'At 28, I’m exhausted by people asking when I’m having kids. So I’m getting my tubes tied.'

On Friday, I’m tying the knot.

No not that one, I don’t mean marriage.

I’m getting my tubes tied! Well removed actually – apparently that’s how it’s done now.

But first, watch the things people who don't want kids always hear. Story continues after video.

I’m 28, child-free, and after much consideration and research, this is how I reached the conclusion that I want to stay that way:

1. I just don't really like kids.

I was 16 years old when it first hit me that having children isn’t compulsory, and I’ve never developed the urge since then. I’ve waited for those siren-cries and wails to sound like sweet music to my ears (and ovaries); but the sound has a visceral effect on me, changing my mood and tolerance instantly. Seeing my baby nephew for the first time was a heart-warming experience. But his snotty-nose and sticky, cherry-stained fingers did not have me rushing over to scoop him up. I’m not particularly fun or intuitive around kids, and neither of us has a drive to be around the other. Are you picturing me as the step-mum in Parent Trap? (I promise there’s a middle-ground for women who are outgoing, yet don’t want to raise kids full-time).

“Oh, but it will be different when it’s yours!”

Will it? Are you sure? Is that a guarantee? Because there are plenty of modern mothers where this was not the case - and it’s not a reversible decision. Is that a risk you honestly think I should take?

I’m happy to hand out advice and hand down my clothes to the kids in my life. I’m happy to be the Aunty who comes to Christmas in nice dresses with fun travel stories and exciting gifts. Which brings me to my next point.

2. I'm selfish and entirely okay with that.

I like sleeping in on weekends. I like waking up next to my partner deciding what café to go to for breakfast, and not having to pack and unpack a car to get there. I like spending my time and money on things that make our life feel full in a way that suits us. Travel, pets, adventure, building our own businesses (taking financial risks), nice clothes, nice food, exercise, investing in our friendships, and feeding our own inner-child.

“Oh, but you’ll never truly know love if you don’t have a child!”

I find this a hyperbolic claim, but let’s say you’re right. I’m ok being wrong and filling my life with an abundance of other amazing experiences.

“But if you’re selfish now, who will take care of you when you’re old?”

This is a TERRIBLE reason to have a child... is there anything more selfish than creating someone else for the pure reason of being your carer? There is also no guarantee your child will have this kind of relationship with you; that they will outlive you; or that they themselves won’t need care. I’m happy to pay for someone else’s kids to look after me which is what happens when the elderly find themselves in aged care (a common outcome for parents and child-free people alike).

Besides, we often hear the rhetoric of “Wow, they shouldn’t have had kids” when parents are seen to underperform; and yet, when people openly decide not to, we see this as a selfish act? Having the strength to know your limitations should be celebrated, not judged.

3. I'm also not selfish.

While on a micro-level, my lifestyle is self-centred; at a macro-level, having children could be argued as the selfish option. Many millennials are choosing not to have children being unable to justify bringing new life to dying planet. The state of the world and particularly the environment has many young couples feeling a cognitive dissonance between their wants and their reality.

But people don’t have kids because they think it’s what’s best for their future child, for society, or for the planet. People have kids because they want to. And that’s ok - it’s a natural decision. But just like I don’t ask pregnant women “Why would you put yourself and your child through that? Are you sure you won’t regret it?”; I hope others can learn to respect the choices of women who don’t reproduce, whatever their reason. My not-having children doesn’t threaten anyone else’s choice to have them. Yet, many react like my choice is a personal insult to their lifestyle. I promise it’s not!

4. Let's say I do change my mind...

When making a drastic bodily alteration, of course I’ve considered both sides of the coin. Just like my pesky parents were right about tattoos chosen by a former-self from yester-year; what if I change my mind on this?

I’m not losing my ovaries, so if I do have a change of heart, IVF is an option. However, if I reach a point in my life where living selfishly isn’t fulfilling; regardless of my fertility status, I would foster or adopt. I don’t need to spread my genetics, or have my child look like a small version of my partner and me. To me, parenting is about imparting wisdom, and providing guidance, support, love, and security to a little human in need. Of course fostering comes with its own set of challenges. Again, I rebut that reproducing isn’t a trouble-free guarantee.

5. No one can really give me a good reason why I should reproduce.

So, I’ll feel love like I never have before; and there’s a small possibility they will sacrifice their own lives to keep me out of aged care. They’ll teach me more about myself and life than anything else; and I’ll grow my own friends from birth (maybe).

But none of these reasons have ever felt enough, or sure-enough for me. Parenting, in particular motherhood, is often described as the “hardest job in the world”, with the main prerequisite being sacrifice. You sacrifice your body, and your career. Your relationship changes. Your friendships shift. Your sick leave gets used for caring, and your free time gets used investing in someone else’s pursuits. While your workload at home increases, your wage of $0 for this does not. But your expenditure increases in ways you hadn’t even imagined. That’s not a good trade to me.

If I had children, I know I’d be a patient and empathic mum. But I would do so at the cost of myself, and I can see myself not coping. I can see myself smiling all afternoon, and crying alone in the shower at night. That’s not the life I want for me, or my kids. Why would you push women struggling to cope to do the hardest job in the world?

So, why go to the lengths of having your tubes removed? Why not just wait until menopause hits?

Well, I cannot tell you how exhausting it is having everyone interrogate, and then challenge you regarding your stance on kids. A childless future fills me with excitement, while imagining kids in my future fills me with dread. That answer should be sufficient. Being repeatedly told I’ll “change my mind” makes me have to constantly re-examine a choice I know I’ve already made. I just want the decision to be made so I can finally say “I can’t” instead of “we don’t want to”. I don’t want to wait another 20 years for people to accept the life my partner and I have chosen. I don’t want to spend two more decades in an unnecessary identity crisis because others feel my choice threatens their own.

Lastly, in reasoning that might seem left of field; the over-turning of Roe vs Wade has also played a part. Although this happened in another country with vastly different politics to ours in Australia; the general unsettled state of the world has me concerned at whether my rights will always be protected.

Listen to The Quicky, Mamamia's daily news podcast. Story continues after podcast.

So ironically, it can be concluded that the ultimate reason I’m having my tubes removed is because of those very groups who challenge me and women like me the most.

The right for women to make decisions on their body shouldn’t just be what they choose to do, but also what they choose NOT to do. And I’m choosing not to reproduce.

Feature Image: Supplied.

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