Hola and welcome to Where on Planet Earth! In case you got here by accident and are not yet a subscriber, sign up below! For more visuals follow us on IG @whereonplanetearth
Lately, I’ve been feeling a deep sense of gratitude for our childfree life - an almost quiet contentment that feels directly tied to our decision not to have children. The truth is, for us, it wasn’t a difficult one - not that we didn’t spend a few drunken nights debating the pros and cons, but it was never a grueling, multi-year conversation. We were both leaning that way, so when we finally landed on it, it just felt right. It made sense for us.
There were many reasons we chose to be childfree (I wrote about that a while back here), but the core one wasn’t about the environment, politics, or our careers - it was simply that we liked our life as it was. We valued our independence and flexibility, and we wanted the freedom to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. We didn’t want to worry too much about money or have to work until we were 60. We wanted the option to live anywhere in the world. We wanted fewer worries and a simpler life - the time and resources to pursue passions, whatever those might be (there are infinite options!). Other reasons added to the pile, of course, but you can always justify anything one way or the other. The truth is, independence was the core reason for us.
To be clear, I know we’re giving up something, and for many, this might be the most important experience in a human’s life. And we’re okay with that! We’re all giving up experiences all the time. Parents are also giving up a life without children - they’ll never know this level of freedom - and that’s okay too. Every path comes with its trade-offs, and I think real peace comes from owning yours fully.
Every single childfree person I’ve met is happy and fulfilled - not bitter or regretful, as so many expect (or even hope). I’m sure regrets happen, but you know what else happens? Parents regretting having children or longing for the life they left behind. It’s just less talked about, buried under the weight of what being a “good parent” is supposed to mean.
I’ve written about being childfree (and shameless) before, but felt compelled to do so again for two reasons. The first is how often my partner and I remark that, with every passing year, we feel more validated and happy with our decision. We feel truly fortunate *not to have children* - and I think that’s worth celebrating and sharing, especially for those out there who need some reassurance: a childfree life can be a truly wonderful and fulfilling one. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.
The second reason is that it still surprises me how much of the world doesn’t understand this choice, and often pushes against it, usually in passive-aggressive ways. I recently posted a photo of me holding the newborn of good friends, and the amount of messages I got mentioning that I “look good as a mother,” or were shocked I was carrying a baby, or said I was “finally practicing,” or other near-sighted comments, was baffling. I know they’re not trying to be mean or offensive, but that’s like excusing outdated behavior because “they don’t know better.” Everyone can learn and grow, and realize that what once was okay no longer is, because as a society we’ve (in some ways) progressed.
Sometimes I think people react this way because our choice challenges the default narrative: that parenthood is the only path to purpose. But here’s what I want to say, loud and clear, for those in the back:
Not having children doesn’t mean you don’t like them, or don’t want to help raise them, or build deep, meaningful relationships with them. Seems obvious, but it’s worth shouting from the rooftops, because this stereotype refuses to die.
Not having children doesn’t mean I don’t think I could be a good mother. I know we would be good parents if we chose this - but we didn’t! You’re not going to convince me to have a baby by telling me how good a mother I’d be or that “we’re the type of couple who should have children.”
“Never say never.” “You might regret it.” “Make sure you consider all angles.” These are simply condescending comments. They imply that you think we haven’t thought it through, that you know us better than we know ourselves, and that you’re somehow more enlightened (usually because you have children). We have. You don’t. You aren’t.
Do not - and I repeat, do not - feel sorry for childfree people or tell them “you’ll never know true love.” We’re doing just fine, thanks.
In Puerto Vallarta, we’re surrounded by childfree friends. They don’t define themselves by that label, but it’s clear this decision shapes how they live - how they spend their time, use their money, and pursue what lights them up. There’s a shared ease in those friendships, a mutual understanding that life can be rich and meaningful in many forms. Honestly, witnessing the fulfillment and happiness of childfree people is a beautiful thing in a world where this lifestyle is still uncommon, judged, and frowned upon.
We’d choose the life we have now - and the one we’ll hopefully have for many decades to come - over and over again. My hope is that someday, a childfree life will be celebrated just as openly as any. Until then, we’ll keep living ours fully, freely, and without apology.
Agree with so much of this but it's also perfectly expressed
Great article, Carla. I especially loved this: Every path comes with its trade-offs, and I think real peace comes from owning yours fully.
💯💯💯💯 true!