Well, precisely. Extending the period of intellectual and emotional development isn’t just about “hedonistic play”, but developing skills and a greater understanding of the world and your place in it, rather than just following the socially-enforced impulse to start popping out babies.
Stranger
Respectfully, fessie, I took the point to mean precisely what you’re saying: that people these days (as compared to thirty years ago, even) are taking longer to reach full, mature adulthood. While you’re positing a reason other than the ones Stranger posited (a desire for emotional maturity, as opposed to the desire for education or play), the end result is the same.
And as for selfishness, it has to do with our ingrained notions of civic virtue. As fessie said, it’s the notion that if we were members of competing tribes, we all ought to have as many children as possible, both to beef up our tribes and to demonstrate our ability to live for others (our selflessness). Of course, we’re not members of competing tribes, and we don’t need to beef up our numbers or demonstrate our civic virtue by reproducing. I can demonstrate my civic virtue, my selflessness, through other “works”: charitable endeavors, the things I do for my family and friends, the places I donate the money I earn from my job.
But old ways, old feelings, die hard. It isn’t selfish not to have children (in fact, for some people, it would be selfless).
I’m 21, have been married to Himself since January this year, and we’ve been together for two years before that.
It’s extremely unlikely that we will have children, for a number of reasons. The first being that I’m just not emotionally ready enough to have a child dependant on me for anywhere up to and over 20 years. I like having disposable income, and not having to share my house and my husband with a squealing, stinky creature with no idea of personal space. And my mother had me at this age. She’s very bitter about her missed chances in life.
The second reason is that Himself has a (relatively) rare genetic disorder. He’s not disabled, but he has vision problems and had to have a lot of surgery as a child, and that’s not something we could afford, nor is it something we’d want to foister upon any potential offspring, especially as there’s a 50% chance that any child we had would have the same issues.
The third reason is that I’ve just found out I’ve inherited a hormonal problem from my mother that doesn’t leave me infertile, but greatly reduces my fertility without medical assistance (implants, hormone replacements, etc.). Another cost I don’t really care for if it’s not necessary.
When it ultimately comes down to everything, though, I just don’t like children, and don’t really want them. So my reasoning is quite selfish (as I’ve had told to me on a couple of occasions both before and after I got married), but then I’ve always felt that some of the reasonings behind having children “because I want to” are equally as selfish. I guess I’m just lucky in that my family don’t care much for my producing sprogs for them to coo and gurgle over, and Himself’s family (at the moment) don’t seem that interested in it either.
I don’t remember when CrazyCatLady and I decided we didn’t want kids, but it was a conclusion we came to individually at about the same time. We were probably 23 or 24; we’re 29 now and have never felt a twinge of need to be parents.
For me, it’s pretty simple–being a parent is such a demanding and consuming enterprise (at least when done right) that I don’t think anyone should undertake it unless they have a huge desire to and everything is just right. I have never felt that desire. I have an extremely demanding job and a full and fulfilling life outside of work, and I would not readily change any of it.
I have to agree with the vitriol for the dogs=kids thing. My mom always refers to them as the “kids”. They are not the kids; they are the dogs. We are not “Mom” and “Dad”; we are their owners. The dogs each had a Mom and a Dad; they, presumably, were also dogs. They are a part of the family, but they are not any sort of “substitute” for kids. I’m not above joking about it and all, but the analogy just gets dragged way too far.
You’re right, Campion and Stranger on a Train; I just wanted to assert that sometimes it’s because their standards are higher. But you’re correct, that could’ve been inferred from what had already been stated.
And I’ll definitely agree that to forego having children can be quite selfless. I’ve always sort of figured, just in my own thinking, that that was part of the reason for homosexuality. Non-reproducing adults would be of equal importance to the tribe.
And HeyHomie is so right, most women can’t possibly “have it all”. I can’t imagine it for myself. I’m sure there are exceptions, but damned few.
And as a parent I don’t agree at all with Trunk - pets can be wonderful substitutes for children. Realizing how badly I’d treated my first cat (at age 21) was quite illuminating and far preferable to having treated a child badly in its stead. Frankly if we ever get around to certifying people for parenthood, a trial period with an animal would be an important component.
/hijack Campion are you really positive that we’re not members of competing tribes? Isn’t that what various -isms come down to?
I’m 22 and don’t currently want kids. I hope I will someday though. In any case:
I think being pregnant would be REALLY COOL. Even a dependent baby sounds pretty cool. It’s just when they develop their own personality that I don’t really want anything to do with it anymore. As such, I want a puppy.
Don’t have kids. Never wanted them. I had my tubes tied when I was 26.
Thirteen years later, in 95, I was thrown into menopause by a brief course of very mild chemotherapy (for breast cancer, no lymph node involvement - I’m fine, thanks), and kept in menopause by Tamoxifen, a hormone blocker they give to women who had hormone-responsive tumors.
Six years later, I went off the tamoxifen. But fortuntately, within a year, I was able to have a hysterectomy. So of all the women in the world, I am surely the *least * likely to have a child now!
While I’ve never in the least regretted my decisions in this respect, I do feel bad for two reasons. One is that my genes are very good - my family, both sides, is healthy, long-lived, and intelligent. It seems a shame that those genes aren’t being passed on. (On the other hand, they would have had to have *me * for a mother, so maybe that’s a wash). The other is that both my brothers are gay and childless, and while my mother has never uttered a single inquiry, let alone reproach, I think she would have loved to have grandchildren. I’ve felt bad for her, but never bad enough to want to inflict myself as a mother on some poor innocent child!
I’ve always suspected that if people had a truly realistic view of parenthood, far fewer of them would have children (assuming complete control, no accidents). It’s an enormous commitment of work, time, effort, money, and emotion. Frankly, I’ve just never been able to see the upside. It’s not that I dislike children (most of the time). I just can’t see enough reward to make the sacrifices worth it. Selfish? You betcha! But I’ve always known that if I *had * had a child, I would have put its welfare first, and loved it dearly. I just never wanted to be in that position.
What the hell does that mean?
No kids for me. I already have a job.
I don’t want to hijack this further, but I don’t think we’re competing tribes. The lines between tribes are too fluid. At least in my experience, such as it is. It’s all in the definitions, though. 
I’m 41. Love kids, wanted kids, tried everything up to IVF to have kids. Nothing worked, and I had such severe endometriosis that I had to get a hysterectomy 2 1/2 years ago.
Mr. N.Sane and I have discussed adoption, but it’s not feasible for a number of reasons. I’m to a point in my life where I’m mostly comfortable with that (not that I don’t have a hella hard time on Mother’s Day), and have purposely chosen a career where I work with kids and families. Hubby’s not to that point yet, but I’m hopeful that someday he’ll get there.
What I HATE HATE HATE are the people who, when they hear that we couldn’t have children, blithely ask, “Why don’t you just adopt?” I don’t feel that I should have to justify my decisions to anyone else.
I’m 34 and I don’t have kids & don’t plan to.
Others have cited many of my reasons already: bad genetic pool, poor finances and unwillingness to invest the time & energy involved are among the top ones.
But I’m bipolar. I was just diagnosed and am now being treated, but all my life I’ve had rages that I never understood until now. When these rages are bad enough, I try to hurt myself to feel the pain, not to leave lasting damage. (I don’t cut, but it’s all the same sort of dissociative behavior.) I honestly can’t describe to someone who’s never been there how blindingly intense these rages are, and how drained they make me feel afterwards.
I have dogs. I don’t hurt them or yell at them. But they’re dogs. I love them a lot. I structure my life around them, and losing my first dog was the most devasting thing that’s ever happened to me. But they don’t talk back and they don’t required 100% of my life - unless I want them too. They’re greyhounds and they lie around and want to be loved on most of the time. I can deal with accidents and barfing, and I am a good caretaker of my dogs. But again, they’re dogs.
I believe and am afraid that if I had children, I’d hurt them. Physically or emotionally – either way, there’s a strong possibility that I’d hurt them. I won’t put a child into that position. I’ve been in that position, and it stops with me.
I get no comments about it from people who matter. And if I did, it’d hurt my feelings, but it wouldn’t change my mind. And fortunately, I have a brother who’s provided my parents with grandchildren.
No kids, won’t have any. Until I started reading a couple of infertility blogs, I never knew that there were women who dreamed of being pregnant, looked forward to it all their lives. I thought, There are women that really think like that???
Jeezopete. I never imagined that being pregnant was anything other than weird and kinda dangerous. And after it was all over, you might have a kid with problems, or who grew up to hate you or disappoint you, or whatever.
I figured from all this that I wasn’t Mommy material. The only time I really had a chance to have a kid, I turned it down. With no regrets.
If I’d gotten married when I was young and my husband had wanted kids, I probably could have been talked into it. But that didn’t happen, and that’s really fine with me.
Of course, I also had a mother who had multiple miscarriages and who had emotional problems. I’m pretty ambivalent about moms in general most of the time.
My mom told me once before she died that she was angry that I wouldn’t have children, because she’d hoped I’d learn first-hand what it was like to deal with a kid like me. And I was a good kid – just had my own ideas about how to do things and what I wanted to do with my life.
Oh well.