I Don’t Want Kids—And No, I Won’t Change My Mind When I Get Older

Why is it that whenever I tell someone I don’t want kids, people’s first instinct is to try to convince me otherwise? It doesn’t matter that I’ve completely thought it through and came to the conclusion it just wasn’t for me—they still insist I’ll eventually change my mind. Here are 10 reasons why that just won’t happen:

If I can’t take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of another person? If we’re being honest here, a lot of us wouldn’t get out of bed before noon if we didn’t have to work to survive. We don’t trust ourselves with pets because we might forget to feed them. You can’t do that with an actual human being. You also can’t return a baby to the hospital because you got overwhelmed. Sometimes I don’t even eat because I’m too busy or just plain lazy. Until the day I get my crap together, a baby is out of the question.

The time during and immediately after childbirth is the opposite of a beautiful experience. Did you know that morning sickness isn’t just reserved for the morning? Being pregnant makes you tired all the time because you’re growing an actual person, and it can also lead to permanent illnesses like diabetes. And that’s not to mention what happens AFTER giving birth (because 12+ hours of labor aren’t enough). Most women experience bleeding from their uterus from anywhere between two to six weeks. Kinda like a more intense period that requires a pad big enough to be mistaken for a diaper. Fun, right?

I just don’t really like kids. I know, I know, kids are adorable little chubby blessings.—that is until they start crying for no reason and throwing embarrassing tantrums in public. Oh, and don’t forget when they turn into teens and suddenly hate you for breathing. Don’t get me wrong, if someone asked me to babysit, I’d certainly do it, but that’s only because I know they’re coming to take their kid back at the end of the night.

I’d rather spend my precious time and money on seeing the world. I want to travel across every ocean. I want to climb all the mountains and see all the wonders of the world. I can’t do that with a baby strapped to my back. Yes, I know a lot of women do it and love it, but I don’t think I’d be one of them. That sense of freedom and zero responsibilities would be lost if I have a little person who relies on me for survival tagging along with me. I also feel like children need stability, and being in Australia on Monday and Spain on Friday is nobody’s definition of stability.

I’m not confident that I’d be able to financially provide for 18+ years. I don’t come from a rich family, so I have no inheritance to speak of that would help with the financial side of raising a child. Kids need clothes, food, a good roof over their heads, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Living from paycheck to paycheck isn’t an ideal situation for a single person, much less a whole family. I don’t see the sense in bringing a child up in a less than ideal or comfortable situation.

I hate the idea of not being able to focus on anything but them and neglecting myself. It sounds selfish, I know, but when I love, I love with all I’ve got. Every waking moment of my life would be spent thinking about my child and ensuring that their needs are being met. I wouldn’t be able to buy a lollipop without wondering if I should have used that 99c on something for my kid. I also feel like that neglect of myself would ultimately lead to a bit of resentment towards what put me in that situation—my own child. That’s not a pleasant future for me.

I’d rather take care of disadvantaged kids that are already on the earth. I strongly believe that there are way too many kids already living that need care and love for me to birth another one. So many kids have been abandoned, abused, or left uneducated and I want to help rectify that situation. I have a serious fear that my own kid would be left behind to hurt in my quest to help other people’s children.

I’m afraid of postpartum depression. According to WebMD, postpartum depression is a severe form of clinical depression that makes you feel sad, hopeless or guilty because you don’t want to bond or take care of your baby. I don’t know about you, but it terrifies me that there might be a chance that I wouldn’t be able to give my child all the love and attention they need. I want to be able to provide them with a mentally stable household.

I don’t think I have a maternal instinct. I have no strong desire to take care of another person. Don’t get me wrong, if I had to then I would, but not voluntarily. I don’t find satisfaction in having to always feed, dress, or raise another human being. I would be miserable in that situation, and a miserable parent makes for a miserable household.

I don’t want to be a single mother. We see it every day—parents split up and nine times out of 10, the mother is the one expected to be the child’s main caretaker. Being a single parent isn’t easy—you’re the main source of both emotional and financial support for this impressionable and needy human being. A lot of the time, fathers don’t pull their weight and you end up being the ONLY person holding your home up. I don’t want to put myself in a situation where there’s even the slight possibility of that happening.

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