my blood.
And that was the case. But the results got me thinking.