No Kids, No Problem: Why I’m Loving My Child-Free Life
There was a time when I thought I’d be a mum. Actually, scratch that—I was certain I’d be a mum. In my 20s, while I was in a long-term relationship, I had the whole future mapped out: house, husband, kids and the whole Pinterest-perfect suburban dream… And for a while, I was so close.
I had the house, the long-term relationship and even a stepdaughter. I was a step-mum for nearly a decade, doing school drop-offs, helping with homework, navigating bedtime routines, and making sure there were always snacks in the pantry (because the quickest way to lose a child’s trust is to run out of snacks). And while there were beautiful moments in that time, the truth is—we were all unhappy. My partner, my stepdaughter and, if I’m really honest, me. Eventually, the relationship ended, and with it, my role as a step-mum.
And as I’ve moved through my 30s, I’ve realised something that might make some people gasp in horror: the older I get, the less I want kids.
Now, before anyone comes for me with pitchforks, let me be clear—I love kids. I’m the fun aunty, the one who joins in the cool activities, teaches them cheeky things I probably shouldn’t, hypes up the little ones on sugar, and then conveniently hands them back to their exhausted parents. I take great pride in being there for my nieces, nephews and my friends’ children. But when it comes to having my own? I just don’t think I have it in me. Or, more accurately, I think I’ve become way too selfish to change my entire life for a tiny human.
I like my freedom. I like doing what I want, when I want, without having to negotiate with a toddler about why we absolutely cannot take the iPad into the shower. And honestly, if I had kids, I don’t think I’d have the energy to pour into everything else that makes me me—my career, my passion projects, my friendships, the other kids in my life.
And yet, despite being perfectly content with my choices, society still seems to have an issue with women who don’t want kids.
The ‘But Why?’ Phenomenon
The moment you hit your 30s as a child-free woman, something wild happens. Suddenly, it’s like everyone is reading from the same outdated script:
“But why don’t you want kids?”
“Oh, you’ll change your mind.”
“You’d be such a great mum, though!”
“What if you regret it?”
“Who’s going to take care of you when you’re old?” (Oh, I don’t know, maybe my thriving social circle, a top-tier nursing home, or literally anyone except a child I would have just for this exact reason?)
The assumption is always that you’re missing something, like your life must be a waiting room for motherhood, and if you haven’t had kids yet, it must be because of some unresolved trauma, an ex that did you dirty, or a ticking biological clock you just haven’t heard yet.
For years, I even believed this myself. When I was in my 20s, in a long-term relationship, I was adamant that I wanted kids. It was part of the plan. But plans change, people grow, and so do our desires. And the more I’ve settled into my life, the more I’ve realised… I love it just the way it is.
Could I meet someone tomorrow who changes my mind? Sure. But right now? I’m at peace with my child-free life.
The Joys of Not Having Kids (Because Yes, They Exist)
Despite what society might have us believe, not having kids doesn’t mean my life is some lonely, unfulfilled void. In fact, let me remind you of some of the absolute perks of being a woman without children:
Sleeping in—because no one is demanding breakfast at 6am.
Leaving the house in two minutes flat—without a meltdown because "I hate this hat!" (even though they refused to take it off yesterday).
Spending money on yourself—instead of daycare fees, school excursions, or tiny sneakers that somehow cost more than adult ones.
Watching whatever you want—without being held hostage by Bluey marathons (although I do actually vibe a bit of Bluey haha).
Enjoying actual silence—no crying, no shouting, no “Mum, Mum, Mum” on repeat like a broken record. Just peace.
Spontaneous travel & last-minute trips—booking a flight to Bali (or anywhere else), without planning around school holidays or babysitting logistics.
A clean house stays clean—without mystery stains, sticky handprints or stepping on rogue LEGO pieces.
Cooking whatever I want, eating in peace and actually enjoying my last bite of chocolate—without making a backup meal for a picky eater.
Deep, uninterrupted conversations & peaceful brunches—without constantly stopping to say, 'Put that down. Don’t lick that,' or dealing with a toddler launching scrambled eggs onto the floor.
Your bathroom is a private sanctuary—no open-door conferences, no tiny hands knocking mid-shower, and no one barging in mid-toilet break with an ‘urgent’ question that absolutely could have waited.
Phone calls without chaos—no sudden screaming in the background while you’re trying to sound professional.
Not attending soft play centres or kids’ birthday parties—because, let’s be real, no one over the age of five enjoys them (okay, I’ll admit Flip Out is kind of fun though!).
The Deeper Perks of Not Having Kids
The time and space to deeply know yourself—without the lifelong responsibility of shaping someone else’s identity first.
Pursuing personal growth—whether it’s through therapy, creative expression, travel, or just the quiet introspection that comes from having the freedom to ask, “Who am I, really?”
Prioritising your mental health—without the added weight of making sure a tiny human’s emotional well-being is taken care of first.
Deeper, more meaningful relationships—because you can be fully present in your friendships, romantic partnerships and family connections without always being in “parent mode.”
The freedom to be spontaneous with your time—whether it’s reading for hours, going to a last-minute event, or just taking a long, slow morning to sip tea and exist.
Exploring the world without limitations—travelling on your own terms, seeking adventure, and immersing yourself in new cultures without worrying about school schedules or childcare.
The ability to fully invest in passion projects and creativity—whether it’s writing, art, music, or building something truly your own, without having to put it on the back burner for soccer practice.
Living life at your own pace—with the flexibility to redefine what success and fulfillment mean to you, not what’s expected.
Choosing rest, peace, and stillness when you need it—without guilt or the constant need to be “on” for someone else.
The chance to write your own story—without a predetermined narrative of what life should look like.
Motherhood Is a Choice, Not an Obligation
Look, if I ever change my mind, great. If I don’t? Also great. But either way, I’m done with the outdated idea that a woman’s worth is measured by whether she reproduces. Motherhood is amazing, but it’s not the only path to a fulfilling life.
Some women dream of being mothers. Others dream of writing books, running businesses, travelling the world, or just having the simple pleasure of drinking a hot tea without interruption.
And guess what? All of those dreams are valid.
So, if you’re out here, living your best child-free life, cheers to you—may your sleep be long, your brunches be uninterrupted, and your snacks forever remain your own.