The Duality of the Modern Woman

How do we reconcile embracing freedom and self-agency with the ever-present cultural demand for perpetuating the species?

I've grappled with this challenge over the past two years. You don't have to be a homemaker to feel strongly about the prospect of procreation -- I've met otherwise diehard feminists who laud the praises of motherhood. Of course, it's not for everyone, but how do you know if you fall in the category of the Abstainers, the Electors, or the Obligates?

The easiest to discuss are the Obligates, or women who are coerced (literally or figuratively) into motherhood by strict gender roles and expectations, or biologically prevented from bearing children despite a desperate desire to do so. I'll put aside those who are coerced by physical or biological factors because their consideration of the pros and cons of parenthood had no impact on their reality. There was no option. There was only compliance with the growth of fetus(es) in their uteri, or lack thereof, regardless of whether their hearts and minds were on board. Within the category of Obligates, I would group those who, while not being physically compelled to bear children, don't feel empowered to explore the possibility of dissent. An illustrative example may be a female raised in a traditional nuclear family with conservative values, religious or otherwise, in which the prospect of not marrying and bearing children is tantamount to blasphemy.

I'm not an Obligate -- for which I'm eternally grateful. While my mother pressured me (without malicious intent) to pursue the nuclear family model, I was able to reason with her that it may not be for me. She continues to mourn the daughter I could have been, and the grandchildren she could have had, but this is her private vigil to which I am not compelled to bear witness.

The next category is the Electors, who I feel I encounter when even a whiff of the topic of child-rearing is in the air. Yes, Electors can vary in their passionate love/hate relationship with motherhood, but I have to admit I've met more manic zealots than I expected. Familiar catchphrases include: "It's love at first sight", "Being a mother is my purpose in life", and "You'll love being pregnant, just like I did." Anyone whose expressed even minor doubt about children I'm sure has heard some variation of the above from an Elector. Honestly, I suffer whiplash with Electors who go from discussing endlessly sleepless nights, grisly diaper-changing incidents, and ear-splitting temper tantrums to celebrating first words, praising lessons learned, and singing the joys of parenting.

I can safely say I don't fall in the Elector category either. The prospect of pregnancy terrifies me. I like having my free time be my own, with as few obligations as possible. Travel is an important life goal for my spouse and I. Not to mention, I've never even liked children. As a child on the playground, I didn't get along with the other kids. When I was a teen, I didn't babysit -- I dog-sat. And now, as an adult with several young nieces and nephews, I don't know how to be around them. Are they mini-adults? Not exactly -- they're too volatile and naive to be treated as an intellectual equal. Are they mindless oafs? Usually not, as they grow into children they become very opinionated and soak up everything you're saying like little sponges. The consequences of this exposure are unknown, at least until they get older. In this way, I find children quite fragile.

So, that leaves us with the final category of the Abstainers. Those who have considered the possibility of having children and politely (or vehemently) declined. I've enocuntered Abstainers ranging from those who value their independence but shower their young family members with love and affection, to those who have an often unsettling distaste for infants and children. In my exploration of this category, it's hard not to remark on the prevalence of a history of sexual abuse among women who find themselves no longer desiring children. I'm not sure if the prospect of this being a selection factor comforts or saddens me. I sincerely hope that the prevalence of sexual abuse in the general population is lower than I've observed in the child-free community, but I'm afraid to say it probably isn't.

The question of whether to bear children is a privilege, and I recognize that. I'm very fortunate to have access to birth control such that I can control whether or not new humans are borne from my body. I also wonder whether it's more of an abuse of that privilege to have children anyway (though our planet is on a crash-course for species-level extinction, and population control may slow our descent) or to not have children at all (as an educated woman, is it my moral obligation to pass on my knowledge? Can't I do that in other ways? What makes me so special?). For those of you who have been screaming this whole time about fostering and adoption - I hear you. Definitely, if I liked children and couldn't have one, I would go that route. I have a whole other rant about adoption among white parents but that's another topic. Regretably, I have the opposite issue - I don't like children but I'm pretty sure I could have one if I wanted to.

As it stands, I've put the issue on the back burner. Without judging anyone else's lives, I believe bringing a child into the world that I don't want with my whole being would be irresponsible to that child and to myself. There are few decisions in life that are truly irreversible, and it feels like having a child, especially as the mother, is one of those. I revel in the freedom of choice that I have, the freedom to choose my life and who is in it, the freedom to protect my body from undue stress and harm, and the freedom to choose a partner who supports my agency. While I'm told my biological clock is ticking, all I hear is precious silence.