Deciding to Be Childfree Means Constantly Questioning My Purpose
In some ways, I envy my friends with children. Every day, they have a very apparent purpose and can feel the weight of their responsibility. From the moment they open their eyes in the morning to the sweet relief of sleep that happens 18 or so hours later, parents automatically have a very important place in society and have impacted the next generation simply by adding to it.
Of course, it’s not that simple and most parents hope that their child is more than just a number. They dream big for their kids, searching for clues pointing to what their son or daughter shows a knack for, or has an interest in. Some parents dream of the White House for their kids, while others hope they’ll follow in their footsteps and take over the family business or maybe even become a doctor or a lawyer.
For me, a 36-year-old woman who decided over a decade ago that I didn’t want children, I am left to search for clues about what I’m supposed to do with the time I have left — however long that might be. Instead of having a child who’s future I can analyze (and overanalyze), I stare down my own future. Should I buy this domain, start that business, write that article, finish this book? I am left to fill most of my time with what I want to do, and although that may sound like I dream to busy-to-the-max parents, it can be a lonely, isolating place at times.
Sometimes I envy friends and strangers who can pour themselves into their children, while I sit here and agonize that I’m not doing enough or making enough of an impact. As I close yet another self-improvement book, I feel what can only be called jealousy that parents don’t worry about how to fill their hours because their hours are already slap full.
Perhaps you’re thinking, “Poor her, she has too many hours in the day. What I wouldn’t do to have an extra hour in MY day!” I’m not asking for your sympathy and don’t expect it, just like you shouldn’t expect my sympathy for your choices. I chose this life precisely so that I would have more time for my work, myself, and traveling (among a host of other reasons, of course). Sure, I’ve questioned this decision several times, but lately, it’s not so much questioning my decision as much as it is feeling like I am letting the world down. Here I am, married, middle class, with a flexible career, but am I really making any kind of difference? What’s the best way to spend my extra hours to help make the world a better place for all of us, including those busy parents raising the next generation?
Another wrench in my childfree existence is that I know very few people older than me who don’t have kids. Who are my role models? Where do I look for inspiration of childfree people in their 40s, 50s, 60s+ living their best lives? Sure, Oprah, Chelsea Handler, and Jen Aniston are childfree, but in general, my life is filled with moms rocking parenthood.
And I’m sure that plenty of parents worry about their own purpose at times, too. But then it’s time to pick up their kid from daycare, or worry about what to make for supper, or get interrupted by a loud crash. Me? No real interruptions in my day-to-day schedule. I wake up when I want, go to bed when I want, and lay out my work week how I want. While a schedule-less existence probably sounds pretty great to someone who lives and breathes their calendar, it can lead to the “am I a total and complete piece of shit because I only have two things that I absolutely have to do today?” question that creeps up from time to time when I don’t have a lot of pressing things going on.
I am doing my best to quell that nasty question and just be grateful for the life I’ve built. I am not a piece of shit because I don’t have kids or a crammed calendar. It’s okay to not work the typical 9-to-5, 40-hour workweeks. It’s okay to take off for a four-hour hike anytime I want. It’s okay to seek meaningful ways to spend my time instead of jumping into whatever because I feel misplaced guilt. If I’m a good person working toward goals and trying to be a good citizen and member of the community, then that needs to be enough — that’s my purpose.