I’m a child-free 70-year-old – there is only one thing I wish was different

I’m in my seventies, and for most of my life I’ve been grateful to have experienced none of the trials, tribulations and expenses of motherhood. But, although I have no regrets about not being a mother, one thing I do miss now that I have left the workplace is having young people in my life. I am from a boomer generation that was expected to marry and procreate. My teachers all assumed I would have children, and at my grammar school the teaching career was advised as a way to have a family compatible with school holidays. It seemed that the magazines and novels I read as a girl, the church and the state, as well as my relatives and friends, expected me to want babies. The one exception was my mother. From a working-class background, forced to leave school early to work in a tannery, she had married and – in a time when contraception was hard to get or unreliable – had three children when she would have been happy with only one or none at all. Her ambition for herself – only realised later in life when she went to college in her fifties and started working as a commercial subjects teacher – was projected onto me.

Mother's regrets explained over kitchen table chats

We sat together at the kitchen table while she expressed regrets about the dreary drudgery of her life. Her strong advice to me was to get an education and never to have children. I was deeply affected by her words, and seeing the toll that domestic labour and childcare took on her, I resolved to pursue a fulfilling career, as well as the freedom and affluence she had so desired. Looking back, I realise how much I absorbed my mother’s bitterness, and how my decision not to have children was coloured by her experience. But as my academic career blossomed, there was friction between us as she clearly envied me and resented the fact I wasn’t readily available to visit or care for her constantly in her disabled old age. Speaking to other women without children, I have found that the fraught relationship with a frustrated, bitter or unfulfilled mother was behind many of their decisions not to give birth. We all wanted to live the lives our mothers had been denied. (Photo: Natasha Breen/REDA&CO/Universal Images Group/Getty)

Role models that didn't have babies

The women’s movement came along at the right time for me, since Second-Wave feminism raised questions about the family, a woman’s right to choose and the pitiful provision of facilities and resources for parents, especially mothers. Seeing my friends’ struggles with painful childbirth, sleepless nights and unsupportive employers, I decided to follow my mother’s advice and avoid having children. As a feminist activist in the 70s, I argued that women didn’t need to be wives and mothers to have a good life. My role models were those great writers and artists, such as Jane Austen, George Eliot, Gwen John and Billie Holiday, who had given the world great works rather than babies. I was happy to be in a minority of women who were childfree by choice. Despite this resolve, when I was in my twenties I had two relationships with men who had children under the age of 10. I decided to embrace the role of stepmother, but very quickly felt trapped and bored by the presence of noisy, unruly and untidy kids in my home. These experiences confirmed my belief that I wanted none of my own. As my brothers and friends all had children, I felt both excluded from the family story but also relieved I didn’t have to be part of it. This caused a rift between me and many close to me, as they were swept up in the chain of life and all its joys and problems.

Disastrous Welsh trip

However, in my fifties an unexpected turn of events occurred to challenge my childfree status. In my thirties I had met a man who had no children and didn’t want any, and for 30 years we lived a good life, progressing in our careers, writing, travelling and making friends across the world. We got married in 2003, and three years later my partner received an email telling him he had a son from a summer fling in 1968. Suddenly, I was the step-parent of a German man and step-grandmother to four young children, all living in Denmark. This both excited and alarmed us. How would we cope with this new situation? We decided to throw ourselves into the relationship, visiting them at their eco-house near Aarhus, and inviting them to stay during July in a rented house in Wales. The Welsh trip was disastrous, as it rained solidly the whole fortnight and nine of us (four kids under 10) were stuck in a house with a broken dishwasher and no possibility of walking out even into the soggy garden. Looking back on that holiday, I realise how reluctant I, a girly swot, was to engage with children and experiment with playful and imaginative activities I might have relished. I was more interested in reading, writing, walking and gardening. (Photo: Shutterstock)

Childlessness

But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to terms with my fear of and awkwardness around children. I now look at kids in the street and videos of my friends’ grandchildren and realise what I have missed. I’ve tried to compensate by becoming engaged with this step-family, despite the geographical distance. Our new family were disappointed we had no children of our own. I’m constantly aware of how women without children are the object of pity or suspicion. There was much speculation about why Nicola Sturgeon had no children. Her predecessor as Scottish first minister, Alex Salmond, had no children either – but was he ever asked about this. Helen Mirren, Jennifer Aniston, Taylor Swift have all been constantly challenged on their childlessness, and Elon Musk, bless him, offered to impregnate ‘childless cat lady’ Swift. Before they had their own kids, whoever talked of Warren Beatty and George Clooney as “childless men” or “non-fathers”? The word “childless” suggests a sad state of loss (miscarriage, IVF failure, inability to conceive, absence of a suitable partner or partner sterility), while ‘childfree’ sounds triumphalist and arrogant.

From Roe vs Wade to President Erdogan comments

What we childless/free women have in common is the stigma attached. Throughout history, women without children have been seen as threatening, unnatural failures. Words such as ‘crones, hags, spinster, dried-up hag/bag’ and especially ‘witch’ have described us. In our own time, Turkish President Erdogan described us as deficient, incomplete, giving up on humanity. Andrea Leadsom famously suggested that as a mother she had more of a “stake in the future” than the childless Theresa May. Margaret Atwood’s novel The Handmaid’s Tale, published in 1985, seemed a science fiction fantasy. Since then, the Taliban’s brutal removal of women from the public sphere, the Supreme Court reversal of Roe v Wade, and the rise of the Christian Right, remind us that a woman’s prime duty is to procreate. As friends describe their grandchildren’s lively visits, during which they fix computer and phone problems, the regret I feel is not at having no children of my own – but at not being involved more in young lives. (Photo: Eric Gay/AP)

No regrets around children

Unlike me, many women without kids are proactive aunties, godmothers, playmates and more. Museum director Julia Peyton-Jones adopted a daughter and ensured she had 37 (yes!) godparents – including many well-heeled art historians. Germaine Greer has no children – but 14 godchildren. And mothering is something we childfree can do very well – to students, friends, neighbours, companion animals and strangers. Since retiring from my academic job I have lost the opportunity to support and mentor younger colleagues and students, towards whom I often felt deeply maternal. I really miss that – and I am beginning to accept that I now face the prospect of an old age in which I may become very isolated, without family members to visit and support me, having to rely on paid help and the kindness of strangers. Of course, if I had had children and grandchildren, they might be living far from me, feel indifferent towards me, and/or have no time to visit. Thank goodness for my brothers and friends, who will do their best to be my support group. I have no regrets about not having my own children but if I could go back in time I would make far more efforts with my nephews, nieces and friends’ children. As you grow older, keeping young people close, with their energy and brio seems crucial. (Photo: Catherine Falls Commercial/Getty)

Overpopulation or 'baby recession'?

In recent years I’ve noticed the large number of young journalists celebrating their childless lives because of climate change, the possibility of nuclear war and the cost of living crisis. As an older woman, I decided to strike a note of caution and alert those younger than me to the implications of deciding not to procreate. My book, Childless by Choice: The Meaning & Legacy of a Childfree Life, tells my own story and addresses the complex problem of women’s role and responsibility in the future of the human race. We used to say population numbers were far too high. Now there is a “baby recession” – a crisis across the globe. When more people are living to great ages or dying than being born, there are fears we won’t have enough young people to fire the economy and care for the elderly. (Photo: MartinPrescott/Getty/iStockphoto)

'Bonk for Britain!'

In my own city, Bristol, the birth rate has fallen by 36 per cent in the last decade, and we know that in the UK people born in 1965 are twice as likely to be childless as those born in 1945. Some countries are suffering more than this, but one factor remains constant: the higher the literacy rate, the lower the birth rate. Governments are panicking that the educated middle class are reluctant to breed. “Bonk for Britain!” cried The Sun. In vain, do women of all ethnic and racial groups point out that, if economic conditions, payment, housing provision and national respect for mothers were readily available, and we welcomed more immigrants who want larger families, giving birth might appeal rather more. So do I recommend we refuse to have children, as the South Korean 4B movement – avoiding heterosexual marriage, dating, sex or childbirth – suggests? No. Having children, the most important job of all, puts you at the centre of a politics of hope and engagement with the future. But don’t vilify me and other childless by choice women who feel we’re happy to opt out, and have other creative contributions to make to the world. (Photo: Matt Cardy/Getty)