I’m linking up with Northwest Mommy’s Listical. It’s my first Listical linkup ever. The topic intreigued me, in part because when I tell folks I don’t want kids and explain the reasons, I’m often not believed.
My mom doesn’t believe me. A friend who visited over the weekend looked doubtful when we talked about. And essentially being told “I think you’re lying” is frustrating. Whether to have children is a huge decision, and if the outcome is “Yes, please” or “no, thank you,” the thought-process can be a long, drawn-out and serious one. To make such a serious choice and have folks respond, “Eh, I don’t believe you” is a disheartening to say the least.
So here we go: Why Jac doesn’t want kids
1. I’m too selfish for them. I love my life. I love my boyfriend. If I’m lucky enough to one day call him my husband, I want to continue to focus on him. I don’t want our relationship to come in second place.
2. Continuing with No. 1 and being selfish: I like having money for me. I like to be spontaneous. I like to travel. I like to sleep in. I like to go out on Saturday night and not pay for a babysitter. I like to not worry about if someone is going to rip pages from or try to gnaw on my books. I like to listen to my music in the car. I don’t want to watch a show where one of the characters looks like a deformed sex toy.
3. I feel fulfilled when I’m around other children. I adore children (one of the reasons Mom doesn’t believe me that I don’t want to raise kids). I love their sillyness and their smell (when they don’t smell like poop), I love their creativity and their unabashed love. And then, I love to give them back to their parents and go on my merry way.
4. Those are all reasons why I don’t want to raise children. I’m 28, and if I change my mind, I’m happy to adopt. However, there are reasons I don’t want to birth children, too. First, the idea of ME being pregnant creeps me out. That’s not to say pregnant women creep me out. But I have absolutely no desire to feel a baby kicking or experience That Glow. ((shudder)) That’s just weird.
6. This stuff has been in place since I was little. When I played with Barbies, I didn’t make them parent each other; I made them do it with each other. When my aunt gave me twin baby dolls with plastic faces screwed up in this awful wail when I was 6, I started to sob. Those little bastards scared the piss out of me.
I’ve known all this about myself for years. I’ve had some friends tell me, “That’s not being selfish; that’s being smart, and it’s knowing yourself.” I suppose that is a better way of looking at it.