Little People

A.K.A babies.

Anyone who has known me for any time knows that I do not want children or I didn’t.

I’ve watched my friends fall victim to the cult of babies. They get that crazy look in their eye and then all they can talk about is ovulating and how amazing the ability to house a person in your womb for 9 months is the most important thing you could ever do.

I’ve mocked them. Pointed out how ridiculous they are and at times avoided them because my life is more than my ability to procreate and it always will be. But something in me changed through my conversations and the evolution of my relationship with The Boyfriend. Unknowingly, he gave me back something I’d lost after breaking up with The Gay Boyfriend 6 years ago – hope. Hope that I could have I loving relationship and a future that will allow me to want to be in the family way. What I mean is, I just didn’t believe I could have those things. That somehow I didn’t deserve them (for reasons that are too complicated to explain here). So I told myself I didn’t want them. I didn’t want to get married. I didn’t want to have a baby, etc.

Now this isn’t to say that I don’t have other reasons for not wanting babies. My depression is a big one. Not to mention I am terrified that I wouldn’t be a good parent.

My mindset has changed. Not that I am on a schedule nor am I one of these women who will doggedly pursue having a baby on her own. No, but when I find the right man and if having kids is something we are both interested in pursuing, I am now open to the possibility.


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