The Many Forms of Fulfillment

As the perky blonde woman at the Morley Health Center proceeded to passionately talk about all the "wonderful" changes that occur when a girl morphs into a woman, my bony butt began to shift uncomfortably in the hard, plastic chair. My Mom was sitting next to me and I felt a little embarrassed that such a topic was being discussed in her presence. As a fifth grader, it just didn't seem natural to hear all about the joys of leg shaving and training bras. After all I was still playing with Barbie dolls and had absolutely no protrusions on my chest that required any sort of "training." (I still don't, truth be told.)

But the real discomfort set in when the woman began teaching my fellow girl scouts and I about childbirth and our reproductive organs. I don't know what grossed me out more - the frequent talk of blood or the word "uterus." Either way the whole situation disgusted me and when the cheerful woman asked if anyone had questions, I promptly raised my hand and announced that I was going to barf.

Without hesitation my Mom grabbed my hand and rushed me into the hallway and into the bathroom where I proceeded to blow chunks. As my lasagna dinner reappeared before me, my Mom uttered the words, "You will never be able to handle having babies." I did not disagree.

I've always known that I didn't want to have children. I played with Barbie dolls, not baby dolls, for instance, and my Barbie dolls never became mothers. In addition to the gross out factor of childbirth, babysitting every child within a 5 minute bike ride from my parent's house as a teen made me feel just as queasy about the idea of parenting. But of course I've spent most of my life in denial of this feeling. I mean, having kids is what we are supposed to do, right?

As a kid who grew up in a middle class suburban town, I was only ever exposed to what was deemed  "normal," and normal is basically defined as "what everybody else is doing." So I thought I'd grow up to get married and have kids because that's what "normal" people did. I even told my 7th grade English teacher that my life plan was to graduate college, get married at 24, then start having kids at 27. She looked at me square in the eyes and asked, "You think it's really gonna happen that way?" Well, yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't it?

 It wasn't until I was exposed to thought provoking adult literature at my liberal arts university that I discovered that marriage and family are options, not obligations. The Awakening by Kate Chopin specifically served as my epiphany and woke me up to a whole new world of possibilities for living my life that felt far more natural to me.

Still, I wasn't quite ready to accept that I wasn't the mommy type. For years I kept myself open to the possibility of marriage and family only if I met the right guy. Well, I've met plenty of right guys, but none of them ended up magically changing how I felt.

A close friend once urged me not to be so close-minded. But why would I force myself to feel the opposite way of something I was so sure of in my heart? I took the advice anyway and continued to date men that I knew wanted to be fathers one day. But I only ended up breaking hearts and becoming discouraged and extremely heartbroken myself. I've felt like a fake, a fraud, and a deceptive bitch telling boyfriends that I'd consider having children when my entire being was firmly rejecting the possibility.

I can comprehend why people cannot fathom the decisions of others, especially when something like having kids is such a strong biological pull for most women. But imagine, if you will, having no desire or biological pull to want to have a baby? At 37 years old, my womb is not crying out for a child. My womb has never even whispered the thought.

Just because I have no desire to have kids does not mean that I don't like children. I am obsessed with my nephew. I love babies just as much as anyone and I believe that holding a baby is the most peaceful feeling on earth. I love the small voices of toddlers and I love the hilarious things that come out of their mouths. I empathize with the struggles of fluctuating teenage hormones, as I am still very in tune with what it was like to be a teenager. But these are all things I can enjoy or appreciate without bearing any fruit myself.

I will offer a dose of honesty and admit that I do not like the loud chaos that children cause, even though I think it's crucial for kids to be wild and crazy and play their little hearts out. But truth be told, I didn't even like the chaos of children when I was one. I always preferred playing alone in quiet spaces and hanging out with the adults at family gatherings. Adult conversation has always been far more fascinating to me, even when I was too young to fully understand what was being discussed.

I also don't like the thought of being tethered to my home because I cannot go out if I don't have someone to babysit the kids. And I do not like the thought of leaving my house on a whim only with the condition of having to dress a baby in bulky winter gear and haul around an even bulkier stroller.

I don't want to help my kid learn long division, because I feel I already suffered enough math hell for several lifetimes.

I don't want to schlep my kids and their gear to sporting events in the cold and be forced to make idle chit chat with other parents. My parents loved going to my brother's games growing up, and my brother loves going to my nephew's games. Being parents is what they love and what they do well. And while I absolutely love seeing my nephew in action at his soccer games when I visit, I just cannot muster the same sort of enthusiasm for the idea of cheering on my own kids every Saturday.

Most of all, I don't like like the thought of sacrificing my alone time and already feel as if I don't have enough time to myself. That might sound a little crazy, but if you are introverted, you probably understand. My time alone is as important as the air I breathe.

Maybe you think I'm selfish, but I consider myself self-aware. I know in my heart of hearts that being a Mom would not positively add to my life. And with 7 billion people on this earth I'm fairly certain the world doesn't need my rugrats running around. But I respect the demanding role of motherhood to an infinite degree. I'm just not cut out for that role. And I'm okay with that.

Sometimes it irks me when I see things on Facebook regarding how, "People don't know what exhaustion is until they've had kids!" or shit like, "We didn't know what fulfillment was until we had kids!" Well, I can tell you that getting home at 10:30pm after a full day of physical activity and being "on," and then having to wake up at 4:30am to do it all over again is pretty fucking exhausting. The difference, I recognize, is that I do actually get to sleep in a couple times a week, and I'm beyond thankful for that. Perpetual sleep deprivation is definitely another reason I don't want children, but I commend the courageous men and women willing to sacrifice their slumber for 18 years or so.

Regarding fulfillment, I can assure you that having a child would not satisfy a missing piece to my life's puzzle. Because fulfillment comes from within and doesn't come from chasing happiness through external sources, there are many paths to fulfillment. Fulfillment stems from spending time doing what you love and living authentically, which is different for everyone. It's being at peace with who you are and the decisions you make regarding how to live your life.

Although I kind of hoped I'd be the rich, world-traveling aunt who could pay for her nephew's college education and could afford to take her whole family on vacations, I am not. But I've learned that being a single, childless, jet-setting city gal with plenty of disposable income is not the opposite of having a family.

I gain fulfillment from working out and being fit and healthy. I gain fulfillment from reading and learning. I gain fulfillment from being organized and having my shit together. I gain fulfillment from a full night of sleep and eating well. I gain fulfillment by setting new goals every year and working hard to reach them. I gain fulfillment at work by helping people become stronger and healthier than they were before they met me. I gain fulfillment from taking care of my pet bunnies. I gain fulfillment from spending Christmas with my family every year.

You see, my life is not lacking because I am not married and do not have children. There are a lot of things I love about my life that wouldn't even be possible if I were married with children.

I'm endlessly respectful of how anyone chooses to live their life, and all I want is for people to respect my path. At the very least, I hope people will understand that I am happy with the choices I've made for my life. And I hope that you are happy with the choices you've made for your life, understanding that amidst all of life's obligations, we are fortunate to have options.

What I Learned in 2015

Months ago my brother texted me some photos he pulled from a scrapbook I made for him when he graduated high school. One of the photos was of myself, my best friend Mandy, and my brother. He sent another of himself and his best friend Michael who passed away when we were in high school. I told him I didn’t remember when or where the photos were taken, to which he replied, “That’s why you need to see the movie Inside Out.” 

Without totally giving the plot away, I will only tell you that the movie is about an 11 year old girl and the various emotions living inside her head, along with the life-long memories stored in her brain. Up until a certain point as a child, the emotion of joy is what we experience most, and we tend to mostly reflect upon happy memories. But as the story unfolds we learn that as we grow older, the positive and negative events in our lives and our resulting emotions are far more complicated - and necessary. 

The movie helped me remember the importance of making memories, even though many of them naturally become dormant along the way. But for most of my life, I was obsessed with creating experiences for myself that I could learn from and recall fondly. As an adult in her late 30’s, however, I’ve had a tendency to get wrapped up in all the things I have to do just to exist that I forget the importance of relaxing, having fun, and taking the time to reflect upon positive and negative experiences in the form of journaling. 

In addition to making quality memories, learning to accept all of my emotions was the biggest lesson I learned in 2015. I discovered that it's okay to be sad, for instance. It’s okay to feel sadness and not be happy all of the time. In fact, I'm doing a serious disservice to myself when I don’t honor my emotions. Resisting negative feelings and experiencing guilt for not being happy all of the time only makes me feel worse. But it's impossible to feel happiness all of the time, and that's actually a good thing. Think about it. If humans were happy all of the time, would we ever find the motivation to challenge ourselves and become better people by trying new things? Nope.

Just as much as it’s okay to feel sadness, I re-learned that it’s okay to have FUN! In fact, “play time” is crucial to my well being, as it is for every human. We live in a society that values being busy all of the time. Being overbooked, overwhelmed, and chronically exhausted is a lifestyle considered tantamount to a life balanced with hard work and leisure in this country. Even though I learned to resist the toxic concept of a “go, go, go” lifestyle, I haven’t totally let go of the guilt that I’ve been conditioned to feel anytime I’m doing anything other than working or doing chores. But play time is important for a healthy lifestyle. Play time in the form of drawing, sprinting up a hill, dancing, painting, etc. fosters creativity and relieves stress. It allows us to be present while getting lost in the moment. It allows us to focus on the task at hand, while simultaneously helping us figure out solutions to problems unrelated to the task at hand.

2015 was the year of understanding and honoring my emotions. This past year definitely had some rough patches, but there were also a lot of highlights to balance things out. I learned even more about myself and the world this year than the previous year, and as long as I continue to learn and grow every year that I’m alive, I will consider myself fulfilled.