Kids, These Days
15 April 2010 at 2:53 pm

Well, this is disturbing.

When people ask me if I want kids, I say no.

Maybe I'll want one or two or eighteen later, or maybe I'll just have one whether I want to or not, or maybe I'll want one and won't be able to have one, but I don't want any right now.

Who knows what I'll want in the future? I used to hate olives, but now I can't get enough of them. Pop culture will have me believe that once I hit 35, my body will go INSANE if I don't have children (and I might get boobie cancer as well). But none of that matters, because I'm 26 and so, so free, free from desire, free from regret, free from trauma, free from making impossible decisions, free from having impossible decisions made for me. My life is mine and no one else's, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Not everyone is so lucky.

I have a friend who has been trying to get pregnant for awhile now and is finding it more difficult than the birth control pill advertisements would have you believe.

I have another friend who tried very actively to avoid getting pregnant, but is now raising two children anyway.

I know the girl who was impregnated through rape and decided to raise the child herself.

I know the girl who had an abortion scheduled and decided to raise the child herself instead.

I know the girl who had an abortion and says with palpable relief, "I'm so glad I don't have an 11 year old right now."

I know the guy who has a tattoo in honor of the two fetuses that were aborted. He never knew they existed until after they were gone, if you believe they existed at all.

Me? I don't think it matters. They aren't here now, and that was someone else's choice, and it has no bearing on my existence.

But you can bet your uterus, if/when I find myself counting the days with growing dread since my last bitch session, I want every fucking option available to me, regardless of the circumstances, and I would never live in any state, of mind or geographically speaking, that has convinced itself that it has some sort of patriarchal right over the things that happen to my body.

Also, thanks, internet! (via)


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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.