On Being Single and Child-Free

Last evening was one of my favorite kinds. I wandered the West Village after enjoying a drink with friends. After discovering that my favorite little French place was closed, I decided to park myself at the bar at Blue Ribbon Brasserie. I had been looking forward to dinner with myself all day.

It was not long after I ordered a glass of bubbly and an appetizer that a young woman and her parents were seated at the bar. The father, an older man who appeared to be in his late 70s, sat to the right of me. To the right of him sat the mother and daughter engrossed in conversation with each other. Barely a minute passed before he leaned over in an attempt to chat with me.

Him: “What do you do for a living?”. He didn’t introduce himself nor did he ask my name.

Me: “I work in healthcare.”

Him: “Are you a nurse?”

Me: “No. I’m the Chief Operating Officer at a public hospital here in New York.” Having recently read Harriet Lerner’s Dance of Deception where she speaks about how women are taught to underemphasize their accomplishments, I decided to be more direct.

Him: “Oh.” He looked confused and disinterested. There was a long pause. “I work in waste…we’re visiting from Wisconsin. Our daughter lives here.” I nodded. “Are you married?”

Me: (Inside voice: “WTF?”) I looked over at the daughter perhaps in an attempt to appeal to a fellow woman of my generation. She made no eye contact. She was still engrossed in conversation with her mother. “No”, I replied.

Him: “Do you have children?”

Me: (Inside voice: “WTAF?”) “No. I’m happily single and child-free. I’m not so much into convention.”

Him: There was an awkward pause followed by an eventual, “Well, good for you.”

He seemed unaccustomed to my unusual responses. I had so many questions that I did not ask. Why do you feel entitled to know anything personal about me? Why do you assume I am a nurse? Why do you have no further questions after I told you I am a COO? Why does it matter to a total stranger from another state whether I’m married or have children? Why are your wife and daughter turned away from you? Do you regret getting married and having children? Would you ever admit it out loud if you do?

Like most, if not all women, the direct and indirect messaging I received since childhood was always that my primary purpose in life was to get married and have children. That messaging was sent from religion, family, friends, parents of friends, strangers and schools. That messaging came strongly from other women my age who were taught the same and adamantly defend the construct. It wasn’t until my 30s that I started to interrogate whether I really wanted it or whether I was told for so long that I wanted it that I didn’t know the difference.

Throughout my 20s, while others were searching for their future spouses, I didn’t care to spend my time dating. Despite the fact that I had meaningful, fulfilling relationships with men and women, I did it anyway because I felt like I was supposed to. By my mid to late 30s, I consciously chose to not have children or get married. I decided I loved my life as it was. I spent the next decade rationalizing, explaining and defending that choice to married people with children. The lines of questioning and corresponding comments were consistent. Society rehearses them. It’s like the longest running show on Broadway. Women who don’t want children are selfish. You’ll meet the right one when you’re not looking. There’s no perfect guy. Maybe you’re too picky. You should lower your expectations. Have you thought about freezing your eggs? You can always adopt. Your clock is ticking. What if you regret if later? Being a mother is the most rewarding job in the world. Not every woman is meant to be a mother. You would be such a good mother. Who’s going to take care of you when you’re older? I no longer engage in such conversations.

When I traveled abroad in 2018, I was in awe of the women of various ages I met in different countries who openly shared their desire to be free from this social construct. In Israel, I befriended a 30-year old woman from Brazil – a solo traveler living her dream helping farmers globally to develop zero waste strategies. My AirBnB host in Tokyo was single, child-free woman in her 40s who wanted so badly to move to the US so that she could be free of all the pressure to get married and have children. In Morocco, I met a 20-something year old concert pianist from Paris who expressed her complete disinterest in marriage or children and instead shared her dreams of a successful musical career.

When people don’t make the same life choices as us, we often rationalize their decisions in a way that protects our own. The many stories people tell themselves about single, child-free women are not actually about those single, child-free women. The decisions to be partnered, single, have children or live child-free are personal ones. We live in a time where those rights are systematically being stripped away from women in our own country and around the world. I feel compelled to share this experience in the hopes that it pushes us all to reconsider how we view gender, how we view those who identify as female and how we intentionally or unintentionally project our own unconscious learnings onto others. My experience last night reinforced the need for that call to action.

To be clear, it not my purpose to get married and have children. It is my purpose to ensure that one day, society will view women like me the way I view myself – as more than enough.