Yes or No? Explain....
Over the past few months, I have been getting sick of the constant message from society and the media, that if a woman doesn't have children or want children that something must be wrong with them. I have heard so many comments about me, because at the age of 34, I don't have kids.
I've been called Gay, Selfish and have been told that something must be wrong with me. I've also been told that I will change my mind later and "regret" not having children. Even though even as a child, I knew I didn't want kids. I was never one to play with baby dolls like my friends. Why play with dolls, when I had real horses to ride?

And the message has just gotten worse, I heard someone state, that once you become a parent you want better things for the world. So like us without children could give a rat's ass??? This whole I'm a better person because I have a child thing really gets to me. I'm tired the message that "I'm less of a person because I don't want kids" being pushed in my face.
Yeah, yeah, I'm on a rant. I thought that I was alone in feeling this way.. but found some articles, that say exactly how I feel.
Childless by Choice
by

Cynthia Burgess



Living as I do in the middle of suburbia I am as misplaced as a water lily in the Mojave Desert. I am a woman who has chosen to remain childless. In this land of daycare centers, mini-vans and soccer teams I find myself surrounded by mothers whose schedules revolve, quite naturally, around their children.
When people first hear of my deliberately childless status, it bewilders, dismays or offends them. They mistakenly conclude that I selfishly opted for Caribbean cruises and cocktail parties over the love of a child. Rarely do they understand my choice.
Inevitably, I'm asked to explain my decision. When I do, I'm eyed suspiciously then asked: "Do you hate children?" "Don't you have any maternal instinct?" "Is it a physical problem?" "Don't you want immortality through your kids?" Then they elaborate: "You'll live to regret that decision." "You'll realize your mistake in time, then you can have one or adopt."
I try not to sound like the selfish, unloving egoist they think I am as I explain: Though I like kids, motherhood is not a job I ever wanted, just as I didn't want to become an attorney or a grocery clerk. And no, there is nothing "wrong" with me or my husband, this is simply our decision.
I couldn't envision a child as someone to care for me in old age--a reason for making babies more popular than you might think. Neither could I see a child as a recipient of my worldly possessions or a guarantee of immortality. I believe immortality is more than a matter of biology; each individual must earn immortality in his or her own right.
Early on I knew I didn't want the responsibility or tedium of dragging kids out of bed every day for school, making lunches and chauffeuring them around town to birthday parties and dental appointments. The job description for motherhood did not suit my personality. I also recognized that in this deafening world, I require long stretches of solitude for happiness.
Since every choice in life is a tradeoff, I was aware that no matter which side of the fence I walked, there would be lost opportunities. Thirteen years later, I have no doubt I made the right personal decision.
Our culture values children and sees them as essential to the good life as a big screen TV or a ski vacation. Everyone, down to my best friend's mother, expected me to have kids. Society bombards us with the idea that children are a given. The message is everywhere--from Madison Avenue advertising to weekly television sitcoms, in film and magazines. It's so ingrained in our psyches that it's difficult to imagine other equally fulfilling alternatives.
The notion of remaining childless makes people uneasy. In part, that's because our sense of community is based on our sense of family. When you tell people that children aren't for you, they feel you're threatening society as a whole. It's not easy for them to see it as just a personal choice.
A childless life is seen as incomplete and unfulfilled. However, it is entirely possible for a childless woman to live as fulfilled a life as any mother. There are as many definitions and degrees of fulfillment as there are women, but very simply speaking, if you are satisfied with your life and have achieved happiness, then you are fulfilled.
Some childless women find gratification in a strong marriage. For others, this fullness of life is born of time and energy to pursue personal enthusiasms, achieve career goals or work within the larger family of community. Whatever the means, fulfillment comes with realizing our own human potential.
But fulfillment doesn't necessarily mean a life that's full. How gratified are mothers who juggle hectic family schedules, who run their children from swimming lessons to dance class to gymnastics? Their constant frustration and weariness make me wonder.
Though my daily schedule is radically different from any mother I know, the rest of my life isn't. Yet, I often feel like a social outsider since I'm culturally defined as odd and peripheral because of my divergent choice. I sense a marginality in social situations with other women; women I'm separated from only by the length of an umbilical cord.
Even so, why do I always find myself having to explain that children are not every woman's reason to be? Why must I always justify my life as meaningful when mothers aren't asked to do the same? I've resigned myself to the fact that for at least as long as I'm of childbearing age, I'll be asked to do so--but I suspect I'll be defending my choice for the rest of my life.



Are women without children devalued?


By DIANE GLASS
Atlanta Journal-Constitution Columnist

While inspecting the pink or blue indicator of a pregnancy test, the woman in the commercial is rarely shown wiping perspiration from her forehead, signaling relief. Women are supposed to desire motherhood.
Telling someone you don't want to have children is like burning the American flag. It's your right, but a lot of people hate you for it. After astonishment for your misguided decision, there is sometimes amazement, followed by pity. Yet despite the negative social cues, many women, without apology, are remaining child-free today. These women haven't undergone surgical alteration with penile implants, despite the 'overbearing' opinion that childbearing is requisite entry into womanhood. In fact, more and more women are giving more careful consideration to the prospect of parenting, which is more than many parents do.
Ask a random sampling of parents why they had children. If you don't get a searching look, you may hear a spattering of reasons that include "It just happened" or "It's a piece of immortality." Sounds like a lack of forethought and selfishness, yet we don't criticize parents for their self-centered choices. But we do label child-free women selfish for not choosing motherhood.
This is in despite of the fact that many child-free women base their decision on years of contemplation. That's anything but selfish. As hard as it may be to comprehend, some women do not want to be mothers. These women understand, and hold sacred, the monumental task of mothering well. And don't forget that the woman making that choice ignores the intense social pressure to dive straight into the romantic bliss of ignorance. Since the time we are little girls, we are inculcated into motherhood with Betsy Wetsy dolls, Easy Bake Ovens and Barbie dolls.
You would think that any mother could understand this decision. Parenthood is more than a full-time job; you're only a worker for eight hours a day, but you're a parent all the time. But for many, nonconformity amounts to insurrection, and remaining child-free is seen as a protest when it is just as simple as a choice -- a positive choice. And although many women may not choose to remain child-free, it is not the dreary, solitary life of an old maid.
Having the courage to live a child-free existence takes more than a little endurance and a lot of fortitude. Even those closest to a child-free woman will assume she 'hates' children. Co-workers may assume she is infertile. Others may label her gay. She often must endure these imprecations from her own friends and family. The child-free are met with reactions ranging from bewilderment and pity to outright anger. It's the 'Who do you think you are?' attitude that many people feel when they come across someone who decides to go down another road, less populated.