A long time ago I decided that I wasn’t going to have any children.
In fact it was so long ago that I have actually forgotten what prompted the initial idea. It’s even conceivable that I was born with the thought or developed it so early that it seems that way now.
As I grew up the idea grew with me, my Mum had a baby when I was twelve and I doted on my little sister, but was still in no doubt that I wouldn’t want one. Any chances of rose tinted visions about motherhood were shattered at that point, I knew what it was really like and it was hard and tiring and thankless.
When I started having boyfriends I took contraception very seriously, I knew that getting pregnant at a young age would tie me to that person and my run down town forever. Not getting pregnant was the only degree of control I had in a rather chaotic life.
I moved in with my first serious boyfriend at 16 and even though I was besotted with him a part of me knew that this was not the one, in fact as it turned out he was a complete a-hole and very much confirmed my belief that having no children meant that I could just walk away at any time with no regrets.
At 21 I got together with the most wonderful man I have ever met, three years later we married and suddenly everyone wanted to know when we were going to start producing. Even people who knew I had no desire for children thought I would change my mind now I was happy and settled. I didn’t.
11 years later we are just as crazy about each other and childless. I have noticed now that the people who know us have stopped asking, but worse than that new people who find out have started looking at me strangely. I see the thoughts like words scrolling across their face.
“A woman who doesn’t want kids (maybe she can’t, maybe something is wrong with her – poor thing) How strange.”
When I was younger it all seemed easier to explain - I want a life , I want to get up when I feel like it and go to bed late, I want to drop everything and go on holiday or do nothing all day but eat toast and watch Dr who. When I was young people accepted that, or waved it off with an “Oh you are only young - plenty of time yet.”
Now I find my self increasingly trying to justify it, despite the fact that a few people will tell me in stage whispers that they “sometimes wish they hadn’t had their little darlings.” I know they don’t mean it not really, no more than I meant it when I slammed the door and told my mum I hated her as a kid.
I don’t dislike kids, though I will admit I find babies rather boring. Toddlers however are endlessly fascinating and entertaining, and I spend loads of time with my niece and nephew. I have just never felt the desire to make one of my own.
Am I weird?
I even wonder that myself sometimes.
I have heard some women describe the need for children as a physical pain.
Logically we were built to breed - that’s how we got this far.
But is it possible that some people are born without that urge like worker ants or bees… could it be that I am part of a new phase for us overpopulated humans?

