10 Reasons Why I Don’t Want Kids

why I don't want kids

Pictures of babies usually makes people go “awwww!”

Presumably because it fills them with a warm and fuzzy giddiness.

The same kind I have instead associated with dogs and puppies (especially Bub).

As a kid, I didn’t want to play with dolls.

Why the hell would anyone want to play with a baby?!

As far as I could tell, babies only did three different things. They could cry, sleep and shit themselves.

Seriously, didn’t kids with siblings already have a real-life version of that?!

To this day, I completely fail to understand the appeal.

Myself? I had a giant suitcase of Barbies to play with instead.

Barbies were glamorous and grown-up, which I enjoyed envisioning myself as when I was a kid. I wanted to be a gorgeous girl like her, with lots of clothes and a killer pink limousine!

As a teenager, I was equally as uninterested in babysitting any of my younger cousins.

Well, fast-forward to being an adult, and not much has changed when it comes to my feelings about babies and kids.

I’ll be thirty years old in less than a year and I still don’t have any of my own (unless you’re enlightened enough to count Bub, which you should be).

On that note, let’s countdown the top ten reasons why I don’t want kids.

#10: No Interest Whatsoever

Similar to the subject of cooking, I just don’t have any interest in children or raising them.

Would it be cool to know how to make a recipe or two?


But not cool enough to make the process of learning them feel worth it to me.

#9: The Adoption Argument

You hear this one ALL the time in the context of animals and pets.

Why pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to buy a dog from a breeder, when so many rescue animals are sitting in shelters waiting to be adopted or put down?

Considering I’d do best with kids over the age of eight or nine, adoption makes more sense.

And no way will I be allowed to adopt a human child in this lifetime (thank the Gods)!

#8: Potential for Tragedy

Look, I don’t know about you, but…the thought of having a child who is diagnosed with cancer at the age of four years old doesn’t exactly sound like a scenario I could survive.

Know what I’m saying?

There are just too many ways for things to go horribly wrong, most of which are totally outside of our control.

#7: Leaving a Legacy

Children are often thought of as someone’s legacy.

Some living abstraction of that person and the new one they created, which will carry the parent’s genes into the future.

I guess that’s cool and all, but I can think of better things to leave behind.

I will become immortal through the words I write, the stories I send out into the world. I’ll be kept alive each time a stranger reads them for the first time.

You, on the other hand, will likely be forgotten by your own family after a generation or two.

#6: I Just DON’T Like Them

There are some things in life that I kind of just hate.

Country music, sports and kids, to name a few.

You might think that’s awful, but my idea of awful is seeing the exasperation of some poor woman on the bus who can’t seem to console her screaming toddler.

I’ve never envied one.

#5: Fucked Up Parents

Although I was fortunate enough to be raised by two wonderful grandparents, my biological parents happen to be two of the biggest pieces of human trash on the planet.

Suffice to say, I know firsthand how lovely life can be when both of the assholes who gave it to you are worthless, selfish, abusive breeds of scum.

Even worse is the inevitable realization that they probably only intended to cause a fraction of all the misery they are responsible for.

No. Thank. You.

#4: Disgusted by Pregnancy

Trust me when I say, it’s NOT just the thought of pregnancy that disgusts me.

With six abortions under my belt (pun intended), I think it’s safe to say that I’ve given the whole thing its due.

NOT willing to earn any new stretch marks or destroy my vagina for the sake of having kids, sorry.

#3: Worst Demographics EVER

I mean this in the most literal sense possible.

I am unemployed, uneducated, unstable.

Addicted to drugs.

Poor credit, no bank account, no savings. Not a fucking dollar to my name!

No career, no degree, no employment or rental history.

No fucks given about the future, frankly.

#2: Finding ‘Mr. Right’

How do I say this?

Guys who want to ‘start a family’ aren’t really my type.

I’m attracted to people more like myself, who live in a confusing chaos somewhere between adolesence and adulthood.

Some women don’t concern themselves much over who the father of their baby is, or whether he will be around to help raise them.

I am NOT one of those women.

#1: Lack of Consent

Most importantly, I do not want children because the world has mostly been a disappointment and I will not force someone into it without their permission.

The fact is, no one is asked if they want to be born.

I often envision being asked, then given a momentary glimpse of life before having to decide.

I would have taken a pass, personally.

Why I Hate Being an Adult

I have a problem.

Trying to pinpoint exactly when it began is difficult, but I’ve narrowed it down to somewhere between the ages of 22 and 23.

That was five or six years ago now.

Since then, it has only gotten worse and lately it feels as if the whole thing is coming to a head.

But before that, it was okay to be who I am.

And I was always very self-aware and knew that person well.

Free Spirited & Spontaneous

I’d say from the ages of 17-23 I was the kind of person who lived one moment to the next, going in whatever direction life happened to take me.

I was pretty  much as spontaneous as someone could be.

I didn’t bother making plans because there was no way in hell I’d end up following through with them.

Too many unknown variables were always looming between me and being somewhere on time for something.

I might pass out after days without any sleep. I could stay asleep for twelve or more hours when that happened.

I might go see a client and if we were good friends, I might lose track of time after the sex and spend hours there just talking with him or messing around doing something to pass the time.

Back then, anything seemed possible. Probably because it was still possible.

If someone had asked me

“Where do you see yourself five years from now?”

I would have laughed and responded with something like

“Who the hell knows?!”

I didn’t have goals or any idea of what I wanted to become.

What I did know was what interested me, what I was passionate about and that love mattered more than anything else.

Caring is Everything

When I say love, I use it as an all encompassing term for any expression towards another human being which makes them feel like someone else cares about them in some capacity.

Giving people hope when they felt like they had none.

Offering someone comfort at a moment they needed it most and otherwise would not have had any.

Sacrificing what you have when someone has less and it won’t hurt you.

I loved falling in love with new people, so I did it often.

Indeed, these relationships with friends and lovers were the most precious aspects of my life and I felt fortunate to be a part of them.

As for relationships around this time, I would pore over lovers and give, give, give to friends. It’s odd looking back at things.

So much of my energy went into various efforts all with the same objective: to show the people who mattered to me that I loved them and cared about them.

Not “Marriage Material”

Unlike most people, I could never really pick a single person to devote the rest of my life to and focus only on them. Not in a world full of broken souls who need some small confirmation that another soul cares.

Funnily enough, caring about so many people usually backfired.

Besides, I always thought it was foolish to emotionally invest everything in one person. I’ve never met anyone I would trust that much.

All the work I put into proving I cared for friends and lovers ended up creating almost as much doubt as reassurance.

If only I had been able to find someone who could just accept me and everything about me, but that’s a tall order when you can’t succeed in being monogamous, you won’t quit working as a hooker and yet neither of these things mean you love someone any less.

Still, they just can’t understand it.

Maybe they don’t understand it because it’s bull shit.

Maybe I’ve never loved or trusted anyone enough and that’s the real problem…but I don’t think so.

I think these things about me were just deal breakers for most people, which I kind of understand.

Hobbies & Interests

When I was about eighteen, I became very interested in web design and I spent endless hours tinkering around with various experiments as I taught myself how to make websites.

I just remember the magic of making small edits to existing designs and seeing the corresponding visual changes.

I was hooked.

After I’d played around with things created by other people enough, I started to make my own and it felt like some kind of superpower. It was exciting and I loved it.

I still do.

In terms of what I enjoyed, I was simple then just like I’m simple now.

I liked getting high, hanging out with my friends, the little light of my life named Bub (my dog), messing around online, playing games, shopping for clothes, speeding down the freeway, writing in my journal and having sex.

Not much has changed, ha!

The Finality of Death

But in all seriousness, here is what I envy most about the person I used to be.

Back then, I honestly could have died at any moment in time and I would have felt okay about the life I had lived up to that moment.

I can’t say that now…

About five or six years ago, a sense of my own mortality began to set in and the idea of dying suddenly overwhelmed me.

What was the point of anything if all we had to look forward to, ultimately, was death?

How could anything matter at all?

Leaving a Legacy

A hundred years after someone dies, they might as well not have existed because no one will even remember them. Unless you’re an Albert Einstein or Marilyn Monroe, of course.

Children are the only real legacy that most people end up leaving behind.

I don’t want any of those and never have.

Besides, it’s a different kind of legacy than Einstein or Monroe left behind. They left their mark on history. They were known for something and continue to be known for those things to this day.

That means more in my mind than just breeding and being forgotten by your own relatives a few generations down the road.

Old Age & Sickness

At the same time, it’s hard to deny the obvious benefits of having a family as well.

I envision old age for someone like me as being lonely and awful, especially if I’m not well physically.

The last thing I want is to be stuck in some nursing home as an elderly person, not sure where I am and stricken with some kind of disease or another, without even a single relative to visit me.

That’s not how I want to leave this world.

But what choice will I have, other than dying young?

Where I Am Now

All I know is that here I am, 28 years old and wandering through life without any clear idea of how to leave my mark on the world and feeling the window of time shrink with each passing year.

I would feel so much better if I was making some sort of progress, but that’s impossible when you don’t know what you are working towards.

And I don’t.

I hate being an adult. I’m not very good at it.

I guess the problem is simple. The problem I’m experiencing is that I nothing has changed since I was seventeen.

I’m still that person and it doesn’t feel okay anymore.