I have never had any desire to have children. Now, as I am surpassing the age in which that would even be possible, it is a relief to me that I feel no sudden urge to reproduce. As a child, I was terribly uncomfortable with other children. I loved to be in the company of adults, I loved to listen to their stories, to watch their interactions. I was eager to be an adult myself. Looking back on this period I don’t know if I felt this way because I was unusually tall or if I was more mature than other children. I tend to think now that having a child is such an enormous responsibility that there is no way I could live up to being a good mother. Sick animals don’t reproduce and I am not well. I never have been.
The odd thing about all of this is that children adore me. They fall in love with me, forgetting their own parents in a quest to get my attention. I love kids…but I need time to myself. I am incredibly selfish when it comes to fulfilling my needs. Children need so much. They terrify me. I am so afraid that in one moment of inattention, one afternoon when I just am not in the mood, when I am not available emotionally, that my own shortcomings could hurt a child. Thinking of my own childhood is still painful to me. I cannot accept the power bestowed through maternity. It is a relief to have at least one thing in my life that I’m 100% sure of.