An old friend from childhood arrived today. She never had any children. She had made up her mind long ago that motherhood wasnt for her; she wanted to live for herself.
We met over tea this afternoontwo women of sixty, reunited after decades apart. When we finished university, she packed her bags without a backward glance and left our village. For a while, letters flew between us, but those too faded away with time.
It was only through mutual friends that I heard whispers of her lifealways somewhere new, never rooted. She travelled across Europe, changed jobs and addresses, fell in and out of love. By fifty, she was on her third marriage, and that too ended in divorce. Yet, she never had children. I could never wrap my head around it; most women at least have childreneven if things go awry with a husband, there are children, one day grandchildren, hands to hold and stories to carry on.
Now shed come back to our little market town. She needed to sell what was left of her belongings; shed given up her old flat.
We met at the local tearoom, catching up in the golden light of the late afternoon. I shared tales of my familychildren, grandchildrenwhile she spoke of foreign markets and sunlit piazzas, of men and freedom. Then, over the rim of my teacup, I finally asked:
Claire, tell mewhy did your life turn out this way? Why no children? Didnt you ever think about the future, about whod look after you? Doesnt it worry you, the thought of being alone in old age?
She threw her head back and laugheda wild, unburdened sound that filled the room. Oh, Ann! You still think your children will be there to wait on you when youre old? Its not how things are anymore. Children arent duty-bound like before; they have their own lives far away. Frankly, its easier to save up, hire a good carer, than rely on anyones pity or obligation.
She paused, her eyes clear and unflinching. I simply didnt want them. I didnt want to spend my years fretting over someone else, playing nursemaid, worrying about money, or feeling responsible for every scraped knee and broken heart. I wanted my life for myself. To see the world, to earn my own keep, to live as I chose. My marriages ended because I wouldnt give in to the pressure to have a child.
Claire smiled, a lightness in her face that almost made her look young again. Even now, I do as I please. Im not minding grandchildren, not stretching my pension to help children who cant fend for themselves.
She set her cup down firmly. So, noI regret nothing. In fact, I pity those who had a brood, gave up everything, and are now sitting alone, blaming their children for living their own lives in faraway cities or countries. Thats not my burden to carry.
I listened to her, really listened, and for the first time, I saw the wisdom in her choice. Why bring children into your life if your heart isnt drawn to it? Why mould your future around hopes and what-ifs, when its uncertainty all the way?
Her words lingered in the hush between us as I realised: perhaps she hadnt missed out after all. Perhaps, she’d simply lived as she wished.
