Millions of generations of humans are probably not all wrong when they say that having children is one of life’s most meaningful endeavours, to say nothing of having a life partner. But my way? Where I just work and love my friends? It’s safer. It’s choosing to want what I know I can have. I can’t manifest someone I’m in love with out of thin air, and if I did, I would still have to face and be seen in my mortal imperfection. It’s painful to keep longing for old love that isn’t meant to be. It’s nauseating to stare at a biological clock and play the mental tape of, “Well, if I met someone now, and we dated for a year, and decided to get married, by then I would have X much time to have one child.” Yikes. So, I decided to not want those kids! Time and love are things I can’t control, so I’d rather convince myself to want freedom, self-reliance, and the pursuit of great art. Why couldn’t I love working forever, having boyfriends as I wish, and never getting bored by the 18 year imprisonment and financial ruin of raising children?