Ever since I can remember, I was sure I would die while giving birth. And in a way it’s true: part of you die, after you dedicate yourself to someone else.
At 30 I developed depression. During the therapy I finally started to become me. The idea of having to give that up for a child was terrible. But even though there were no pros in my eyes, I was still not sure, I couldn’t deal with the fear of falling out of the social norm and with my mother’s fear of me being alone in my old age.
I had set 37 as my limit for a decision, hoping that I would see clearly by then.
By the time I turned 37, my life-after-depression was only 2 years old and I wanted to enjoy my new me much longer. But at a certain age not having children is a final decision. This hesitation was stressing me a lot.
So I arranged a little ceremony to say goodbye to my unborn child. That set me free.
Since then I have been living my life as best I can. From time to time I ask myself if I am missing something. The answer is clearly no.
My chances outweigh the odds. My husband and I take the time to care. Just before Corona, an old woman showed up at the park bench near our place. My husband brought her coffee and something to eat 2 times a day, talked to her, and managed to get her placed in a social shelter.
When the war broke out in Ukraine, I was a volunteer at Hauptbahnhof. Later we hosted a Ukrainian refugee family and I took time off to help them with the bureaucracy. We can only do all this because we don’t have children.
Same with my startup. I want to change the world a little bit. My concept is to have locals create digital tours that take travellers to great places while introducing them to local life and culture. I want to build a global community that lives mindful behaviour and sustainable travel, and passes on respect and joy for their own homeland.
My childlessness is the only right thing for me, because I can give my power to change things around me.