Like It Is

Living in a way that works and that feels right to me is a no-brainer. I think that most would agree that people are happier if they live the life they want to live the way they want to live it. I am more and more aware however that there is often a subtle (and not so subtle) pressure to conform to the status quo. People who you least expect and those you expect to be on your side can bring the most pressure.

Nowhere is this more apparent than when, as I have, a women makes a deliberate decision not to have children. I have been fortunate because I successfully absent myself from situations where I know I am likely to be criticised for my life or lifestyle choices, and have no problem standing up for myself if they are. The question is, why should I have to “stand up” for myself? Why should anyone have to defend their choices?

The criticism is both covert and overt and can come from family, peers and more often than not perfect strangers. One thing that became very clear to me was this: making a decision to be child-free means that you will often find yourself travelling a lonely road. Having always been of an independent spirit this didn’t faze me. I was more prepared because I read a lot. As former friends go off to have babies, as child-free people (women in particular) we can suddenly find we have nothing in common with them and have to find new friends, often a network of completely new friends who not only support but validate our choice. These networks are unlikely to be in our immediate neighbourhood, but happily they can be found. If you belong to a church, unless that church is extraordinarily forward thinking (and I haven’t encountered one of those yet) be prepared to not only find yourself in a minority, but to also have your status openly criticised, held up for ridicule and even condemned. Yet church is supposed to be a caring, inclusive community. If you were formerly in a group or community where everyone conformed, (such as a church community or neighbourhood) finding yourself suddenly on the outside and unable to relate unless you abandon your choice is a fairly gut-wrenching feeling. All of a sudden you don’t fit in anywhere. Because you now threaten the status quo.

Guilt will also come into the mix when your own parents, eager for grandchildren, will feel that your decision to be child-free reflects badly on them, and even robs them of something they have considered their right. Suddenly, something that felt so right to you and your mate has become something akin to bringing the family name into disrepute and more often than not, you find yourself on the defensive. Your family is unhappy and it’s your fault (or so they would have you believe). And if you have siblings that have or are having children, just ratchet the guilt factor up by several notches.

From society’s point of view, you will have to carve out a whole new way to define yourself – or at least to be prepared to – that goes beyond motherhood. Being a mother and a parent is still seen by society as the de facto role for women and their ultimate purpose. Some say this is changing, the reality is it isn’t changing fast enough. That is apparent from the social and government structure right down to the media messages we receive and to a large extent accept. The message is clear… if you aren’t a mother or are not planning to become one you are a non-person who must be prepared to explain yourself. The more traditional your family background the more the pressure you are likely to be subjected to. Society demands – no – defies us to define ourselves outside the narrow definition of motherhood, the underlying premise being that you can’t really be feminine (or normal) if you aren’t and have no intention of being – a mother.

So how do child-free people deal with this? I’ll make that the subject of another post.