I'll Be Fine Without My Hypothetical Children

Note: I debated writing this piece, letting it sit in my drafts for almost a month. The conversation around choosing to be child-free will keep evolving, and I aim to add support and acceptance—not just for myself but for women around the world who decide to do the same. There is rarely a black-and-white answer to these things. For some, this isn't even a dilemma worth discussing. However, for women like me, these decisions affect many parts of our lives. These are raw thoughts from within, and my purpose is to highlight yet another reason why women decide not to have children.

I was in a doctor's office, barely 20 years old. This had to be the fourth time I met a doctor to discuss my very irregular periods after three months of not getting them. I first discovered the 'issue' a year after my first period. I was 13 and bleeding consistently for almost three weeks. After a referral to the women's hospital, tests, and speculations, I was told my body was just "getting used" to having periods and that it would get into the rhythm of things "soon."

Seven years later, it still didn't.

I asked the doctor if this meant it would affect my ability to have children later on. She smiled and told me she had a patient with similar issues who managed to have four kids. Her answer was somewhat reassuring—I was not infertile— so that was good. She asked me to come back if my period was late for more than three months.

The following year, my body skipped seven months of menstruation. I knew I was not pregnant, but I feared something more sinister, like cervical cancer. After a referral to the women's hospital and multiple tests, I was given a clean bill of health. They never discovered the reason for my late periods. It was speculated to be a hormonal issue, and I was advised to manage my weight. I was 50kg with a BMI of 20.

A health scare was always a good reason to be fearful, but I remained upbeat. After all, my aunt and grandma succumbed to cancer due to a lack of education, irregular check-ups and a lack of vaccines. I would be fine, I thought. They had children, so I could too.

I always thought I wanted children. I even had names for them. I was pragmatic: I prepared names for both girls and boys, just in case. The names evolved depending on the language I was obsessed with then. The names always included an Arab/Muslim/Malay name, an Indonesian name, and a "Western" name because I wanted my child to reflect the multiculturalism I grew up with. I was (and still am) very pretentious.

Being a woman raised in a somewhat conservative Malay household, I received the full "when you get married" treatment growing up. When I was 8, I told my aunt I didn't enjoy cooking. She replied, "You don't like cooking, you don't like sewing, how are you going to get married like this?"

I was 8. I didn't even enjoy food in general.

Everything I was trained to do—from household chores to preparing meals—was with wife-ability in mind. And that comes packaged with motherhood. I mean, what else were you supposed to do with your God-given reproductive system?

The turning point for me was when I witnessed a woman breaking down after her third failed IVF attempt. I remember going home that night thinking if having children is not meant for me, then I won't go out of my way to try. I don't think I could cope with failure stemming from an issue that is not even my fault. There have been many women throughout history who didn't have kids, and the human race survived. It will be alright with one less woman (me) popping out a child.

I finally accepted that I am childfree at 29. Watching people around me having children, losing their sense of self, dealing with marital problems exacerbated by having children, and reading a book about motherhood regrets really sealed it for me. There are many things to consider before bearing a child, and the ever-changing nature of the world means that I need to be grounded for myself and another human being, which is too much work for me.

When I was volunteering in Cambodia and Laos at 14 and 19, I chose to do "ground" work like construction instead of teaching English. It should have been a clue. I liked interacting with the children - they are cute, and their innocence opened my eyes to perspectives I tended to forget. But extended periods daily? No.

And I roll my eyes whenever people tell me it will be different when it's my child. How do you know? Can that be guaranteed? No. There was even a possibility that I might dislike my hypothetical kid.

I found that the best part of social media has been older women sharing their lives lived unapologetically. It's sad to see people dragging them in the comments, but it's comforting to know that women even older than my parents have embraced a child-free life and are thriving.

And hopefully, I will thrive too.