Ever since I turned twenty-five, the top three conversations of my life have been: 1) career ups and downs, 2) figuring out who has Lactaid, and 3) when am I going to be a mother, which has probably moved into the top spot since my boyfriend and I started dating. Sigh. I understand parenthood is one of the biggest choices anyone will ever make, so it being a recurring theme is not unsurprising; however, it’s one of my least favorite topics of discussion. Look, if it’s with a good friend or loved one, I don’t mind going deep, but with the average layperson, I just feel judgment emanating from them and end up feeling not that great about myself, unnecessarily stressed, and that I should’ve just kept my Black ass at home. Like, Howard Hughes, I know you became agoraphobic because of a near-fatal plane crash, but have you ever been at a house party and dealt with a nosy-ass heaux whose idea of small talk is interrogating you for not having kids and is practically on standby, speculum in hand, to look up your coochie and around your lady walls while you’re just trying to get the last spanakopita? It ain’t fun, Howie!! Aaaaaaaaand that’s why I don’t wanna go out no more where I have to interact with random or judgy people about anything real in my life. If it ain’t about what I did over the weekend or who makes my wigs or what I’ve been watching on Hulu and Netflix, I ain’t talking about shit with you! Okay, that’s a tad extreme, but can you blame me? There is no winning for a woman if she is on the receiving end of this question.
If she’s single, folks behave the way I do after I put concert tickets in my Ticketmaster cart and a countdown clock appears on my screen. I get flustered and yell, “It’s impossible for me to enter my sixteen-digit credit card number in the allotted amount of time!” Seriously, the unjustified hysteria is real and it doesn’t matter how young or old the woman is, if she’s not already with child, she’s made to feel as though all is almost lost. “You know what you should try,” they say, which is followed by suggestions to get her eggs counted or to dive into the $10,000, three-week process of freezing her eggs. Listen, heifer, are you about to offer this woman zero-money-down financing like she’s trying to lease a Tacoma during Toyotathon? If not, don’t come up in here with a “You know what you should try” as though proposing someone embark on a $10K procedure (that’s not guaranteed to work, by the way) as casually as recommending trying out a new tapas restaurant or switching bodywashes.
Now, if the woman is in a relationship but not married, people want her to get engaged, then married, and quickly get down to the business of becoming pregnant. Ummmmmm, on Shark Tank, Mark Cuban is always cussing someone out for scaling their business too fast because they had six months of decent sales, but as soon as a couple is legally monogs and the woman has Gene Kelly’s umbrella from Singin’ in the Rain aka an IUD installed in her uterus, everyone wants her to immediately scale up and start raising children, which is, of course, enriching but incredibly stressful. What is the rush?!?! Why is society so hell-bent on forcing people into life-changing scenarios as though there is some universal timetable we’re supposed to be living by? All the outside pressure does is make the couple on the receiving end feel anxious and awkward in mixed company, and, worst of all, it can force them to jump to conclusions (e.g., if we’re not married now, we’ll never get married; if you don’t want kids right now, you’ll never want them) instead of taking their time. Oh, hell no.
I mean, I don’t even want kids, and I’m taking my time with Bae, making sure we’re right for each other. I only want to get married once. Not because of some moral issue; getting divorced (and getting married again, tbh) seems as annoying as moving, and I am not living that celebrity life where jumping into marriage and dipping the fuck out when they’re “over it” is the norm because money and supporting oneself is not an issue. However, if you’re not rich and unbothered (and quite frankly, even if you are), it’s wise to take a beat, or several, and think about which, if any, society-approved boxes of adulting you want to tick. It’s even wiser for those outside of someone’s relationship to not apply pressure to something as monumental as marriage. Everyone’s timetable is different, and while many are on track to be partners at What’s Mine Is Yours, many aren’t and that’s not everybody’s business. You know what else is not everyone’s LLC? When a woman is married or in a long-term committed relationship and childfree. Yeesh! The fog of judgment is thiiiiiiick, and not the good kind of thick like actor Milo Ventimiglia’s thighs in booty shorts, but thick like gas that a comic book villain uses to attack a city, thus making it nearly impossible to breathe.
For real. If a lady is married without kids, people look at her like, “So y’all just fucking for pleaszh?” I’m not married, but I mean, yeah? Don’t people do anything simply for the enjoyment of it anymore?! Just like not every hobby needs to be turned into an Etsy business, not every act of lovemaking needs to result in a child. Serious question: Why is the underlying theme of marriage that you’re supposed to be boning your spouse for the express purpose of adding a dependent on a W-4? That sounds sad as hell. Sex is one of the most exciting and incredible things humans can experience, and sometimes it happens in hopes of creating a person, but a lot of the time, it’s happening because it feels good. So making married women feel like their relationship is somehow invalid because they’re not reproducing is not only terrible, it can put them on the defensive or, in my case, the offensive. I’m not even married, but I’m used to being the aggressor in the “why I don’t have kids” conversation as a means to protect myself.
In the very recent past, whenever motherhood came up, I’d generally come out the gate with, “I don’t want kids because I don’t have the capacity to be nurturing.” Not a “maybe I don’t,” which could signal to the person I’m talking to that I would like for them to reassure me otherwise. Instead, what I offered up was a hard truth that I’m not only supposedly deficient in a characteristic that society believes all women should possess, but that it’s impossible to fix that deficiency within me. It just always felt easier to project the image of whatever I suspected the average person must be thinking about my childfree status (usually that I’m heartless) because if I could beat them to the punch, then their words couldn’t hurt me. There was just one problem: What I said was bullshit. I know how I am with my friends, employees, and family. I am the resident hype woman, encouraging them to reach beyond the stars. I share books, quotes, and life lessons I’ve gathered along the way because I don’t believe in hoarding information. I celebrate their achievements and help them talk through their doubts. And pre-Covid, I was doling out hugs left and right. If anything, I love nurturing others; I just haven’t given birth to or adopted any of these people. But I was taught that none of those traits mattered since I wasn’t a mother. In fact, since I wasn’t a mother, a part of me suspected that perhaps none of the aforementioned things that I do ever really happened. That’s not where the self-flagellation stopped.
I would also claim that I was too lazy to be a mom even though I run multiple businesses, and while I know that’s not akin to the 24/7 job of parenthood, most people who know me would not describe me as shiftless or one to shirk responsibility. And sometimes, I’d get straight to the point by stating that I would be a terrible mother who wouldn’t pass on any of my good qualities, just the neurotic tendencies, to my hypothetical children, thus creating an army of Black Larry Davids. That I would be utterly hopeless and would never learn on the job, and no parental instincts would ever kick in for me. I have spent much of my adult life trying out different justifications to explain why I don’t want to be a mother, not only for others but also for myself. I needed to diagnose my “shortcoming” as a woman. Let me tell you something: It’s tiresome and painful to constantly poke and prod at yourself in the hopes of finding proof of your brokenness that you can offer up as penance to every person you see. As if self-hatred and shame are somehow a sufficient payment for one’s childless time on Earth. As if self-hatred and shame should somehow be acceptable armor in order to get through a conve
rsation.
Sadly, I’m not the only person who did or still does rely on the self-blaming technique. It continues to be used by us voluntarily childfree people because we have had these discussions a million different times and in a million different ways, so we can easily decipher who has good intentions and who doesn’t. And more often than not, people are “concern trolling.” Meaning, they aren’t actually concerned or interested in understanding you or your life choices; rather, they want to condemn you under the guise of questioning. As if over the course of one or several conversations, they will discover the real cause that you were too dumb to realize or too ashamed (there’s that word again) to admit. The reasons can include, but are not limited to:
Ambitious Partner Wife: LOL. Let’s be real, we all know that an ambitious man is never considered the reason for the season of childlessness. A husband can opt to not have children and put his career first and be celebrated for his devotion to his craft and be labeled a genius (a word, by the way, that’s rarely used to describe women) and told that it is a “worthy sacrifice” if it means society is on the receiving end of his professional contributions. But a woman? She will be blamed, chastised, and labeled “selfish” for investing in her career. And despite all the ways that she may be an incredible wife—her thoughtfulness, her giving nature, her love for her spouse, etc.—she will still be seen as a horrible person who’s denying her husband the joys of fatherhood, all so she can climb the corporate ladder. Some folks might even predict that the husband will eventually leave her and find someone else who can give him kids. And if he doesn’t leave, people will just assume that when she gets older, she will admit that not having children is the biggest regret of her life. That is how the story is supposed to end for an ambitious woman who never became a mother. She must be punished by all-consuming grief.
Silly Person Who Hates Children and Is Too Stubborn to Overlook That Hatred in Order to Sign Up for an Eighteen-Year Commitment: But also . . . isn’t that a good thing? Like, have you ever had a bowl of tagliatelle Bolognese that was prepared by a chef who was in a stank-ass mood and didn’t give a damn about you, your life, or your taste buds? That garbage will make you wanna power wash your tongue like you’re a city employee cleaning a sidewalk. Point is, just like the best food, the best people are made with love. We absolutely do not need folks who loathe children begrudgingly making babies and creating a whole new generation of Mitch McConnells. I don’t care if the hate you have in your heart has nothing to do with being anti-children and is just temporary because someone cut you off in traffic prior to you getting home; if you don’t tell your wife/girlfriend/partner to greet you at the door with burning sage to wave over your peen while John Legend’s “Ordinary People” plays in the background, you are not to have sex for fear of any negative energy that may still be in the dong. That’s just science.
You Just Haven’t Thought It Through: Since the beginning of time, women in particular have been programmed with messaging that they should be straight, a wife, and a mother. Whether it’s playing house or being warned to not have certain traits that would make them undesirable to men (confidence, opinions, wits, joie de vivre), it seems all that girls have been trained to do is to be a mother without ever thinking about if that is something they want. Therefore, determining that motherhood is a no-go is something that has been thought about a lot. Let’s stop underestimating women’s ability to think critically about the choices they make for the betterment of their lives.
You’re Trying to Get Your Peter Pan On Instead of Being a Grown-Ass Adult: I know the Peter Pan reference is meant to be taken as a slight, but Peter Pan is dope. He can fly, he encourages people to be adventurous, and his tights never have a run in them, unlike mine, which as soon as I step into stockings, thirty-two rips and tears appear and I look like a Rocky Horror Picture Show backup dancer. Anyway, Peter Pan is great, so I refuse to accept being called him as a form of shade. What I do reject, however, is the notion that because I don’t have kids, I’m resisting being an adult. No. I’m 10,000 percent an adult. Peep the stats: 1) If I sleep at a seven-degree angle that’s different from how I usually sleep, then for the next ten days, I have to turn my whole body in order to look at the person I’m talking to; 2) every day, I click “Later” on the “Updates Available” notification on my laptop; 3) my home is always at “sorry for this mess” (even when it’s not) when I invite people over; 4) I’m utterly confused by any and all prices in the grocery store like it hasn’t always been this way; 5) when I find out there won’t be seating at an event, it’s reason enough for me to stay home; 6) when I get home from work and realize I’ve forgotten to take the chicken out the freezer, I call my parents to commiserate because I finally understand why they always made a fuss about this mistake; 7) chores are seemingly and depressingly endless, but still I love to complete them then go to my to-do list, write the task down, and immediately cross it off, which, much like the Pizza Hut / Baskin-Robbins combination shop, is a fresh hell / a sweet treat. I could go on, but you get my point. I adult. All people, once they reach a certain age, adult whether they have children or not. Just because the things and responsibilities that make up one person’s adulting look different from another’s doesn’t mean it’s not happening. While we’ve evolved to where not being a parent (either by choice or circumstance) is more commonplace—one out of five women in their early forties have never had a child—it’s clear that the heteronormative expectation is for straight couples to make babies. Evidence is everywhere for that, but none might be clearer than when a public figure finally “settles down.”
George Clooney got married at fifty-three and became a father at fifty-six. Cameron Diaz had her first child at forty-seven. And it was almost as if society let out a sigh of relief as if to say, “Finally! They decided to grow up and get on with life the way it should be lived.” What about those who never change their minds and are content with not having kids? They’re pitied and viewed as irresponsible because, sadly, it seems that the real reason being voluntarily childfree bristles some people boils down to a perceived lack of morality. Bella DePaulo’s Psychology Today article “The Cost of Choosing Not to Have Kids: Moral Outrage” examines this. More than any of the other reasons people may disapprove of the voluntarily childfree—presumed laziness, immaturity—the biggest grievance is that opting out of having children breaks the societal contract of “contributing” to the greater good. After reading a study psychology professor Leslie Ashburn-Nardo shared in a 2017 issue of the journal Sex Roles, DePaulo provided her analysis of the data:
The people who decided not to have children were denigrated more than the people who wanted to have children. They were seen as less psychologically fulfilled and less well-adjusted.
The analyses the author did seemed to suggest that the feelings of moral outrage were driving the skeptical views of the psychological health of the people who chose not to have kids. When participants learned that the person they were reading about had decided not to have kids, and stood by that decision years later, they were morally outraged. That outrage seemed to fuel their harsh judgments that the people who chose not to have kids were probably not all that fulfilled or well-adjusted.
Dr. Ashburn-Nardo believes that the married people who chose not to have children were viewed harshly because they were violating an expectation that is so strong, it is almost a cultural imperative: You must have children! Couples who violate that norm suffer backlash for doing so.
Ummm, how about we keep cultural imperatives to less invasive things, such as not walking around barefoot on flights and banning “free trials” that require us to enter our payment details? Like, if it is free, then why you tryna force people into a contractual agreement? That’d be like if I went to Sam’s Club and as an employee is about to give me a free sample of Honest Tea iced tea, she says, “Let me get that expy date, security code, and billing zip from you real quick so that we can charge you monthly for a case of tea
that we both know you always say you’re going to cancel but never do.” If I heard that, I’d be like, “Lol. Wut? I’m fine being parched as fuck as I walk around this warehouse looking for premade mac and cheese, makeup wipes, and dried acai berries.”
The point is that shared, universal beliefs make sense with lightweight issues, but something as personal and transformative as having a family ought to be a decision that each person must make for themselves. Especially if it’s a decision that is tied up in the mythology that it’s something we should all do because we’re in this (and by “this,” I mean “life”) together. Look, I get it. On some level, I understand the desire to pretend we’re in a utopian community. The fantasy that we’re operating as our best selves for the benefit of the group makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. But that’s not reality! Time and time again, we behave in ways that best serve the self rather than everyone.
Littering has been proven to have disastrous effects, as researchers estimate that more than 40 percent of the world’s litter is simply burned in open air, which releases toxic emissions, yet every day in New York City, I see people toss paper, plastic, and cardboard on the ground as though they’re about to have a romantic evening with Oscar the Grouch and the garbage is the equivalent of a rose petal trail that will lead to a heart-shaped hot tub. Many folks refuse to respect the humanity of the LGBTQIA+ community and to agree that they should have the same rights as cis, straight people. We overlook the harmful effects of the “gig” economy and instead promote the narrative that people having to work around the clock in order to make it demonstrates an “excellent work ethic.” We allow abusers and sexual predators to go unpunished if what they provide culturally—music, art, athletic achievement, technological advancements—is deemed worthy. We don’t care about our elderly, our veterans, or anyone who isn’t able-bodied. Despite the tragedies of Sandy Hook Elementary, Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, and a long list of other school shootings, we don’t protect our students and restrict the kinds of guns that can be purchased because some people’s allegiance is to the Second Amendment and not to the safety of our youth. Hell, look at the national response to Covid-19 in America. We can’t even come together in the face of a global pandemic. After nine months of the federal government spreading disinformation, coupled with the nation’s “me first” mentality, which resulted in many people refusing to wear a mask and socially distance, more than three thousand people were dying per day, meaning that each day we were surpassing the total deaths on 9/11. So the notion that not having children is this grand disrupter to an otherwise idyllic civilization doesn’t hold water.
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