Childfree, Childless, Anti-Child? Call me what you want, just stop telling me what to do with my body

After my last blog post went live, several people thanked me for writing about such a personal experience. A couple of people opened up to me about their troubled relationships with their fathers. Others expressed shock that I would publicize such a personal matter. Both sets of reactions encouraged me to write this latest post.

As a woman, many assumptions are placed on me based solely on my gender. I’ve written about some of these before, such as cultural expectations on marriage. This time, I want to write about childbearing. Frankly, just how plain rude it is for people to ask me about having children (When? How many?) and telling me what to do with my life and my body. Family planning is a very personal matter, yet people take it upon themselves to make the following two assumptions about me as a woman:

1. I want to have children.

2. If I don’t want children, then I must hate children.

Both are utterly false and I’m tired of people giving me looks of pity when I tell them that I have no plans for children.

One acquaintance, in particular, is a great example of how this behavior is perpetuated. One of the first times she asked me about children and I told her I don’t want any (Example #1), she flippantly said, “You’ll change your mind when you get older.” Mind you, this woman was just two years older than me but she felt okay talking down to me.

Later on (Example #2), the same acquaintance accused me of hating children in response to a Facebook status I posted about about choosing a child-free life. I did not hesitate to set her straight: I’ve been raising my brother since I was 5 years old, I used to babysit my younger cousins at a very young age, I worked as a babysitter charged with infants when I was in high school, and I love my friends’ kids. I probably knew more about caring for children than she did at that point in her life.

This acquaintance gave birth earlier this year. After I met her new son, she said to me (Example #3), “I’m not in the business of changing people’s minds if they don’t want children, but you should have one.” Contradict much?

All three of these examples are common assumptions that people place on those who express that they don’t want to have children of their own, biological or not. There are plenty of other assumptions placed on us as well: selfish, immature, etc. This video with Susan McPherson disproves all of these misconceptions perfectly. Sure, Susan is not representative of all people who don’t want children, but the video demonstrates that there are a lot of misconceptions and false beliefs about the population that don’t/have children.

I’m so glad this has become a popular topic in public forums, in the media, and on social media lately, such as The Atlantic’s article on “Why Women Choose Not to Have Children.” The discourse on gender and family planning has to change. It holds back women’s rights when other women continue to place antiquated expectations on other women as baby-makers and even homemakers.

I’m not going to list my reasons here to justify why I don’t want children. Maybe that might change or maybe it won’t. Regardless, it’s no one else’s business but mine and my partner’s. So… Don’t tell me I will change my mind. Don’t tell me I should have at least one kid just for the experience (this was actually said to me by a man). Don’t tell me not to wait because my biological clock is ticking. Don’t cite statistics on birth defects to me. Don’t tell me I will die alone and I need someone to take care of me when I’m older. Don’t tell me I will regret it. All of those have been said to me by multiple people, including friends, family, co-workers, acquaintances, neighbors, my cousin’s husband’s aunt’s grandfather… I am willing to have candid conversations with people about this topic—as long as the participants don’t come with preconceived notions about me and my gender.

I respect your decision to have children (and I may even love these kids), so please respect my decision to not have children.

Young spinsters and “leftovers”

When I ended my 3-year long relationship in the fall of 2010, it was my longest relationship to date. I was 26 years old and in my 2nd year of graduate school. My relationship with Lonny* was riddled with problems almost from the beginning. Ultimately, our values were too different and we wanted different things from life. The myriad of problems was not the kind a couple can work through; they were inherent. We both wanted to get married and have a life-long partner, but I did not want those things from him.

When I broke the news to my mom, her response was, “He was a nice guy. You should work things out with him. Give him another chance.”

I reminded her, “You know we always fought and I just do not want to spend the rest of my life that way.”

“But he had a steady job and at least he didn’t hit you!” she bemoaned, as though a steady job (not a career) and the absence of physical violence were high standards.

My mom’s urge for me to settle and lack of support for my decision broke my heart even more than the ending of my relationship. She was more concerned about her social status within our family and circle of friends than my happiness and emotional health.

Right before I graduated from my Master’s program, I told my mom that I was planning to move to DC, where most of the international relations jobs were concentrated. Her reaction was again less than supportive. “Why find a job? Why don’t you find yourself a boyfriend instead? Get married and learn to cook.” Her attitude indicated that she did not understand the importance of my graduate studies, a stepping stone to a new career. Most of all, she did not understand that a relationship and marriage were not even on my priority list.  She dismissed all of my hard work as though it was just an experience I had to get out of my system so, in her eyes, I can finally settle down and become an adult.

Not soon after that conversation, my mom took me to a Chinese psychic (like she did right after I graduated from college). The psychic was a tiny, old, hunched-back woman who sat on a low stool at Columbus Park in Chinatown, the usual hangout for these freelance Chinese psychics. She sheltered herself from the strong May breeze with two umbrellas. “When is my daughter getting married?” was the first question out of my mom’s mouth.

The little, old woman replied, “She will have many suitors, but she will be very picky. She will not get married until she is 38 years old. Her husband will be tall and strong, and he will have three kids from a previous marriage. But she will not bear any children of her own.”

“Great, that means I don’t have to worry about ruining this beautiful body of mine!” I smiled widely. “Now tell me about my career.” The Chinese ladies who were waiting in line to consult with this psychic all chuckled and laughed at my response. My mom, who turned red, quickly waved her hand and said, “Oh, she’s just joking. She’s just joking! Tell me more about her husband.”

My mom clearly forgot that the last “psychic” she took me to in 2006 told us that I would meet my husband later that summer and that I would be married by 2008. My mom’s investment in my dating life while I was completely ambivalent was yet another major socio-cultural difference between us. It highlighted our different spiritual and religious beliefs, our different values, and we wanted different things out of life. One may even say that my relationship with my mom was fairly similar to my relationship with Lonny.

When this BBC article landed in my inbox, I was filled with a mix of emotions. I found it ironic as China finds yet another negative consequence of its one-child policy. I found some of it humorous for the fact that this absurdity is real, that this stuff is actually happening. I was outraged that the state and a women’s rights civil society organization supported these outdated standards. I felt sorry for the women in China who refuse to settle and have to face the stigma that comes with it. Most of all, I felt angry, offended, and hurt. Their stories reminded me of my mom. My mom who left China almost three decades ago yet still perpetuate these outdated social norms. This was more proof that women are sometimes a part of the gender mainstreaming issues that I spend so much time researching and discussing.

Just like Huang Yuanyuan, one of the women in the article, I will be turning 29 soon. And I’ve already noticed the heightened urgency from my mom about me getting married. Although I’m tired of explaining to her the difference between “settling” and “settling down,” reminding her that I’m more focused on my career, and telling her that Americans (especially urbanites) are getting married at later in life, I know it won’t make a difference. I know she gets these questions from her friends and my aunts. I know she doesn’t want to “lose face.” However, I also know that I’m not afraid to prove her wrong–just by being happy regardless of whether I am in a relationship or even a marriage.

*Name changed for individual’s privacy.