I am a weirdo and I know it. Most of the time, I’m fine with it. More than being fine with it, I’m happy that I’m not part of polite society. I make it easier on myself by only being friends with fellow weirdos (though some pass better that I do) so I don’t really think about it on the daily. Sometimes when I talk to my brother because he’s definitely more mainline than I am, but he’s starting to skew more towards weird the older he gets.
A week ago or so, I was talking to my BFF. Somehow, we started talking about kids and school. Probably because she’s a teacher and has a teenager of her own. She got her first jab and will be getting her second this week. Yay! I’m so happy for her. I’m not eligible because most of my issues are not documented. And, they’re not as serious as many people’s. I mean, yes, having bronchitis for six months is no fun, but it’s not life-threatening, either. That’s sums up my myriad of health issues. None of them are terrible in and of themselves, but they could lead to something worse and the sum is worse than the individual parts.
For example. Having a cold or bronchitis for months is not a big deal in and of itself. Constantly getting them, though, is an indication that I have a really shitty autoimmune system. Nothing too serious, I don’t think. I’ve never had a doctor voice concern about it, but there could be several reasons for that. Oh! My thyroid issue is a big deal, but that’s mostly taken care of. Migraines? I consider myself fortunate that a full-blown migraine is rare for me and when it does happen, it just puts me out of commission for one day and most of the next. And, by out of commission, I mean weakened, exhausted, extra-sensitive to stimuli (I’m already sensitive to stimuli in my day-to-day life), and being fragile. The second day after the migraine, I’m about 80% back to normal. Given the descriptions I’ve heard/read about how terrible some people’s migraines are, yes, I consider myself lucky. Also, if I catch one in time, I’m just stuck with a low-level headache, slight nausea, and hurting eyes for the day.
When the pandemic started, I knew that if I got Covid-19, it would most likely hit me really hard given how badly my body does with regular colds. The last time I got the flu shot, I was out of commission for three days afterwards. Yes, I know it wasn’t the flu, but it sure felt like hell, anyway. I will be getting the vaccine for Covid-19 when I’m allowed, but I anticipate having a bad reaction to it, especially the second dose.
Where was I? Oh, right. So my BFF and I talked about how for most of her kids, the pandemic has sucked school-wise, but for a minority of them, they have thrived doing online schooling only. I said I felt similarly. Because of my PTSD, I am aces in a crisis. It’s only the imminent threat has passed that I fall apart. For the pandemic, that meant around month four or five. I went from being calm and focused to being incandescent with rage. For two or three months, I was furious. Some of it was reasonable, but some of it was just generalized anger at the world around me. Two things I regret most about last year (other than the pandemic itself, of course) were my missed trips to see my two best friends. I’m hoping to see both of them in 2022, but it’s still hard to swallow.
While my BFF and I were talking about school and neurodiversity, I mentioned that I wished there had been more known about neurodiversity when I had been a kid. I would definitely have preferred online school to in-person school for several reasons and would have love the current situation from a school point of view. If I were to go back to school, it would be online with me doing most of the heavy work by myself at home.
It got me thinking about how my life would have been so different if…well, if I was just more normal in any way. I’m not saying completely mainstream, but just in anything. This morning, I was trying to imagine my life if I were, say, my brother. He’s Christian and heavily involved in his church. He has three kids and is a very interactive father. He was and is always present for his kids, and it’s something I admire about him in part because we did not have a good role model for that when we were kids. He’s straight, monogamous, and very heavily into environmental issues. Also, until 2008, he was a Republican because he was a Christian. We had arguments about it and he voted Obama in 2008. Now, he’s more left-leaning in some ways than I am, which does my heart good.
I tried to imagine a ‘normal’ life and failed completely. I have a great imagination and can picture just about anything, but life with kids and church? Couldn’t do it. Not exactly true. I can imagine church because I was forced to attend for eighteen years, but I can’t see doing it voluntarily with kids in tow. It’s the kids thing that really throws me, though. I knew from my early twenties that I did not want to have kids. It was something deep down inside me and the thought of having them made my whole body clench. It literally made me sick to my stomach, though that’s not something I share with anyone. I once explained in an abortion argument (with a pro-life Democrat, sigh) that if I were forced to have a child, I would kill myself (and I wasn’t exaggerating), and what good would that do either me or the unborn child? He replied that in his world, I could get a note from my doctor explaining that and be exempt. I pointed out that having to put that out there would be allowing it to be used against me (unstable mental health) and maybe we should just trust people? We argued some more and it came down to the fact that he felt that women (specifically to him) who engaged in sex should have to suffer the consequences of their actions. I asked if he meant to say that having kids was a punishment because that was what he was saying.
You’d be surprised (or not) how many people have this view–that slutty women should be punished for their slutty slutty ways. Oh sure they dress it up in different words and say bullshit like actions have consequences, but it’s what they mean. It’s a very puritanical way of looking at things and it doesn’t say anything good about how they view children, either.
I think it’s difficult for me to think about a life with children because the very thought horrifies me. I used to say that I was too selfish to have children. While that’s true, that doesn’t stop a lot of people from having children, anyway. The biggest reason I didn’t have children is because I didn’t want them. That should be enough, but it wasn’t for a long time. I’ve harped on this a lot, but so many women checked me for my stated desire not to have kids. And, yes, it was just women. Women are sometimes the worst gatekeepers for misogynistic societal norms in part because it can feel like you’re heavily punished for not taking part. In fact, that’s why so many women got angry at me for simply stating that I didn’t want kids*. They hadn’t questioned their own choices and felt I had cheated the system by opting out of the status quo. I actually had women saying I must have thought they were stupid for having children/planning on having them/wanting them.
The first time I got that response, I was astounded because I was simply stating that I wasn’t going to have children. How did that plain statement of fact cause someone to be so irate? It was only after it happened several times that I realized the mentality behind the accusations. This was in the early ’90s when women were still expected to have children no matter what else they did. By the way, I had hoped it would get better as I aged, but from what I’ve heard, it’s something young women still have to deal with. Sigh. Anyway, that’s the backdrop for me coming along and saying that I wasn’t having kids. Not only that, I wasn’t apologetic about it at all. Nor did I give any reason other than I didn’t want them. In addition, I didn’t preface it by saying how much I loved children. In other words, I was about as opposite as the prevailing societal norm as possible and I didn’t even have the good sense to realize I should be ashamed of it.
During my late twenties, I looked for articles, books, movies, anything that validated my unapologetic no-children stance, but couldn’t find any. The one anthology I found by women who didn’t want children were filled with excused why they didn’t want them and how much they really really loved children. Which, fine and whatever, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t find anything to back me up and that made me realize what an oddball I was and how much I was threatening the status quo. I’m assuming there’s more literature now about being positive about being child-free (I like to say I’m gleefully child-free when I talk about it which is almost never), but back when it mattered to me, it simply wasn’t available.
When I started this post, I was going to imagine a day in the life or a normal person, but in writing the post, I realize the futility in that. I don’t know normal and I don’t want normal. What I want is to feel ok living my life as the weirdo that I am. This is me, for better or worse, and that’s not something I can wish away.
*Please note that I never brought this up on my own. I only answered when I was asked the direct question and it was a simple, “I don’t want children” or “I’m not going to have kids”. I never castigated other people for their own choices or said something like, “Ewwwwww! Grosssssssss! How can you even ask me that?” I say this to preempt the idea that I must have somehow provoked the responses I got.