I Don’t Have Kids and I’m Not Selfish (Or Sad)

home insemination Kit

When it comes to child-free women sharing their stories, the opening line often goes something like, “I really love kids! I promise I’m not a bad person!” I’m not going to stray too far from that tradition, simply because it rings true—I genuinely enjoy being around kids. From snuggly infants to spirited toddlers and inquisitive school-aged children, I find joy in their presence. However, it’s disheartening that women like me often feel the need to defend our choice not to have children, sometimes even before the conversation kicks off.

You see, when we share that we don’t plan to have kids, it doesn’t take long for someone to label us as selfish. I remember when I hit my early 30s, and a guy friend told me I was being selfish for not wanting biological children. He was well on his way to family life with two kids of his own, and I was taken aback. That moment marked the decline of our long-standing friendship.

Why Do We Feel the Need to Justify?

Child-free women often bristle at being called selfish, especially by men, because we understand the underlying message: that we’re somehow less feminine or maternal, which can feel like a personal attack. The reality is, without kids, we have the freedom to be incredibly giving—supporting friends, caring for their children, looking after aging parents, and contributing to our communities. When judged for our choices, it’s frustrating because our contributions to society can be immense.

When a man refers to a child-free woman as selfish, it’s a narrow-minded view, implying that our sole purpose is to become mothers. It’s not just conservative voices that echo this sentiment; even more progressive figures can sometimes fall into this trap, as seen when Pope Francis recently weighed in on the issue.

Not Everyone’s Best Experience is Mine

Then there are the women in my life. Friends who are moms often look at me with pity, suggesting I should really consider having kids because it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them. And sure, I believe them—it’s their best experience. But I have my own best moments. I can’t help but sense a projection of their own choices, as they seem to think I’m living some wild, party-filled life. In truth, I’m home binge-watching Netflix after a long day, just like everyone else. It makes me wonder if they want me to experience the sleepless nights and struggles of motherhood, as if to say, “Join the club!”

Open to Possibilities, But Not for Me

To clarify, I’m in a unique position among those who are child-free. I might consider adoption in the future, finances permitting, and I’m open to being a stepmom. However, I ruled out biological motherhood nearly a decade ago, largely due to concerns about climate change and overpopulation. I can love and care for kids, even if they don’t share my DNA. Adoption would be an easy choice for me if it were feasible; I’d even consider fostering if I didn’t live in a small studio.

But you know what? If motherhood isn’t in the cards for me, I’m okay with that. I don’t lose sleep over it or dwell on missed opportunities. I feel whole and content with my life, whether or not I ever become a mom. If I do take that path someday, I hope to maintain my identity as a woman, a writer, and just a person. Motherhood is often glorified, and while moms deserve all the credit for their hard work, they should be recognized as complex individuals beyond just being “moms.”

When I first wrote about my choice to remain child-free, it sparked quite a backlash. My piece, “My Uterus Is Closed For Business and I Have No Regrets,” received a ton of comments, many harshly labeling me selfish, just like my friend did. Yet, it also resonated with many child-free women, accumulating nearly 6,000 likes on social media. It’s clear we still have a long way to go in breaking the stigma surrounding the child-free choice.

To create a more accepting environment for those who choose not to have children, we need to start teaching the next generation that being child-free is a valid option—one that holds equal value to any other life path. This acknowledgment should begin early, but even as we grow older, whether we’re out partying or up all night with babies, we should respect each other’s choices.

In summary, being child-free doesn’t equate to selfishness or sadness. It’s a legitimate lifestyle choice that deserves recognition and respect. Whether it’s through adoption, fostering, or simply enjoying life as it is, those of us who choose not to have children can lead fulfilling, meaningful lives.