Childfree: A Valid Choice

There are many people that are against our choice to not have children.  They say we are selfish, we’ll regret not having children someday because there will be no one there to take care of you and that we must hate children. 

Number one:  People that don’t have children are selfish.

Maybe.  I am selfish with my time.  I like to be able to get up when I want to and go to bed after reading late into the night.  But selfish is a strong word. Set in my ways may be a better thing to say, or that I know what I want.  I could say that people who have children are selfish.  The fact that they want little versions of themselves to make them feel better and create someone to love seems to be egocentric.  I know that this is breaking things down into its base ideas, but selfishness goes both ways.

Number two:  Who will take care of you when you’re old?

Anyone who has children to take care of them when they are old is in for a rude awakening.  No matter how you raise your children, they will be living their own lives by the time you need to be cared for.  You won’t be the focus of their lives.  Besides, would you want to be a burden to your child?  I’ll be the one in the bed next to you in the nursing home.

Number three:  You must hate children.

I do not hate children.  I have many lovely children in my life.  I just don’t want to be in charge of them.  I want to be the Auntie that gives money and candy and then leaves when they get hyper from the sugar or fight with their parents over whether the money should be saved or spent.  Children won’t make it any better, not necessarily worse, but definitely different.

If you wait for the perfect time to have one, you never will, well meaning friends have told us.  And it looks like they are right.  We waited until we both graduated college, had enough money and a house, and it still never seemed like the right time.  We even bought a house larger than we needed thinking that someday, children would come into our lives.

“You’re smart not to have kids,” my friend said years later, the noise behind her deafening.  She yelled at her now two children to be quiet, but they only got louder in response.  “Sometimes I don’t even like my own kids,” she admitted.

“Sometimes I don’t like your kids either.”