Like other feminist trends in the past ten years, the childfree movement risks getting shrill
“How do I stay happy in my life? Don’t have children.”
The message from women who choose to be childfree is clear: “Be free, fly to Zanzibar at the drop of a hat. Have a clean home. Have money. Do cool stuff. Choose childfree." Fair enough.
Women shouldn’t feel pressure from society to have children. It’s a deeply personal, highly sensitive, possibly heart-breaking issue and not up for questioning.
The women choosing not to have children cite the cost of raising children, climate anxiety and simply wanting time to themselves as reasons. A recent PEW survey found 56% of people found nothing trumps uninterrupted independence.
Disciples include Miley Cyrus, who doesn’t want a baby on this “piece-of-s**t planet” and Chelsea Handler, who gives regular overtures about childfree benefits. “I wake up at 12:30pm and get ready for a busy day of doing whatever the f**k I feel like”: Off you go then.
I fear, like other feminist trends in the past ten years, this one risks getting shrill. One minute you’re holidaying in Tehran, buying trinkets for your clean home, the next your lifestyle is condensed into the hashtag #childfree, like #vanlife. You’re part of a movement with a lunatic fringe, and it’s not feminist blue.
Like Black Lives Matter, MeToo, pro-choice, feminism, even breastfeeding attracted hysterics, who dragged group thinkers with them. Discourse around breastfeeding for example, insisted women were scolded for breastfeeding in public, when they weren’t really.
No one cared, but furore and unnecessary anger ensued over isolated incidents. It’s important #childfree doesn’t get fueled by hyperbole and fanaticism.
As someone who was childfree until I was 39 and now with child, I challenge some of the misconceptions of motherhood perpetuated by the movement. Sure, we spend our time picking up odd socks and doing the school run in clothes we wore to bed, (like me this morning), but the assumption that motherhood robs our identity is wrong. I read things like "I love hiking, so I don’t have kids."
Do mothers not hike? I love hiking and Alpinism, rock climbing and music and I’m a single parent. But thanks for tarring me with your boring brush.
Equally, why can’t we travel to far flung places, drink wine, go to concerts and wear heels? How backward are we? Are we confined to the kitchen in stretch pants talking about school? Also do children not grow up?
It seems information for the movement is coming from tedious parenting articles. These exist because they are deemed more relatable than articles about single mothers who go skydiving, love motherhood and get on with it.
It’s dirigeur as a modern woman to have something to whinge about.
But what I found most challenging about the movement is how it can also trivialize child regret. I saw one article stating, "I regret having children - I’d rather watch Netflic." I didn’t know we were banned from Netflix.
Surely child regret is not that blasé. To what extent is the regret? I’ve heard childfree women say, "Oh she regrets having them" like you would regret ordering the risotto.
It’s not like that. You either regret someone was born or you have a bad day, because parenting is deeply frustrating and maddening. There is a difference and the latter is more likely. As the younger generation is more climate aware, a survey by One Poll found 35% of respondents didn’t want children because of climate anxiety.
In Ireland, our rates fell by 20% in the last decade according to the CSO. In 2000, global fertility rates stood at 2.7 births per woman, comfortably above the replacement rate of 2.1. Now we’re at 2,3 and falling. Declining birth rates mean less social capital, less working populations and less people to take care of you.
Fossil fuels are the enemy, not people who have children. The discourse around this can be misleading so it’s important to have all the information.