26. children

and making a choice

At the end of August, almost two years ago, I received my first German salary. It was only a percentage of the amount I was meant to earn monthly. But it was the first time my account balance had crossed a thousand euros. I didn’t understand the joy I felt. It was relief, happiness, pride – it felt like I had finally made it.

I bought myself new shoes because the old ones were so worn out that often, in the Hamburg rain, water seeped in and froze my toes. I bought myself clothes which did not belong to the sale section on the H&M app. I took myself out for nice dinners and indulged in frequent Flat Whites at the fancy neighbourhood café. And on my way back from one such indulgence, it suddenly dawned on me – I didn’t want to share this new-found freedom with anyone else.

I didn’t want children.

I had lived for almost twenty-nine years, scraping together money, asking Dad for cash around the 22nd of every month, and doing odd freelance jobs to earn a little extra. With my current job and my current salary, I suddenly had enough to not just survive but to actually live.

Like going to the concerts I want to go to. Like leaving on a solo trip at short notice. Like going out for dinner and ordering without looking at the price and calculating in my head what that means for the rest of the month. Like ordering clothes and books and home decor without worrying about my account balance reaching the depths of the Indian Ocean.

Why would I want to give up this financial sovereignty in favour of being a parent? 

When I reached home, Alex was in the bedroom on his Nintendo Switch. I sat down next to him and said, “I don’t think I want children.”

I don’t know what I was expecting from him. I didn’t know if he would be disappointed, surprised or annoyed. Instead, he looked relieved.

“Neither do I,” he said, almost joyful.

And that was that. We had decided that in this life, we weren’t becoming parents. Once it was out in the open, it felt like a burden had been lifted off our shoulders. We could now live this truth. We are DINKs.

***

In my early twenties, whenever I put forth my doubts about motherhood, people assured me that I would change my mind as I grew older. In our society, you have predefined goals and a child is part of your 10-point life plan.

Many women in my mother’s generation followed this 10-point life plan to the tee. They got the degrees, married the men their parents chose for them (or in rare cases, like my parents, they fell in love with), had the babies, juggled their in-laws, husband and children, and ultimately sent the kids off to college. Then, suddenly they were fifty and for almost twenty years, their lives had revolved around nothing but their partner and their children. Now that the nest was empty, they had nothing to keep going for.

Some, like my mother, said fuck it and enrolled in university, got their master’s degrees, started their careers again, made new friends, started going on solo trips, learnt how to drive and found their passion in life again. Others felt lost, moved cities to be next to their grown children, uprooted their lives to be in service of the child who, in many instances, just wanted to be left alone.

Many like my mother, probably shouldn’t have been conditioned to do the college-marriage-child thing. At least, not when they were as young as she was. She could have had a thriving career, she could have used eighteen years of her life doing something other than caring for me, telling me to eat, study, clean up, or shower. She could have lived a different life, if she didn’t follow what society demanded of her.

Thus, she brought me up in a way that I am allowed complete autonomy for every single decision in my life. I was never forced to study something I didn’t like, get married, remain in my country or even choose a partner from within my community. I was taught to make my own decisions. And so, even though it would disappoint her that I wouldn’t contribute to the Saha-Lüschen bloodline, I am sure a part of her would be glad that I am breaking generations of societal conditioning.

I am in absolute awe of my friends who do it all – the job, the baby, their art, and their self-care. It requires a certain level of maturity and selflessness that I don’t have. I am, instead, happy being the cool, loving aunt who gives their kids great advice, buys them cute things and then, at the end of the night, gets to leave.

Until next time, living the DINK life,

Sanj 🫨