The one about kids.

So, kids. Let's talk about kids today.

Anyone who has known me for more than a week or so knows my stance on kids. The conversation I have with a new acquaintance eventually steers into this direction (presumably because I'm twenty-eight years old and newly married): 

Them: So do you have kid--

Me: Nope.

Them: Oh.

Sometimes people respect and understand that. Sometimes they can't wrap their head around it and they demand reasons and/or try to convince me that I'll change my mind one day (and that I'll regret it if I don't have them) (seriously, ladies, most annoying statement ever). Most of the time those people ask questions that they have no business asking. 

Are you going to have them? Don't you want them? What about your husband? Why?

First of all, stop talking to me like I'm broken.  Secondly, the answers, in their respective orders, follow. Not planning on it. Not really. He feels the same way I do (we did talk about these things pre-nuptial, you know). And because (not that it's any of your business) I think children should be brought into this world because they're wanted, not because kids are "the next logical" step in a marriage, not because someone has been ignorant in regards to the plethora of birth control options out there, and not because a relationship is irrevocably screwed up and it's the last chance for normalcy. Call me cynical, but I believe about half (and I'm guessing conservatively, mind you) of the births that occur are due to one of those three reasons. Kids deserve better circumstances than that. They deserve love and choice and commitment.

Delving a little deeper into the why question, and I'm being 100% honest with you guys here, I am a selfish person sometimes. I'm a newlywed, and I am still starry-eyed and blissfully in love with J, and I want him to myself right now and for the foreseeable future. In addition to that, as I've mentioned previously, I fully enjoy alone time. I have plenty of unwritten words inside of me and piles of unconsumed media surrounding me; I do not get bored. I don't feel as if anything is missing from my life. I'm whole.

Now, that being said -- I adore kids. I do. Promise. Ask any of my friends who have kiddos, despite my 6-month aversion to holding them while they're still scrunchy-faced and fragile newborns who lack neck control, I coo and I squeal and I pregnant-belly-rub (with the mother's permission, of course) and I compulsively buy baby-shower gifts with the best of them. I am down for coloring books and puzzle time and peek-a-boo and video games and action figure dudes all day long. Hell, fairly recently, a friendship I'd had for years came to a screeching halt and I miss the kid more than I miss the parent. True story.

I get why people want kids, so I don't ask them why they choose to have them. They're fun to be around, and they're full of wonder and innocence and hilarity.  You couldn't buy better entertainment. I'm sure it's a fulfilling event, to create this tiny little person and then watch them learn and grow over the years, to see their personalities develop, to guide them through highs and lows. Parenting is hard work and if all goes well then you can rest assured and be proud of the fact that you've raised a productive member of society. I get it. It's remarkable and I commend those of you who have kids and who are selfless super parents.

I just wish people would stop nagging me about why I don't want them. I'm not saying it'll never change, because there's a reason that the term "ticking biological clock" exists (and there's a reason I've got names in mind for both sexes, just in case), but right now, I'm great, thanks. Bring the kid over when you and the hubs need a date night -- I can handle it for a few hours (as long as J is here; he's more maternal than I am) -- but I'm not ready to full-on commit to a tiny helpless being who is completely dependent on me for life. 

...plus, I mean, I've got a lot of kick-ass toys and I'm not willing to share those just yet.

But you know. Maybe some day.

In the future.

Maybe.

Nobody is perfect

Here's what some people don't understand -- flaws, like beauty, are largely in the eye of the beholder.

I've been thinking about this for quite a while, the introspection spurred by several events. Some of them are my own experiences and some of them are others' that I have observed. So many times, people are so hurt that you either think or operate differently than they do, they will think of you as flawed. Even worse than that, they'll try to convince you of it, too.

I'm here to tell you that it isn't true.

I'm here to tell you that sometimes it's okay to be selfish. There's a difference between being selfish and being self-centered in that selfish can be temporary, whereas self-centered rarely is. Sometimes you're worn down by constant demands that are made by loved ones and/or coworkers. Hell, sometimes you demand too much of yourself. It's okay to take a step back and breathe, because here's something that took me too damn long to learn -- it's okay to say "no" to people. You can say no to hanging out if you want to stay in. You can say no to a phone conversation if you know that you'll just be dead air to the other end of the line. You can say no to favors. If your friends know you well enough, they'll back off. They know as well as you do that if they had a crisis in the middle of the night, you'd still show up with no hesitation. Needing time to yourself is not synonymous with being a jerk.

It's okay to re-prioritize your life even though some people may not make the cut... and it's okay not to miss those people, too. Usually it means you've made the right decision. You'll get nostalgic occasionally, but it's mostly nostalgia for the fun or the happiness you had with the people in question. In our everlasting instinct to want to think the best of people, our memories turn to the happy times when we reminisce. If you've ever been upset over the end of a crappy relationship, you know how this goes. People change. You change. As the age-old proverb goes, change is the only constant.

Speaking of which, it's okay to change. You are not betraying anyone by growing as a person (and if they act like it is a betrayal, seriously, it's time to re-evaluate your social circle). Life is too short to pretend to be something or someone you're not just to appease other people or keep from hurting their feelings. Some people want to travel, others are homebodies. Some people want to get married, some will never get out of their party animal stage. Some people want kids, some people don't. Some people need friends outside of their marriage, others are perfectly content with their spouse and their family.  It's okay to be any of these things, as long as you don't lie to others -- or yourself -- about who you really are and where your heart truly is.

Last, but certainly not least, it is okay to be blissfully happy -- and SHOW it. This should be a "duh" but I find so many people being Debbie Downers in response to other people's happiness lately.  As a sweet friend of mine said recently, you may as well be waving an enormous flag that says, "I'm miserable!" when you put down someone else simply for being happy. If someone is incandescently happy, don't you think you should be happy for them too?  Don't you think that they might have walked through the fires of hell to get to their happiness? Don't you think that if you focused a little bit more on yourself and how to escape your struggles that you'd eventually find your own happiness (and want to shout about it from the rooftops)?  I mean, I know it takes less effort to sit, sulk, and snark (and if that's what you choose to do, then I sincerely pity you) ... but what will you ever truly accomplish with your life if that's your attitude toward someone you claim to love who is happy?

So, that little tangent over with, here are my faults.

• I prefer the company of my husband over anyone else in the world. That's part of the reason I married him. I'm not sorry that I love him with my whole being. 
• I prefer not to die within ten miles of my birthplace. I want to experience somewhere new and meet other people. I don't want to commit to one place unless I have to. I'm not sorry that I want to experience other places instead of living on the same street as my entire extended family. 
• I happen to think that there are a few core rules of friendship you simply don't break, and if you do break them, you need to have the balls to own up to your shitty behavior and apologize before you're forgiven.  I'm not sorry that I have a backbone.
• I'm a radically different woman now than I was a year and a half ago. I'm an entirely different creature now than I was several years ago. This has cost me several friendships that were flaky from the beginning and a couple of family ties that made me ashamed of my own blood. I'm not sorry that I'm strong enough to cut toxic people out of my life.
• I'm posting this so that other people might read it and empathize with my point, having been there themselves. I'm not going back to edit it, tweak it, or take it down because I second-guess myself.  I'm not sorry for having an opinion.  
• ....and you shouldn't be, either.