By Layla Black, 22nd September 2015

I Don’t Want Children

But that Doesn't Mean I Don't Love Children!

But that Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Love Children!

Next year I’m 40. There will be wine, lots of wine and Spain’s best Cava to celebrate this brilliant milestone (isn’t 40 the new 30 or something like that?) and as I embark on my 40th year with gusto, I can’t help but take a look at my life and reflect on my accomplishments. And very often my thoughts come back to the same topic.

I don’t have children. Have I made the biggest mistake of my life?

Last week I read an article where Kim Cattrall of Sex and the City fame spoke of not having children but still considered herself a mother, and that’s exactly where I am (I always knew deep down that I was more Samantha than Carrie Bradshaw despite the shoe collection).

Now, I am happy to admit that I am great with kids. I get them and they get me. I have a twelve year old nephew and a ten year old niece who are the loves of my life. I have three beautiful godsons and even today, it astounds me that any adult of sound mind would consider me a suitable candidate for such a huge responsibility.

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Prior to any agreement on my part, I’m very clear to outline all my downfalls in order to manage expectations. I’m always going to forget birthdays (which reminds me, I must Moonpig my two year old godson a card for his birthday tomorrow – sorry Jamie), I will always buy age inappropriate toys because I either forget how old they are or because I think the toy is aesthetically beautiful and would look great adorning a bedroom wall (sorry Jamie, again) and I will undoubtedly forget not to swear when in the company of these little beauties (the amount of times I’ve turned a fast paced curse word beginning with T into “Twit Face” before an eight year old brain can catch up is staggering). What I can guarantee is that we’ll always have fun when we’re together and when I see them in person, I’ll be so laden with presents that any observing psychologist would have a field day. My own self acknowledged, silent plea of “PLEASE LOVE ME.”

I’m also a step mum to a nine and soon to be seven year old. The kids live in the UK with their mum and due to us living abroad, we are very fortunate to have them most school holidays. I feel that this is where I come into my own, for the first week anyway… and then I might take on a less saintly figure when I’m falling over nerf guns and random dolls heads. I am lucky to have known them most of their lives and my relationship with the kids is as good as any step parents’ could be.

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On one of our travels home, my (then) six year old step daughter was writing a diary of her holiday for her mum. She wrote on the front “For my Mummy”. She turned to me and said, “This isn’t for you but for my real Mum.” Okay, if I’m honest, my heart did sink for just a split second, but I also knew this was a pivotal moment in our relationship. So I turned to her and said, “My darling girl, you will only ever have one Mum and that is who we’re on our way home to see now.” This was met with a smile and a nod of her head. There was to be no confusion.

People have struggled, more than me, with my decision not to have children. I’ve regularly been asked questions dressed up as statements of fact such as, “who will look after you when you’re old?” when what they really mean is that there will be nobody to put me in an old people’s home when I’ve lost it. Or “Don’t you want to leave a legacy or footprint of your life?” which is a kind way of saying that nobody will remember me when I’m dead.

The comment I receive the most is that by not having my own child, I’ll never know that feeling of unconditional love. They might be right. There might not be any greater love than having your own child, but you don’t miss what you never had, right?

It’s not that I have any concerns about pregnancy or motherhood. In fact, and it’s been said to me by friends, I would be a wonderful mother. And I feel I am.

I’m a mother figure to my sister’s children, my husband’s children and to all my friends’ children. I am in an extraordinary position to be all things to each of them such as “naughty Aunty Layla” and “favourite Aunty Layla”  – especially to my niece who is currently learning the harmonies to Me and My Shadow so that we can perform it together the next time we meet. I’m the person they send annual school photos on a fridge magnet to, the person they can confide in and when chatting on Skype asking their Mum to leave the kitchen so that they can speak to me privately.

So why don’t I want children of my own? To put it simply, I love my life too much to want to change it and whilst I’m a much better person for having those children in my life, it’s not for me to be a parent figure on a full time basis. I’ve read articles in the past where women have claimed to be “too selfish” to have children and perhaps that’s one way of putting it.

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I don’t see myself as selfish. I don’t have children because my life is my own. I live it according to my mood, the opportunities in front of me and I have some incredible adventures. This year I have been to the Monaco Grand Prix (VIP darling), visited friends in Portugal countless times at the drop of a hat (for a drop of Vinho Verde, Portugal’s finest, okay cheapest), and in a couple of weeks I’m heading to Vegas for a work conference; okay, it’s really just a jolly and that’s only because I’ve promised my twelve year old self that I’ll buy extortionate priced tickets to arrange a “meet and greet” with Matt Goss. If I had children of my own, all these things and more would be more problematic and not that easy to do without the help of babysitters, good friends and family members.

My niece asked me once, why I didn’t have children. So I put it to her as best I could. “I simply don’t have enough love left in my heart, because you have it all.” It’s true. I love all my children and I make sure I let them know how special they are to me. That’s my interpretation of unconditional love and I’m at peace with it.

Oh, and to those friends that wonder who will look after me when I’m old and senile, I recently married a very handsome, much younger husband, so I’m in good hands thank you.

(Note from The Editor: Many thanks to Layla Black for being a House-Guest. To read more from Layla, you can click here. For more information on how you can become a House-Guest for The Glass House Girls, click here.)

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