Every girl wanted to grow up to be a mom
My kindergarten graduation was memorable.
I was watching a film with my dad (it was not age-appropriate), a scary scene came on (I still remember it vividly), and I jumped off the bed to run to my mom in the living room. My foot hurt, and it turned out I landed poorly and broke a bone.
I walked down the graduation aisle with a cast and crutches. Other kids asked me what happened. I was too embarrassed to say it was because I was scared, so I said I accidentally tripped over a toy.3
Every graduating student was asked what we wanted to be when we grew up, and every girl said they wanted to grow up to be a mom. Except one girl, who said she wanted to be president, and me, who said I wanted to be a banker. The audience cheered when the other girl spoke. I don't remember how the audience responded to my answer, but I remember my mother's frown.
She admonished me right after the ceremony. "I'm not working so hard so that you can end up like me. You will be better than me." I was five. I didn't understand what that meant. My mother worked as a teller at a bank, so did many of my aunts. I wanted to grow up to be like them.
Over the years, I've thought a lot about how all the other girls said they wanted to be moms. I never shared in that desire. I wondered if I was broken in some way (maybe from witnessing my own mother's misery).
I was an angsty teenager. "What's so great about life that I would subject another human to it?"
In college, I knew no one and made new friends. Many of them were looking to be in relationships, hoping to meet a partner they could start a family with after graduation. I was not.
I thought maybe how I felt would change when I grew older. Women seemed to have a change of heart in their 30s.1 My heart never changed.
Okay, maybe it did a little. My desire for children was at about 11% when I was younger. I think E would make a great dad — and because of this, my desire increased threefold (that's significant!). But still, that leaves me at 33%. I think that's too low to pursue.2
As I leave my mid-30s, I'm surprised by my ambivalence. I thought I would have decided by now. I'm still waiting to see if my desire will change. But maybe I shouldn't be waiting for a feeling at all?
Soon, it won't be my decision. The decision will be made for me. And I'm too much of a rebel for that.
Iliza Shlesinger discussed this in Elder Millennial. ↩
Ideally, 80%. At the very least, 50%. ↩
Years later, as a teen, I ran into the girl I walked down the aisle with. The first thing she said to me was, "I still remember when you slipped on a toy." Slipped on a toy. What was I thinking — it was not better than being scared. ↩