On Thanksgiving, my boyfriend of two years broke up with me over text.
Months before the grand finale, we had been living in a reluctant state of denial over the discussion of kids. By this I mean—I had tried for a year to discuss how I didn’t want them, while he refused to discuss it at all.
So, like all the greats who can’t afford to see their therapist on a weekly basis, I turned to Reddit.
How, I asked, could I get my boyfriend—who was not only younger than me but also, as a man, blessed with a much looser biological deadline—to take this conversation seriously?
How could I encourage him, I queried the masses behind their screens, to reflect critically on something so serious without “nagging” him? To thoughtfully consider a decision which most women have been reflecting critically on since the age of fifteen?
He believed kids were “just what you do.” I disagree.
A former publicist for women’s sexual wellness products (yep, I shilled vibrators for a living), I’ve spent years fighting an uphill battle for understanding from a public that, too often, just doesn’t want to hear it.
I mean, women’s sexual wellness products still aren’t allowed to advertise on subways or on Facebook, while pop-ups for ED meds could very well be springing up as you read this.
The result of all my Sisyphean efforts? A belief that failing to challenge societal norms can trap even the smartest of us. Ill-examined expectations are a hell of a drug.
Thankfully, Reddit assured me I was not the first person to grapple with this problem.
In fact, I quickly discovered insights from thousands who’d navigated it before.
The key takeaway, I learned, was to get at the “why.” To better understand how both you and your partner reached your respective conclusions.
When we finally talked about it, my boyfriend’s reasons for wanting kids, including a desire to make his mom happy and a reluctance to be “old and alone,” set off major red flags for me.
But it was one specific response that hit (and hurt) me more than all the others: he believed having kids would make him a “better person.”
It turns out, this explanation is pretty common for men. And while my boyfriend’s reaction to our impasse was the previously-mentioned Thanksgiving text dump, I want more for you. Because news flash: I’m a catch and he’s missing out. You don’t have to meet the same fate.
So, let’s get into it.
If you see kids in your future, and there’s even the smallest inkling that raising a child will somehow transform you into this new and improved version of yourself, I have some questions.
First, when you say you want to be better, what do you mean? More patient? Generous? More selfless? Parenting does probably bring these qualities out, best case scenario. And those are good goals!
Indeed, they’re all markers of emotional maturity. And what woman doesn’t want to be with an emotionally mature guy?
But why is introducing a child into the equation a necessary catalyst for emotional growth?
If you’ve identified these attributes as aspirational, would it not make more sense to pursue them independently? Before risking that your less-ideal traits harm someone else—namely, your future child?
Why wouldn’t you aim for improvement prior to getting busy with the goal of making a baby?
Of course, this problem didn’t spring up overnight, nor is it a sign of any one generation’s negligence.
Women have long been taught from a young age that their emotions are something to be managed. We’re told we’re dramatic, erratic even—and that the key to life is controlling our “outbursts” so as not to make others uncomfortable.
Men have been failed by societal expectations, too. Just in the opposite direction.
You’re taught from a young age to be emotionless. “Boys don’t cry” and all that. Too often, the only feeling men are taught they’re allowed to express is anger, which society validates as a mark of macho masculinity.
The result? Women are socialised to recognize and regulate our emotions (becoming “better people” in the process), while you’re pressured into denying yours.
So why is having children an unlock for accessing all those stuffed-down emotions?
The book “The Love Gap” by Jenna Birch opened my eyes to a possible culprit: that many men view career development and financial success as the only “necessary” prerequisites to entering a truly serious relationship.
Meaning, you’re taught to earn a partner through career, power, money, and material possessions. Not with proof of emotional maturity.
From where I sit, this means that having a baby marks the very first time that most men are societally sanctioned to tune into your emotions and how they impact others.
Now, at the risk of “I couldn’t help but wonder”-ing you, I have to ask: What happens as more and more women achieve the “first part of life” landmarks—career, power, money, material possessions—without men?
What happens as we grow less and less patient with settling for partnerships with partners we need to parent?
Thankfully, there are plenty of men who’ve been inspired to navigate their inner world earlier in life, before kids.
What can you and I learn from them? And how do more of us encourage this kind of self-examination to take place well before another woman loses faith in her partner’s ability to access emotional depth?
Before another man becomes confused and overwhelmed by her disappointments? Before another kid suffers from the too-late start society forced upon their dad?
My ex didn’t have it figured out, and I don’t have all the answers, but I know this. It’s better to talk about it than stay silent, and I have to believe there’s room for improvement out there. Thanks Reddit.
