Why I'm Not Having Kids (And It's Partly Your Fault)

I actually like kids. They’re funny, chaotic, and honest in a way adults forget how to be. I love their curiosity, how they ask the most random questions, and how their whole world can revolve around a toy or a bug. I genuinely enjoy being around them. I just don’t want to have any of my own.

And the biggest reason is the parenting culture you and society perpetuate. It’s not because I hate responsibility or love sleep too much, even though both are true. It’s because when I look at how most people treat their kids, I get uneasy. I see too many parents who seem angry, rough, or just plain tired of their own children. The yelling, the snapping, the constant need for control—it’s everywhere. And I can’t help but think, what if that’s just part of parenting? What if becoming that kind of person isn’t a choice, but something that happens slowly, out of stress and exhaustion? I don’t want to find out.

The “Because I Said So” Industrial Complex

A lot of parenting runs on control. It’s the “because I said so” way of doing things. Kids are told to listen, obey, and not question anything. Parents end up ruling like tiny governments where obedience is treated as love.

I don’t want that. I’d rather be a guide than a warden. But in our culture, patience gets mistaken for weakness, and being kind to your child is seen as spoiling them. If being a “good parent” means becoming harsh just to earn respect, then I’d rather step aside completely.

And honestly, I don’t trust myself not to become that person. I know how life wears people down. I don’t want to wake up one day realizing I’m shouting more than I’m listening, and that I’ve become the kind of parent I never wanted to be.

---

Now Let’s Talk About Home: Culture and Religion

It gets even messier in African families. Parenting isn’t private—it’s everyone’s business. The minute a child cries or misbehaves in public, the collective "village" is ready to scold the child and shame the parent for being "too soft." Respect matters, but it usually comes from fear, not understanding. A lot of us grew up being scolded, hit, or humiliated “for our own good.”

Then religion gets thrown into the mix. “Spare the rod, spoil the child” becomes a free pass for being rough. The goal isn’t raising a kind, curious human; it’s raising a “respectful” one who makes the family look good. It’s more about appearances than connection.

In that kind of environment, being tough is seen as strength, and being gentle is seen as weakness. That’s not the kind of love I want to give.

---

So What’s the Alternative? A Quiet Rebellion

Not every parent is like that. I’ve seen the gentle ones. The ones who talk to their kids like people. The ones who stay calm even when it would be easier to yell. They prove that it’s possible to raise confident, kind kids without fear being part of the equation.

But for me, the fear of becoming the opposite of that is too real. The idea of being pressured to parent in a way that goes against my values feels suffocating.

So when I say I don’t want kids, it’s not about avoiding responsibility. It’s about protecting peace—mine and the hypothetical child’s. I respect kids too much to risk becoming someone who breaks them.

I’m protecting the version of me I still like, and the version of them that deserves better.