I don’t have children.

Looking back at my life, however, I find it surprisingly difficult to say whether that was something I chose.

As a teenager, I was certain I didn’t want children. My own experiences growing up hadn’t given me a particularly positive image of fatherhood.

That certainty stayed with me well into adulthood.

But somewhere along the way, it softened.

I didn’t suddenly decide that I wanted children.

I simply stopped being certain that I didn’t.

Relationships changed. I changed. What I could imagine for my future changed too.

Eventually, having children was no longer something I had ruled out.

Today, I still don’t have children.

So did I choose not to have them?

The more I looked into that question, the harder it became to answer.

Research into fertility intentions suggests that what people want isn’t nearly as fixed as we might assume. Long-term studies have found people moving between wanting children, postponing them, being uncertain and eventually expecting to remain childless.

One American study found that about a quarter of women had expected to remain childless at some point in their lives, yet only 14.8% ultimately did. Among those who remained childless, repeated postponement and changing expectations were common paths.

Another study found that 44% of women who ultimately remained childless only came to expect that outcome later in life.

That made me question the labels we commonly use.

Wanted children.

Didn’t want children.

Chose to remain childless.

They make something that unfolds over decades sound like a single decision.

Perhaps at 20 I genuinely don’t want children.

At 30, I’m not so sure anymore.

At 35, I can imagine having them, but not in my current relationship.

At 40, perhaps the relationship is right but other circumstances aren’t.

At every point, my answer can be completely sincere.

The problem is that the person answering the question keeps changing.

Research reflects this uncertainty. A 2024 study examining fertility intentions found that around half of respondents changed their stated intentions between survey waves. The researchers argue that fertility intentions are better understood as existing along a spectrum of certainty rather than simply as yes or no.

Relationships complicate things further.

We tend to imagine that someone first decides whether they want children and then finds a partner who wants the same thing.

Real life doesn’t always happen in that order.

The person we’re with can change the future we can imagine.

There is a considerable difference between:

I don’t want children.

and:

I don’t want children with this person.

Likewise, meeting someone with whom we can imagine raising a family may change something that once seemed certain.

Recent longitudinal research following childless adults over many years found that partnership status played an important role in whether intentions to have a first child were maintained, postponed, realized or eventually abandoned. Interestingly, planning from an early age to wait until after 35 was uncommon. Later expectations often emerged when earlier intentions hadn’t worked out.

That means someone may never make the decision:

I’ll wait until I’m 38 to have children.

Perhaps 29 becomes 31.

31 becomes 33.

A relationship ends.

Someone new appears.

Circumstances change.

33 becomes 35.

Eventually the question quietly changes from:

When will I have children?

to:

Will I have children?

Looking backwards, however, something interesting happens.

We naturally turn our lives into stories.

Psychologists call part of this process autobiographical reasoning: we connect experiences from different periods of our lives to explain who we are today and how we got here. It helps create continuity between the different versions of ourselves that have existed over a lifetime.

Perhaps that’s also why a complicated life can eventually produce such a simple sentence:

I chose not to have children.

The sentence gives the outcome a clear explanation.

But the actual path may have been anything but clear.

There may have been years when children weren’t wanted.

Years when they were simply irrelevant.

Relationships in which parenthood couldn’t be imagined.

Other relationships in which it could.

Periods when freedom mattered more.

Periods when priorities changed.

And circumstances that eventually placed limits around the choices still available.

None of this means we have no control over our lives.

We make choices constantly.

But choice and circumstance aren’t opposites.

We choose within circumstances.

Those choices change our circumstances.

And then the person making the next choice has changed too.

Perhaps that’s why I struggle to answer my own question.

I can’t say I always wanted children.

I didn’t.

I can’t say I always knew I wanted a life without them either.

I didn’t.

There wasn’t one decision.

There were many decisions, made by different versions of me at different moments in my life.

And somewhere along the way, they became the life I have today.

Sources

Research following women’s expectations of childlessness over time found considerable movement between expecting children and expecting childlessness, including repeated postponement and uncertainty.

A 2024 study further examined the instability and uncertainty of fertility intentions, finding substantial changes in intentions between survey waves.

Recent longitudinal research examining intended timing of first births found that partnership circumstances strongly influenced whether intentions were maintained, postponed, realized or abandoned.

Research on autobiographical reasoning and narrative identity examines how people connect experiences across time to construct coherent accounts of themselves and their lives.