Thirty, Child Free, Still Happy

This is a little update on an old post Mother Earth Feminism And Female Oriented McGuffins: A Rant.

I was born thirty years ago last month (this post was supposed to go up on my birthday but, well, birthday stuff happened). Within a couple of years I was walking and talking and causing the general chaos that only a toddler can (apparently mostly just sleeping in strange places in the house while my mother wasn’t looking). Not too long after this I was getting pissy about adults who bought me dolls for my birthday and wondering why my female friends wanted to play with plastic babies and toy pushchairs.

I don’t want children. I never have, and I have spent the last twenty or so years explaining this to people. To friends whenever the “perfect future life” conversation has come up. To my doctor after he was confused by my complete indifference to the news I might not be able to carry to term after an illness. To a boss who had employed me because my best friend said I was a single teenage mother (I nearly killed said best friend). To people that I’ve worked with who have been curious about my life plans.

This little post is dedicated to that last group.

Hi there! Remember when you asked me about children and I said I didn’t want any? Remember how you said, with a knowing wink; “oh, you will when your biological clock starts ticking”? Remember that?

Bite me.

I’m 30 years old and there’s not an inkling of a tick-tock coming from my innards. Nothing. Maybe I’m broken. Maybe I’m a cylon. Maybe your ideas of how a woman is nothing more than a breeding machine that runs purely without any intervention from the hypothalamus are all just bullshit.

Do you remember the other line you’d occasionally trot out? How did that go? Oh yeah; “what if your future husband wants children?” Remember how you’d scoff at my reply? “No man I want to spend my life with will want children either.” Remember that? Why would you think I would even stay with someone with such radically different desires for our future? Why would I put myself through such a huge thing like pregnancy, birth and raising a child just to keep a partner? How about my partner accepts I don’t want to go through all that? Huh?

I am NOT a baby making machine. I can’t believe I still have to have this conversation with people.

Well, the man I have spent the last ten years and counting with doesn’t want kids. So again; bite me.

It’s about time people stopped telling me what I will and won’t be doing regarding my love life and my reproductive organs with patronising certainty. These are my things and I will decide what to do with them, using all of me, not just a couple of glands somewhere in my abdomen.

You said I would want my own kids by now. I don’t. It’s not even simply that I’ve done the maths and decided not to have children. I never made that decision because there was no decision to make. It’s never been “I would like children but my circumstances don’t fit that plan”. I simply have no desire to have and raise a child.

So where does that leave your “biological clock” idea, huh? Is it still coming? Is mine just running slow? Or are you, in fact, not able to predict the future?
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