No, I don’t want children. Yes, I am sure about this choice.

I am a woman that doesn’t want children and it’s time for you to start respecting that choice.

by: E.B. Johnson

A short disclaimer: This article is about the conscious decision not to have children, or a conscious decision to remain childfree. It is not a commentary on being childless — a different concept entirely.

Being a woman that makes the conscious decision not to reproduce is a difficult thing. Not only is it a choice that can alienate you in the dating pool, it’s one that can also alienate you from your closest friends and family. Having a child is one of the biggest responsibilities you can take on, but (for some reason) admitting that you don’t want or can’t handle that responsibility is met often with hatred, criticism and disdain.

I made the commitment to be childfree more than twenty years ago and it’s a choice that has dramatically enhanced my life for the better. It’s a choice that has come with a world of pain, loss and heartbreak, however, and one that has taken me a lifetime to learn how to navigate.

Making the choice.

Women make the choice not to have children for a number of reasons. Some choose not to have children because they prefer to focus on their careers or other passions that make them feel fulfilled. Others choose not to have children because of their own childhood traumas or hang-up’s.

It gets personal.

I made the choice after seeing — first hand — what happens when unwanted children are brought into the world by parents who don’t love or truly care for one another. A child of adoption I grew up knowing what it meant to be unwanted, but I also grew up in an abusive environment where I witnessed more unwanted children being brought into environments that were unwilling and unable to care for them.

My choice was made young, because I knew I never wanted to perpetuate the darkness that ran through my family line.

I knew, from my experiences, that I had been raised into mental illness and that the same mental illness would forever prevent me from giving myself fully to a child (just as it had prevented my mother from giving herself fully to me).

I made my choice because I didn’t want the hassle and the heartache, but I mostly knew I had not been equipped with the tools needed to raise a child. Raising another human being is a full-time and thankless task. My choice not to embark on this journey came from a selfless place, but that didn’t seem to matter when the judgements of others came knocking.

It’s important to note here: Whatever reason a woman chooses not to have children, the choice is just as valid as a woman who chooses to carry on with a pregnancy. There’s little difference, save for the seeming taboo that has been placed around the decision not to bear children.

What happens when you make the choice.

Women who make the choice not to have children are vilified from every take and from every angle. For some reason, no matter how progressive our society becomes, it still seems unable to accept the fact that some women do not have the desire to reproduce.

Breeding is the one thing that women are absolutely not allowed to willfully walk away from, and when we are do we are shunned by those who “play by the rules”. Though we have made massive strides in the acceptance and inclusion of things like LGBTQ+ rights (as we should) — when it comes to having children or building families, most seem to have their views planted firmly in the 1950’s.

The blowback.

I’ve been belittled, threatened and abandoned by the people I love most because of my choice. When I speak publicly about the fact that I never want children, it is often met with criticism or a cold-shoulder that speaks volumes more than confrontation ever could.

My best friends have stopped talking to me because I chose not to have children and they did. Somehow, they saw my decision and my passion about being vocal on the subject as a personal affront.

I’ve been sent death threats and hate mail; I’ve been told that I need to be tied to a bed, raped and forced to have children against my will.

I’ve been told I’m a slut; I’ve been told I’m a lesbian (still not sure why that’s an insult). I’ve had men and women I don’t even know attempt to call my employers and tell them I’m a sexual deviant in order to get me fired. I’ve been told that I should be murdered in the street and brutally put down for not “honoring my husband with body”.

I’ve been told every horrible thing you could imagine because of my choice, including the classic: If you don’t have a child, you aren’t a real woman (begging the question, then, what these people think of women who are naturally unable to bear children, but I digress…)

Making the choice is scary, but sticking by that choice in a world that bullies you is far more difficult. Once I made the choice, I realized it wasn’t making the choice that was hard — it was living with the reactions of other people to that choice.

Why society hates women that choose not to have children.

You’d think that people would respect the women who choose not to have children, but they don’t. The world over, women who make the choice not to have children are shunned and looked down on — even by their closest friends and relatives.

There are a lot of reasons society struggles to accept the childfree woman. A female who refuses to “play house” is one who bucks tradition. When a woman refuses to have children, she is refusing to adhere and that’s both alien and threatening to those who like to stay in line. The childfree woman enjoys a different (not better, just different) status in life and, often, this status can lead to a power shift between that woman and her environment.

Women without children enjoy additional and prolonged employment opportunities and freedom to pursue their passions and hobbies in ways that many mothers are unable to. To some, not only is this threatening — it’s envy-inducing and perceived as a personal affront. The woman who has no children is often seen as a threat to those that do, and these attitudes that can become toxic and corrosive in surprising and heartbreaking ways.

There’s no gender limit when it comes to our disgust toward people who choose the childfree life.

According to a study published in Sex Roles, more than three decades of cited research culminated in the revelation that those who are intentionally childfree are viewed as flawed and purposeless individuals devoid of true joy.

The idea of having children is such powerful, strongly held norm that we are conditioned to believe in from birth. When people choose to opt out of this sacred social-code, it is scary and simultaneously insulting to many around them. Choosing not to have kids is a guarantee of receiving backlash and a tidal wave of moral outrage that sets out to make you look joyless.

For those who have and love their children, it is impossible to imagine that everyone doesn’t want them. For those who regret having children (and, yes, they do exist) it is impossible to tolerate the constant reminder of what might have been. Women who choose not to take part in what society has (blindly) decided to laud as the most sacred feminine right, forever exist in a strange in-between in which they are viewed simultaneously as an outsider and a fascinating attraction to be horrified and enraged by.

We are lightening rods for the disgruntlement of those around us who refuse to question themselves or the rules that are set out for them by society. It’s a hard road, but somebody’s got to take it. I just know the choice is right for me and my reasoning is solid as well.

Why I know the childfree choice is right for me (and why you should stop questioning that decision).

I have known I would not be a mother since I was eight years old. I’m thirty years old now and still get questioned about this decision on an almost daily basis. It doesn’t matter what I say or what solid reasons I offer, no one takes me seriously when I tell them, “I don’t want children. Never have; never will.”

There are a number of reasons that being childfree was the right choice and they range from completely selfish to completely selfless and every single one of them is justifiable — because I have a right to choose what I do and what I do it, and that’s enough.

I have no desire to sacrifice the things I want for someone else.

I had a weird childhood. Though on the outside it looked very privileged and middle class, internally it was a hell-scape of emotional abuse and dismissal. I spent the most crucial and formative years of my life stifling who I was and sacrificing what I wanted on the altar of other people’s perspectives and desires. Why would I now — when I’m stronger and more capable than ever — choose to limit myself (once again) for another person who does not love or appreciate me?

I enjoy nice things and I want nice things in my life. I’ve spent decades of my life running scared from one paycheck and now is the time to enjoy the stability I’ve worked so hard to cultivate.

To me, a child takes away the option of a lifestyle filled with exploratory fulfillment and that’s not something I’m willing to give up. It might sound selfish to say — I want to enjoy my own life on my own terms, but I do and I shouldn’t have to make apologies for that. After all, do we ask jet-setting, eternal playboys to apologize for their lifestyles? Of course not.

I have no desire to contribute to the overpopulation of the planet.

Whether we like it or not, the fact of the matter is that there’s too many humans on this planet. Thanks to advanced medical care and available resources, we’re living longer than ever and there are more of us on Earth than ever before. This overpopulation is destined to lead us to some horrible places — and fast — and I have no desire to be a part of that problem (after all, I have enough problems to be getting on with.)

People are destroying this planet and it’s not happening so much from malicious intent as it from sheer overpopulation.

In the U.S. alone, the population is expected to double in the next 100 years — and that includes their towering maternal mortality rates. Thanks to our population boom, the planet is looking at a catastrophic shortage of fresh water, the extinction of thousands of species and the complete depletion of critical natural resources.

Already, billions of people around the globe are dealing with these disastrous consequences and it’s only a sneak peek of what’s to come if we don’t get a handle on popping out kiddos. According to the World Health Organization, more than 3.7 billion people worldwide are currently suffering from malnutrition caused by food shortages and draught. Every 3 seconds, a child dies of an infectious disease and it is estimated that — every single year — 1.5million people die from tuberculosis, a disease which is exasperated by overcrowded living conditions, pollution, malnutrition and inadequate or non-existent healthcare.

Small though my contribution might be, I have no desire to contribute to this already heinous problem. I am not so narcissistic as to believe that there is something so sacred in my blood that it is worth putting my own selfish desires over the needs of the planet and the people living millions of miles away.

There is nothing so special about me, my skills or anything that I have to offer that it is worth putting one more person on this planet to take bread out of the mouth of a child who is already suffering thousands of miles away. I recognize that my humanity is just that — humanity. It is not a reflection of god and it is not some kind of omnipotence. What could my children offer that one of the already existent 8 billion people on this planet can’t offer? Nothing. And that’s a brutal honesty that most people can’t ever quite swallow.

I have no desire to pass-on my illnesses and hang-up’s.

I was raised by people that were emotionally wrecked. As such, it’s led to me being an emotionally wrecked person who struggles every day just to look at herself in the mirror.

One of the reasons I chose never to have children was because I knew — from the time that I was small — that I never wanted to pass on the darkness that ran in my family. From violent manic depressives to the emotionally detached and deranged, even though I was an adopted child I knew at a young age that our family didn’t operate like a normal one and that no child could ever come out of our clan “happy” or “well adjusted”.

Emotional and mental issues aside, I myself struggle with Stage IV Endometriosis. Endometriosis is a debilitating disease in which the endometrial tissue grows outside of the uterus. The disease’s symptoms mostly revolve around pain, pain and more pain, with a number of other startling symptoms like anal bleeding, chest pain and severe depression.

It took me 10 years to get a diagnosis and it’s one that has dramatically changed my life. The worst part of endometriosis, though, is that there’s no cure. Better yet, it’s genetically linked with women suffering in families generation after generation.

Once I received my diagnosis it reaffirmed by desire to never — under any circumstances — pass my genes down to another generation. Endometriosis ripped my life apart and left me scared, broken and living a life that was little more than a shut-in blur of pain and blood. Why would I ever want to pass that curse on to another generation, another woman? To me, it was self-centered. I didn’t need anyone enough to curse them that way. I wouldn’t wish endometriosis on my worst enemy. So why would I wish it on a child?

As an adopted child, I cannot justify bringing any more life onto this planet.

It won’t shock anyone to learn that there are literally millions of children around the world who already exist and want nothing more than loving homes and loving families. How could I — a child who was lucky enough to be adopted, rather than abandoned (as planned) — possibly justify bringing another child onto this planet when I knew first hand what it mean to be a child that was tossed aside or unwanted.

Reading stories of the women who spend hundreds-of-thousands of dollars in order to have children makes me physically sick.

Each time I pass one of those headlines, I see the sad, broken faces of the children that already exist. The children (that I know) that were left behind and abandoned by the parents that did not want them. I see myself and the life I narrowly escaped, abandoned with a family living poverty-stricken and off the grid.What is wrong with the children in the world who already need families? Are they not good enough to be loved? To be wanted by a family that didn’t birth them, but that has the room in their hearts for them?

To me, it is always a lie when a pregnant couple talks about “how badly they’ve always wanted children”. If all they ever wanted was children, why not adopt? Would it not be more accurate to say, “I’ve always wanted to see what kind of child I could make? I think I could make one better than my parents did.” Because ultimately, that’s what it appears most modern parenting amounts to.

Important note: I was the child of a domestic adoption and it did not cost my parents $20,000 and their kidneys. Do not respond to this article with your feigned adoption knowledge (aka mythologies) until you have fully researched the wide array of adoption options in the United States.

Putting it all together…

It’s 2019 and yet I still have to find myself battling uphill as a woman who doesn’t want children. Just because I don’t want children doesn’t mean that I’m self-centered. It doesn’t mean that I’m never growing up, and it sure-as-hell doesn’t mean I don’t know what responsibility is.

As an adopted child, I have no desire to self-centeredly bring more life onto this planet. As a member of this planet and this society, I have no desire to contribute to the overpopulation crisis that’s already beginning to manifest in global warming and catastrophic food and water shortages. Some people might be able to look past those things. I can’t. The childfree lifestyle is the only lifestyle for me and I become more thankful for it each and every day.

So stop asking me when I’m going to have children, and stop telling me that I’ll change my mind. There’s nothing wrong with me or the decision that I’ve made and it’s time for you to start respecting it — point blank. The time of women’s choices being dictated by society and pseudo-christianity are over and it starts with me. The childfree life is the life for me and I don’t need anyone else’s approval to know that in my heart-of-hearts.