Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids

by Meghan Daum

this rapidly growing person who was simultaneously independent of me, entitled to me, wholly dependent on me, and part of me.

If the desire to have children is just a way to build some noisy tribe of distraction around oneself, then I’d rather be alone.

Because, in the end, it came down to another question I kept asking myself: Can I be the kind of mother I would have wanted to have?

sometimes your willingness to be a parent isn’t enough. Sometimes love runs out.

I’m totally cool with the idea of life being utterly meaningless and devoid of purpose.

The one who brings a child into the world has a responsibility to give the child everything, to put the child before all else.

If the ultimate purpose of your life is your children, what’s the purpose of your children’s lives? To have your grandchildren? Isn’t anyone’s life ultimately meaningful in itself?