My thoughts on children have always been they are a pain in the ass. I was raised feeling like an inconvenience, like a problem, like something unwanted that was forced upon someone as an aggravation.

As such – I have never wanted to experience motherhood. But more than not wanting to experiencing motherhood, my avoidance of parenting came from the fact I never wanted to make a child feel as bad as I felt growing up. I wouldn’t want a child to feel as undesired as I did when I was young.

I clung to the image of being childfree as part of my identity. I was defined by my selfish desire to never procreate. I was outspoken, controversial, challenging and occasionally offensive to parents. I called them “breeders”. I would joke that I would love to be a mother, but I was far too ambitious. I thought it was sad that women as mothers gave up any hope of a happy life, in the noble name of a flappy vagina and screaming brood of monsters.

I never looked at the positives of motherhood. I didn’t realize there was a calm beauty within it, there was accomplishment, there was an unbreakable bond of love between mother and child… but also an eternal bond between man and woman. You made a human together. Do you get that?!? You and another person created life. That is outstanding! All my personal reservations removed (they are bad for the environment, state of the world is irreparable, sustainability is impossible) having kids is pretty fucking impressive.

My current relationship involves a step child. I am around one of these heathens I avoided for 28 years. And know what? It’s not too bad. Really. He’s fun, he’s fascinated by life, he’s hopeful, he’s like an untainted river, a bloomless flower. But in addition, I watch his father, the man I love, raise him with such a gentle and loving demeanor. I watch this man, in all his masculinity and ruggedness, turn on this sweet energy full of tolerance and hope that I will never see. That we will never share. Part of me is sad, most of me is jealous.

My regrets are that I won’t ever experience the bonding that children provide – either with my child or with my spouse. I won’t experience that permanent union with another human being, ever. I’ll be alone in my life when I’m older, which doesn’t “scare” me, but it’s not appealing. I don’t have someone who will unconditionally love me. The hardest thing to get around is the thought that I am missing out on an experience with the man I love, while he’s having that experience with someone else.

I always thought “relationship stages” moved through: dating (boyfriend girlfriend), engagement (fiancé fiancée) and married (eventually parents). To me, it was natural that if you were married – you had a family. I’m not certain how or when I drew this conclusion, but I attest it to societal standards and movies. I’m also not sure where I saw myself fitting in that structure, when I already knew I wouldn’t have children. And I still don’t know where I will fit. But I certainly know where I don’t fit…. And that’s mostly everywhere. I’m a childfree adult. I’m selfish, crazy, immature, progressive, or not worth impregnating.

Overall I will be okay. It is a choice all women make, and not having a child doesn’t make me less of a woman. But it’s dually difficult when I’m faced with someone who chose differently. I’m sad that I can’t relate to something that is such a huge part of my spouse’s life. I wish I could give that to him too. That’s what makes me feel like less of a woman.