Biologically Child-Free: Guilt, Grief & Living Unapologetically

There’s more than one version of a full life. Here I’m talking about the peace I’ve found in being biologically kid-free, the hard parts, the surprising blessings, and the freedom in knowing it’s okay to write your own story. It’s not about choosing less, it’s about choosing different. And maybe that’s the real secret to living life on your own terms.

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Transcript

Today's episode is personal, like deep breath. Before I hit record, kind of personal, today we're talking about being biologically child-free by choice. And what that means for me, how long I've felt this way, the grief and the guilt that comes with it, and. Also the freedom that I have found in a life that I once didn't even know was an option. 

And as a reminder, this episode is purely about my experience and my feelings, and is absolutely in no way knocking being a mother at any age or doing things in what society views as the quote normal way. [00:01:00] I mean, absolutely no disrespect and hope you all understand and take this episode as just an opportunity to get to know me a little bit more. 

And I also wanna add that this isn't a sad episode, but it is a real one. So let's get into it. Let me kick this off by saying that I absolutely love kids. I was a nanny for years and years, and being around children just makes my heart so happy, which lucky for me, I have a life that is full of them. So that's such a blessing. 

But it's been about nine years since I started realizing that I didn't want kids of my own. However, at the time I thought it was just me wanting to wait to have kids. The first time I felt this way was when I realized how much I wanted to move to New York City. I was sitting in class in January, 2016, not even a weekend to school. 

I had about two semesters left before graduation, and all of a [00:02:00] sudden I was sitting there and I just got a panicked feeling about the situation. I knew myself well enough to feel like if. You don't do this now if you don't dive into this head first, you're just going to end up dating someone that you settle for getting married and popping out kids and never get to live this, this dream and that. 

Thought absolutely terrified me. I literally walked out of that classroom in tears, immediately met with my advisor and told them that college was no longer the right path for me, which to be honest, I think I knew that by the third or fourth time, I changed my major, but this time I finally had the guts to leave. 

As I prepared for my move, I was newly 25, single and chasing something bigger. And I remember people telling me that I shouldn't be doing that, that I was supposed to be settling down, finding a husband, having babies. And I just remember thinking, yikes. Absolutely [00:03:00] not. No, thank you. And I framed it in my mind as not right now, but. 

I do look back and think that was just me unknowingly sugarcoating not happening. Then something changed when I left the south and landed in the city. My world got bigger. I started seeing that life didn't have to follow the only formula I was familiar with and engaged or married by 25 and kids in a white picket fence by 30. 

I met people living in all kinds of ways. I saw women in their mid to late thirties thriving in careers, traveling, building full lives without children, and not as a backup plan, but as a choice. And I think that's when it really clicked for me that there's more than one way to be fulfilled, more than one way to be a woman, and more than one version of what happy looks like. 

I look back and I think I knew in my gut. That I didn't [00:04:00] want to have children of my own, but just because I look back and see that now doesn't mean that it's always been simple, even when you know there can still be grief. Recently I went in for a routine yearly with my gyno and shared that I had been feeling pain in my lower abdomen as well as experiencing some other unusual symptoms over the last couple of months. 

My doctor scheduled me for an ultrasound, and at the follow-up appointment I found out that I have at least five fibroids in my uterus, several being on the larger side. And for those of you who like me, were. Not aware. Fibroids are non-cancerous tumors, and actually 70 to 80% of women will have at least one by the time they're 50. 

But according to my doctor, many of them will never experience any symptoms. So while being told this information didn't flip my whole world upside down, it did feel like the universe was circling back to this question that I [00:05:00] thought I had answered. During that follow-up appointment, after my doctor explained what fibroids were, the sizes of the ones they found and why I was having the symptoms I was having, she walked me through what our next steps looked like. 

She listed out different treatments, some including just simple medication like ibuprofen for the pain, and then she mentioned some minimally invasive procedures and then moved on to surgical options, and that's when the word hysterectomy came up. And while she assured me, we were nowhere near that yet, it did hit me harder than I expected because even though I've known I haven't wanted kids for nearly a decade, hearing that word felt final, like it made me pause and think like, wait, what if I change my mind? 

What if I'm wrong? And so the week following, I just had this really heavy feeling about it all, but I couldn't figure out why. I was incredibly grateful that I didn't have cancer, which [00:06:00] thanks WebMD for sending me down that thought path when I was experiencing symptoms, and I was thankful that I didn't need immediate intervention, but I just felt off like I was in a fog just. 

Kind of going through the motions that week. I brought it up to my therapist the following week and he picked up on it as I tried to rush past the topic, which is something I tend to do quite often. I just said, yeah, so, you know, been kind of a heavy week, but you know, no big deal. And he said, he stopped me and said, Lex, like the feelings you're having are very normal. 

You're grieving. And I looked at him and I was like, that's so dramatic. Like I could still try to have a baby right now if I wanted to. And then he assured me, he was like, Lexi, the two don't have to go hand in hand. Two things could be true at the same time. And he was right. I was able to feel all of these emotions of, Hey, yes, I, I do know that this is the path that I want to take and [00:07:00] also I can grieve this life that I didn't know. 

And then there's the guilt, guilt that I'm letting down a different version of myself. Guilt for potentially having the ability but not the desire. Guilt when I see my parents with other people's babies like my nephew, or even my bonus kiddos, guilt, when I see all the ways society says I'm supposed to feel and I just don't. 

And then on top of all of that, there's the guilt for how much I genuinely love my life exactly as it is. Because I love my freedom. I love my independence. I love sleeping in. I love spontaneous trips. I love being able to choose to lay in bed all morning without anyone needing anything for me if I want to do that. 

I love doing what I want when I want, and yet I still feel guilty for loving those things like I'm supposed to feel ashamed for choosing myself. Like [00:08:00] wanting a quiet, peaceful, biologically kid-free life means I'm not nurturing or not generous, or not woman enough, but deep down I know that's not true, but yet it doesn't stop the guilt from creeping in. 

It is constantly thrown in women's faces, how selfish it is of them if they don't want kids, how selfish it is to not have children. However, I genuinely believe. That it is way more selfish to have kids because society says you should, if I have a child, just because it's what I ought to do, I would be filled with resentment and it would project onto that child. 

And I know that a child that's brought into this world should only experience love and happiness and respect from their parents. Now let's talk about what people have to say because if there's one thing that I know, it's that if you tell someone that you do not want your own [00:09:00] children, they are going to have something to say to you. 

They literally cannot keep their opinions to themselves. I've had people say, you'll love your baby once it's here. And I love when people throw this one at me because I'm like. This isn't a Netflix subscription. There's no seven day free trial on a baby. Like you don't get to try it out and send it back if it's not for you. 

This is a lifelong commitment, and it's one that I respect way too much to take lightly. August has even come home with stories of people telling him, well, August, you know, she's gonna change her mind. Or they'll say, you know, she wants kids deep down. And his response is always like, well, unless you've been present for a very different conversation with my fiance than the multiple in-depth ones that she and I have had over the last two and a half years, I can assure you, you are wrong. 

The one that always makes my jaw clinch though is. Lex, you [00:10:00] have to do this. You have to experience being pregnant, giving birth, and becoming a mom. Like this is what life's about. And while I just typically nod and smile, I just want to say like, what if it's not? What if that's not my version of a full life? 

Like I'm so happy that it's your version, but what if it's not for me? I think one of the ones that people hear the most, at least from the conversations that I've had with other people that don't want their own children. Is that we hear a lot of, you're gonna regret it or don't you think you'll regret it? 

And I'm like, maybe. But I'd rather regret not having a child than having a child that I regret. When I was with my ex, I was desperately searching for anything that would make me change my mind about how I felt about having kids. I wanted someone to say something, say anything that would snap me out of these feelings so that I could make my relationship work and so that I could give my ex what he wanted. 

A marriage [00:11:00] with a wife who popped out a bunch of babies. So I took to a Facebook group that had about a hundred thousand women in it. It was run by a girl that had a very famous podcast, and people would go and ask questions and advice. So I decided to post asking if anyone that was a mom had regrets about having kids, and the answers were unbelievable. 

Very raw, very vulnerable. Because it showed me that yes, there are women out there who deeply love their children, but regret their choice, and that given the opportunity, they wouldn't do it again. So for me, hearing that was the confirmation. I needed to reassure myself that my fears of having a child, just because it's expected and them resenting it, are very real. 

They're not dramatic, they're not made up in my head, and that in itself gave me permission. To trust my instincts, to trust my gut. When someone tells you they don't want children, especially someone in [00:12:00] their late twenties or thirties, I can promise you that it's not a decision that they came to lightly or without very serious thought. 

I have a long list of reasons why I don't want kids, and whenever I share some of them, it feels like people make it their mission to change my mind. It doesn't matter if I give a lighthearted reason, like, you know, I gag at the slightest foul smell, which definitely takes diaper duty off the table, or even a more serious reason, like the fear I'd carry every single day once my child went off to school. 

There's always a rebuttal. A solution, a magic fix that I apparently overlooked. And when those responses to my reasons come, I usually just smile politely and say, well, you know what? If I ever change my mind one day, I'll let you know. But deep down, I feel very dismissed. Like my wants and my needs are less important than this hypothetical child they want me to bring into the world. 

Like I'm supposed to push [00:13:00] down all of my concerns just for the sake of motherhood because society thinks I should. It's wild to me how uncomfortable people get when you say you don't want kids. Like it threatens some secret societal contract or something. And I think I'm just left wondering why my decision about my own body and my own life feels like a group project to everyone else. 

But here's where I've landed. Motherhood doesn't only mean pregnancy and giving birth or diapers and raising a child from infancy. August. My fiance has kids, three of them. And while it's not official because we haven't gotten legally married yet, they are absolutely my step kids. I prefer to call them bonus kids because something about the word step just gives me the ick. 

If somebody has a better term, let me know. But these kids, they are 16, 10, and six, two boys and a girl, and they are the most incredible. [00:14:00] Kind, respectful, and hardworking kids you have ever met. They have brought so much joy and meaning and love into my life. They've been the biggest and most. Unexpected blessing. 

They have each added something to my life that I didn't even know that I needed. No, I didn't carry them. I didn't pick their names, hear their first words, or see their first steps, but I've been given the incredible blessing of being a steady presence in their lives. I get to show up with love and support and consistency and humor and care, and that counts for something that is a kind of motherhood. 

There are moments with them that feel so meaningful, like when they text me out of the blue when they ask for my advice or help when we have one-on-one deep conversations about things that are most important to them at this moment in time, like hair or girls or sports [00:15:00] or drama at school, or favorite Disney princesses. 

And some of my favorite times are when we laugh over something silly in the car or around the dinner table. All of those moments remind me that I am showing up in a maternal way, just not the one that I thought I had to choose in order to matter. These kids helped fulfill a part of me that I didn't even realize was open, not because I needed to be a mom to feel whole, but because I get to pour into them in a way that's real and connected and grounded in love. 

And it's enough, maybe it always was, and I just had no clue what was coming for me. I have found so much unexpected joy in the life that I've built, a life that's full of movement and space, hot ant energy and choice. I get to pour into my business, my friendships, my relationship, my family, my bonus kiddos, my passions, and this podcast without feeling torn in a million directions. 

And [00:16:00] I'm finally allowing myself to realize that it's not selfish to live this way. It's self-aware, it's intentional, it's mine. So yeah, sometimes I wonder what if, but most days I feel a deep peace in knowing that I've made the right choice for me. Even if the world doesn't always understand it, even if the timeline looks different, and even if the definition of motherhood and womanhood has had to shift, if you're listening and you have felt this too, whether you're child free by choice, circumstance, or you're just still figuring it all out, I want you to know you are not alone. 

I remember spending so much of my twenties feeling behind, like something was wrong with me because I wasn't married, I didn't have kids, I wasn't following the script. And as a woman who grew up in the South, I'd look around and think, well, it seems like everyone else is doing it, so why don't I want to? 

What's wrong with me? And honestly, that [00:17:00] question haunted me for years and sometimes it still lingers, but the truth is there's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with you. We're just different. It's that simple and it's that complicated. I don't want biological kids, and yet there's still this quiet guilt, like I'm doing life wrong, like I'm supposed to want something that I don't like. 

Choosing a biologically child-free life makes me selfish, even when I know it's right for me, like I'm missing something even when I know deep down I'm not. I have everything I need. And so if you've ever felt this way, like you're broken or out of step, please hear me when I say you are not. You're not behind, you're not broken. 

You're not less than, you're not selfish. You are just living your version of life and that it is more than enough. You're allowed to build a life that feels good to you, even if it doesn't check off [00:18:00] every societal box. You're allowed to grieve what could have been and celebrate what is you're allowed to say. 

This is my version of full and it's enough. Thank you guys so much for listening. This was, um, a very intimate episode to write and record and I'm just really thankful to have your support and you all as listeners and um, I just hope you know y'all are a blessing. Thanks guys.