It happens a lot. Your friend is gabbing about her cousin’s new baby, or toddler, or whatever tiny human has suddenly graced her motherly presence. She’s gushing about how “cuuute” the kid is and you’re like, “Wow. Great. Please stop showing me pictures, I don’t care.” Then she gets offended, and you are dubbed a cold, heartless, bitch without maternal instinct in your worthless female body.
I really don’t think this makes a girl a bad person, though I’m pretty sure most people would disagree. It’s hard out here for a happily childless bitch. In a world where gender roles are changing faster than ever, one idea has remained, encoded in our basic makeup: women love kids. Because of this, when people hear a woman say that she’s not into babies, they automatically assume that she’s either going to die alone, or in the arms of another equally gay woman.
Biologically, I can understand why it is widely assumed that any person with ovaries will automatically feel a strong maternal connection to every child in existence. However, it’s just not always true. I’ll be the first to tell you that I honestly don’t like children. It’s not that I hate them (which I sometimes do), but in general, I’m just not a huge fan. I think they’re selfish, sticky liabilities and frankly, I’d rather attend a bottom-tier rush party stone cold sober than babysit your child.
People don’t understand that not having the urge to procreate at the moment doesn’t mean that you’re giving up on the idea of one day having a normal life and a baby. I’d like to think that if I baked the bun in my personal oven and bore it in excruciating yet drug-numbed pain, sure, I’d probably feel something for the little nugget. That doesn’t mean I want to pop one out this instant, but it does explain why I feel zero connection to anybody’s kids that aren’t mine.
The worst part about being the girl who doesn’t like kids is the reactions you get from those ridden with baby fever. When you speak the words, “I don’t like kids,” they are so taken back that you would think you had accidentally misspoke and said, “I want to murder every child who lives.” Not liking something is not the equivalent to hating something. Would I avoid talking to a child? Yes. Would I punch that same child in the face? Um, no.
Then there’s your mother. She’s been on your ass about getting married and giving her grandchildren since the day you got your first bra, and holy crap, that shit is getting old. No matter how many times you remind her that you have many possible baby-making years ahead of you, she still pulls out the “You were born with as many eggs as you’re ever going to get” card, making you feel like an old maid while you’re still in your early twenties. This is only made worse by the fact that she’s the most maternal person you know, a character trait that she seems to have failed to pass along to you. So basically, this is all her fault.
People may condemn the fact that you don’t like kids, but it’s actually a good thing. Think about all the people who jumped the gun and now have an infant child to care for while they’re nineteen years old and working at minimum wage jobs. Good for you for knowing what you want (or don’t want) out of life, and forming concrete opinions towards major life decisions. It may be a minor annoyance having the shit judged out of you by every parent you come across, but at least you know where your head is. You do you, baby-free. .