Notes on (Not) Wanting Kids

I don't need a reason

I don't know how to start this essay. I want to say something profound, something wise but nothing like that is coming to mind.

So, this is me just jumping into it.

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Photo by Florian Klauer on Unsplash

I've written about not knowing if I'd ever be a good mother. But I've never really explored if I even want to be a mother at all.

Do I want kids because society demands it of me in order for me to be “whole”? Or do I NOT want kids because society has said I must have them in order to be “complete.”

I have been in therapy for about two years now and I've picked up some tricks. Whenever I'm panicking because something didn't go my way or I'm in a pickle, my therapist always tells me to imagine the worst that could happen and then rationalise it.

This is me thinking of the worst that could happen if I ever had kids and then rationalising it.

1. The worst case scenario: I'll have kids, and not have the money to take care of them as I'd like.

The rationalisation: Children that are less privileged are not inherently bad. They often grow up to be awesome people.

2. The worst case scenario: I'll have a child and pass on my mental illness to them.

The rationalisation: Although it's a constant battle, I have a mental illness and I'm thriving, not just surviving. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. If I can do it, they can too.

3. The worst case scenario: I have kids and I don't know what to do with them, these tiny humans depending on me to show them the way. Haaaa. Even I don't know the way.

The rationalisation: As long as I love them and make effort, they'll be fine.

But sometimes, rationalizing the worst isn't enough. So here's another trick I've picked up—making a pros and cons list to give myself clarity.

Pros: Adorable mini me’s.

Cons: stress, no time alone, can't put myself first, constant worry, setting myself up for heartbreak.

Looking at this list, I notice something striking - while I can only think of one somewhat superficial pro, the cons just keep coming.

Does this reveal something deeper about me? Or am I not taking this seriously enough?

Thinking of worst case scenarios and creating a pros and cons list has just left me more confused. It was supposed to bring clarity, but is anything ever that simple?

I realise now that I don't want to ever be pregnant, I'm not one for pain, and trust me, pregnancy comes with a buttload of it.

But that's not an excuse for not wanting kids because I can have kids without getting pregnant. So why don't I feel relief? Why don't I feel like a weight has been lifted of my shoulders? Why aren't I jumping for joy?

I think I know why. Perhaps on a deeper level, I'm sure I never want to have to take care of kids because of this deep rooted fear that I'm not capable of taking care of myself.

And so, I'm thinking and making up excuses to justify my decision. It's not enough to not want something, there has to be a good reason. Yes or yes?

At least that is what society says when it comes to the matter of having or not having kids.

I'm the first child and one of the things that has always been pointed out to me is that I don't act like a first born. I'm not mature or responsible enough for a first born.

And maybe it's true.

I remember this time that my brothers and I were home alone. My brother didn't eat a thing that day, he was too busy playing game and watching TV and I was too engrossed with myself to notice.

When my parents got back and noticed that he hadn't eaten, I was given a good talking too. A proper, I'm disappointed in you speech, complete with the are you not the first born?

Coupled with the fact that no one trusts me to take my meds myself (rightly so), no one trusts me to make decisions for myself. I don't even trust me. So it's not like they're wrong.

I guess you can say that I'm riddled with self doubt and feelings of inadequacies. If I can't do certain vital things for myself or my brothers how can I do it for a child?

It's always a hassle for me to get out of bed, how then do I get my own kids out of bed?

Am I being too critical? Is this me holding myself to impossible standards or am I just saying it as it is?

But it’s easier to believe I’d fail than to risk finding out if I’d succeed. Because come on! These are actual human lives we're talking about.

Maybe I am being too critical of myself. After all, the same mind that tells me I'm not responsible enough is the same one that's thoughtful enough to question whether I should bring a child into this world. Isn't that responsibility in itself?

But then again, maybe the most responsible thing I can do is acknowledge my limitations. Not as failures, but as realities. Maybe it's not about being incapable, but about knowing myself well enough to make choices that honor who I am, not who others expect me to be.

The truth is, I don't need a good reason to not want kids. I don't need to point to that time I forgot to feed my brother, or my struggles with medication, or my battle with mental illness.

Maybe the most profound thing I can say is that I don’t want to have kids. Not now, not in the future, but maybe someday. And I don’t need a reason, goddammit!