Prejudices Against the Child-Free

Usually I must have something give me a reason to rant before I do so, and that is no exception today. Think of the word "rant," however; a negative aura surrounds that word, as if in order to rant you must be pretty ticked off. That's not the case for me today. I had a positive experience revolving around being child-free and making this known to a parent yesterday.

As I mentioned in the post above, it has recently become clear that my husband has the ugly grasp of a personality disorder. I am not going to sit around and wait while this begins to control us, so we have been going to counseling to learn how to deal with this and how to get things back to their normally perfect state. Yesterday was my individual session, while next week will be my husband's, and the week after we will both get to hear answers to certain questions that we gave the counselor. I would find this hilariously fun if it weren't for the circumstances, but despite the situation, I am having fun with this. I can't wait to hear Tim's answers to the questions I answered yesterday, and I'm already guessing as to what his answers could be.

At the together session just a week and a day ago, we were told that out of thousands of couples the counselor has seen over the fifty years he has been doing this, we work together as a couple the best. And yesterday, I had to answer some questions about God: three words that describe Him, and one word that definitely would NOT describe Him. After I thought for quite awhile on the latter (after not having any trouble giving all sorts of words out for friends, family members, and Tim himself), I finally said, "God is everywhere. I guess I'll have to be standard with this and say that God is definitely not evil." The counselor, an 80+ cute Methodist minister, looked at me in awe, and replied, "All these years, and you are one of three people to tell me that. I am impressed."

Okay, so not so standard. I have come to appreciate all the compliments I'm getting from this adorable old man. Tim and I both told him that one reason we are together and could care less if we were the only ones on the earth (actually, that would be wonderful 99% of the time) was because of the fact we are such radicals and we share these views with each other. Both of us are child-free libertarian vegans, not to mention straight-edge, and you just don't find that often.

At the session yesterday, with pen and paper in hand, the counselor asked me, "What are your personal goals for your marriage? Do you plan on having a family?" For any child-free person, they absolutely hate getting this question, and for two reasons. For one, I already have my family, and we are perfect the way we are. For two, answering the question as a child-free individual just does not end well in the majority of situations. Yet, I had to answer truthfully, so I replied, "No, actually. Tim and I don't mind kids, but we definitely don't want any of our own."

The counselor's response was simple. "Oh, okay." Nodding, he added, "Another thing that you share that is different."

What? Just that? And said in an understanding, caring manner? No. I expected more prejudice from someone who isn't child-free, and a minister, at that! I expected a scolding on the blessings of kids, how the very point of marriage is to reproduce (and what, did you actually think you went into marriage for love? Bah!). Or, come on, at least give me this: "Who will take care of you when you're older?"

Here I was, ready to be defensive, and the man was understanding. I was grateful, but shocked. Rarely are people understanding of what is different, especially when it revolves around something like kids, where everyone must like kids and want to be with them 24/7 or you simply aren't human. I have been scolded like a child for being child-free before, and from a whole variety of people who really shouldn't have a say in whether my reproductive organs do their complete "job" or not. When I lived with my parents, we had a housekeeper who was adament about getting me to have kids. She had one child herself and was a single mother, and her son was getting into trouble all the time with the law, and threatened once to call the cops on her because she threw a dinner plate at him. With a background like that, where do I sign up to be a parent? Seriously, though, she once said to me, "When a little child comes piddle-paddling up to you and tugs on your shirt and says, 'Mommy, Mommy!' it's the best feeling in the world." My response was a look of disgust, quite frankly, and I said, "I'm sorry, but that would be hell for me. I'd have to turn that kid around and find a different Mommy for it to bother."

What comes of this? Well, when you have an argument between a child-free individual and a parent, obviously the child-free are going to come out of it looking like horrible people. They are against children? How can that be? (Insert audience gasp here.) I don't want children for a super long list of reasons. One night in my senior year of high school, I skipped reading to write a list. I passed 100 before I got bored and started to read again. Yet, when asked why they DO want kids, people tend to have to think about it before they give a reason or two. Because...they just do? They want a Little Me? They don't want to be lonely when they are older? They want to pass on the genes. They think they would be a good parent, and they want to put that to the test. Wait...and the child-free are called selfish? Why are the reasons for parenting me, me, me? I have met one person in my entire life whose reasoning for having children was not selfish, and she hasn't had kids yet. But my point is this: it doesn't matter the reasons, nor why a person has them. If you want kids, it is of no one's say to tell you differently. The same goes for the opposite: I don't want kids, and instead of being anti-kid and telling me to have them when I'm certainly not going to be a good mother and subjecting a human life to that, why can't you all leave it be?

Sigh. I simply want my beliefs to be respected. I never push my beliefs at others and I wish I could expect the same. I worked in a diet office once, and I let people know I was vegan, but offered nothing further. I never asked people why they ate meat, didn't they know that 100% of recorded anemic cases are from people who eat meat and dairy and NOT vegans, etc., etc.? Because I left others alone, I expected similar treatment. One diet tech in particular did not let me go about it. He had a different set of questions everyday for me, disrespecting my beliefs and my reasons for having them. Twice, I proved him wrong about a nutritional subject (the subjects of, particularly, peanut butter vs. sunbutter, and the fact that soy is the only plant complete protein), and only after the latter was solved and I again was the victor did he leave me alone.

Why do those who are different have to continually explain their beliefs? Why does my being vegan or child-free hurt you? Why, if I ask "Why do you eat meat" or "Why in the world did you have kids?!" am I looked at as if I'm alien, but the opposite questions are completely okay?

I am a radical because I have found both through experience and fact that being the norm is the worst you could possibly be. That is why I am vegan, libertarian, AND child-free. Each has years of research and experience following up to my strong belief, and I have found each to be a highly intelligent decision (the vegan belief in general, the other two are intelligent and tailored to myself, of course). People, on the whole, are lost creatures that follow whatever is trendy. As pessimistic as that sounds, it is wholly true, and I strive to be different. The point? I strive to not be you, and not be in the norm. So don't try it. Thank you.