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Hey, everybody. Welcome back to the Tamsen Show. I'm so glad you're here. I want to ask you something. Have you ever been to a party, just making some small talk with somebody you just met, and out of nowhere they ask, so, do you have kids? It seems like a totally simple question, but for me, for a long time, it was the kind of question that could totally derail my night. I kind of choke on the answer. Sort of shrug, laugh it off. Because no matter what I said, I felt like I was being judged against a script I didn't actually write. And that was what I felt. Especially in my 30s and 40s, society had a really clear idea of what a woman should be. Get married, have kids, do it on time. And if you don't follow that timeline, people can get uncomfortable and sometimes judgmental. For a long time, I avoided the conversation completely. But the truth is, times are changing. I'm seeing more women and men saying out loud, I don't want kids. And they're saying it like that, without an explanation and without an apology. I. I'm 54 now, and the question obviously doesn't come up as often, but when it does, I'm reminded of just how hard this still is for so many of you. And I've met a lot of you who have talked to me about it, and that's why I want to talk here openly about it, honestly and without flinching. So if you've ever struggled to explain yourself, if you've ever been to the party, been asked that question, if you've ever been made to feel like you're selfish or incomplete, and if you've ever been afraid to say the truth out loud, this episode is for you. We're gonna talk about saying those quiet things out loud. That sentence. I don't want kids. What to say, how to handle pushback, how to trust yourself more than ever. Before we start, a quick reminder. Reviews help us so much. They help the show reach more people who really need these conversations. So if you find this episode helpful, take. Take a second to leave a review with what you took out of it on Apple, Spotify, or YouTube. I read every single one of them, and I love hearing what really resonated with you. All right, let's get into it. I've never really talked about this topic in depth, and for a long time, I couldn't. I was a news anchor for 30 years, and in that world, for a long time, you didn't talk about your personal life. You didn't share opinions, you didn't show Vulnerability you read the news, stayed neutral, and just kind of held it all together. So talking about my health, my choices, or whether or not I wanted kids never even crossed my mind. But if you're listening to this right now, I want to tell you my story. Because maybe you're in the same space where you're just trying to figure it all out. Maybe you know what you want, but you're afraid to say it out loud. And I want to be the voice I wish I had earlier. Because the truth is, the fire never came. I know that fire some people talk about is a deep, unmistakable feeling of I was born to be a mom, but I never felt that. And I don't say that lightly in any way. I think being a mom is one of the hardest, most incredible, most selfless things a woman can do. I know what my mom did for us, but I also think it's not for everyone. And it's okay if you know or suspect that it might not be for you. For me, the realization started out early. When I was 14, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn't know it at the time, but that moment changed every single thing about the way I thought about motherhood. My brother was 11 at the time. I was making dinner, I was doing laundry. I was trying to keep things together while watching my mom lose her hair, lose her strength, and still try to do everything she could to be there for us and in school and at home and whatever way she could. And when she died, I then took care of her mom, my grandmother. So between the ages of 14 and 20 years old, I became the mom in a lot of ways. So when people talk about having motherly instincts, I wanna tell them I've been nurturing people my whole life. I just didn't do it through motherhood. I think that's something we don't talk about enough. The other ways it could come into your world. We assume that if a woman doesn't want kids that she's cold, she's obsessed with her career, or she's totally selfish. But sometimes the opposite is true. I've been taking care of people since I was a teenager. I knew what it took. I knew the sacrifice. I knew the energy. I knew it all. And I also knew that I didn't have that fire in me. Not for that, in this part of my life, not then and not later. And yet nobody really believed me. I'd say, I don't think I want kids. And people would laugh it off and say, oh, my gosh. When you meet the right person. You will. Or you're going to change your mind or. Or you're gonna regret it one day. Because who's gonna take care of you? I've heard it all. My parents used to give me things and say, one day you'll pass this down to your daughter. One day you'll pass this down to your granddaughter. And I remember thinking, and maybe not quite as literally as I do now, like, I don't see her and I don't feel her. And I never said those things out loud because it was too hard to explain. Something that people didn't really feel comfortable hearing. And. And maybe you know that feeling, too, of saying the true thing and then watching people shut down or shrink back or judge. Well, if that's you, if you're sitting there right now thinking, I don't think I wanna be a mom. I just don't feel that right now. But I'm scared. That means something's wrong with me. Please hear this. You're not wrong. You're not different. There's nothing wrong with you. You can be loving, nurturing, fulfilled and complete in life without being a mom. And I promise you, someone's gonna be there to take care of you. And you're not required to justify that to anybody. We just don't say it enough. But I'm gonna say it here because it's true. And maybe you need to hear it from someone who's actually lived it. I do think one of the hardest parts about not having kids, though, especially when it is a choice, is the fact that people think you owe them an explanation, not just a polite conversation, not like a simple answer. They want the full story. Like, what really made you get to this decision? Like, the logic, the emotional arc, the why? Because when you tell them, I don't think I want to have kids, it's suddenly like this puzzle they try to figure out. They want to know what happened that made you feel this way. Maybe they want to know who hurt you, maybe what trauma you haven't dealt with. It's like a lot of people can't accept the idea that you've just made this decision, that it's not a defense mechanism, it's your truth. And you feel it every time somebody says, maybe you just haven't met the right person yet. It is very subtle, but the message is always the same. We don't believe you for a long time. That really got in my head and I started to question myself, wondering, wait, do I really know for sure? I remember going to a fertility consultation. Not because I suddenly changed my mind, but because I thought I was supposed to do this, even though I was with the person I didn't think I was gonna be with in the future. I thought maybe if I just tried, I would get there like I wanted to want it. That's the truth. I really did. But. But sitting there in the doctor's office, listening to the doctor walk us through injections and timelines and retrievals, I knew that quiet knowing came back to me. And I realized I wasn't there because I had changed. I was sitting in that office because I thought that's what women were supposed to do. And I actually think a lot of women try to force a desire that we might not feel. We try to find the maternal instinct everyone says is buried inside of us somewhere, just waiting to be unlocked. But not everybody has that, and not everybody wants to spend their life searching for it. Yet we still try to fit ourselves into a story other people will understand. And that's what I want you to stop doing. I want you to fit yourself into your own story. I think a lot of that happened in my career as a news anchor, where you're constantly being told to connect with the audience. And let's be honest, a lot of the audience was made up of moms or families sitting around the television after dinner. And so there were these quiet expectations to talk about the school calendar, to mention kids, anytime you interviewed somebody, relate to the moms watching at home. But I didn't have those stories. So I felt like this outcast for a long time. I wasn't packing lunchboxes or navigating homework or managing sports schedules. And I used to actually feel guilty about it. Like, I didn't have the right reference points to do my job so well or to talk to certain people. So I stayed really silent because. Because I wasn't proud of my life. And I didn't know how to explain it in a way that people wouldn't question. I didn't want the raised eyebrows, the sympathetic nods, the oh, don't worry about it, you still have time comments. What I wanted is to just be able to have that be my story and be complete that way. Because that's really what all this comes down to in the end. This isn't just about kids. This is about feeling understood. It's about not having to constantly defend or explain the path you're on. It's about being allowed to know yourself and. And to trust that knowing. And maybe that's where you are right now as you're sitting here listening to this going, yeah, that's how I feel. Maybe you've said the truth out loud and had somebody laugh it off or say, oh, give it some time. Or maybe you've stayed quiet because it's just easier than dealing with all the assumptions. And then maybe you're still just trying to figure it out and that's okay, too, but you're afraid of what people will think when you finally say it. I want to tell you this. Wherever you are, you're allowed to not want kids. And you're allowed not to answer people. You do not have to search for a reason that will make everybody else feel better. And no matter what anybody else thinks, you are still whole. So let's talk about that moment when you tell someone that you don't want kids, right? So instead of saying, thanks for sharing that or tell me more, they give you this look like you'll change your mind, or, oh, my gosh, really? That's so sad. You don't know true love, or you just haven't met the right person yet, or the look that says, that's not a real decision, and you feel like then you have to say that next sentence. You have to defend yourself. I have been there. I've had the conversation where I say I don't think I want kids. And suddenly it turns into, like this back and forth, like I'm trying to explain, or I'm on trial for a life I haven't chosen. Like, my peace kind of threatens somebody else's plan. And I get it. Sometimes people react that way because they've never really questioned the path they took or because they want something different from themselves, which is totally fine, and they don't get it. But I think it's hard to stay grounded in your truth when people keep trying to talk you out of something. So I want to give you a few tools, because I don't think this is in any way about fighting back. I think it's about staying rooted in your decision, even when people might not understand it. So I have a few things, and it took me some time to figure out what worked for me. Cause it's been a long time. You know, I'm 54 years old, and I've been asked this question for a long time. So here are five things, if I drill it all down, that have really worked for me. First of all, I stopped explaining. I used to ramble on. And you guys know I can talk. I give my whole life story, starting with my career and my mom and explaining how I was a caretaker trying to convince somebody that I had thought it through. Like, hey, I promise I thought this through. But the truth is, you don't owe anyone a justification. If somebody asks you why you don't want kids, it's okay to just say, it's not right for me and leave it there. That's it. You know how they say no is a full sentence? So is this second I learned to recognize projection. When people jump to, you're going to regret that, or you're going to be lonely, or who's going to take care of you when you're older if you don't have kids? That is about them. That's not about you. Those are their fears that they're voicing, their experiences, their story. And I've actually learned to have compassion for that without absorbing it and getting frustrated with it. So I hope you can kind of listen for that with different ears, and that's a little helpful for you because I really had to listen to it and hear those words differently. The third thing, I started saying it out loud, and this took a long time. There is a lot of power in claiming your decision. When I finally started talking about this publicly on podcasts, on stage, on social media, to this day, I'm blown away by the response. I had a young woman stop me when I was walking, actually, to the podcast studio about two months ago and say, thank you for talking about this, because I have not felt comfortable talking about this my own life. Women from all different stages have messaged me saying, thank you. I thought I was the only one over these years. Well, I want you to know you're not number four. I found people who got it. One of the biggest shifts for me was surrounding myself with friends who don't need me to fit into a box in order to love me, friends who don't flinch when I say I don't want kids, friends who don't try to fix it, change it, or interpret it. They just get it. And if you don't have those people yet, and some of these are moms, by the way, I just want you to understand that if you don't have those people yet, I promise you, they are out there. And finally, number five, I made peace with the fact that some people won't ever get it. And this one I probably still work on to this day. It took me the longest, but it's true. Some people need a narrative that makes sense to them, and your choice won't fit into that narrative, and that's okay. You can love people and not let their beliefs determine your life if it's something you're still working on. And again, I'm always working on this. I get it. If you still catch yourself rambling or getting defensive, I get that too. And by the way, if you're my age and a lot of your friends, kids are going off to college and you feel like this little pang, like, oh my gosh, I can't contribute to that conversation. You can, just in a different way. I want to remind you, your life doesn't have to look like anyone else's to be valid. You aren't required to be understood, to be whole. And you don't have to keep proving yourself to people who aren't actually listening. If you know in your bones that this choice is right for you, trust that. Because it's enough. So let's talk about what happens when you tell the truth. You say it clearly, with no drama, no extra explanation. I don't want kids, or I'm not sure I ever will want kids, or it's just not something I see in my life. You can say it however you want. And then what happens? There's like a silence, maybe a side eye, maybe the well meaning. You'll change your mind, which sounds a lot like you're wrong. Even when you're clear and even when you've thought about it deeply, even when you said it a hundred times before, sometimes people still treat it like a phase you're going through. I mean, except with me now, because I'm in menopause, so they don't treat it like a phase anymore. But, like, you're not old enough or wise enough or healed enough to know what you want. I want you to know you don't owe anybody a justification for that decision. It only affects you. But I know it doesn't stop the comments. So let's talk about how to deal with those. These are the real life tools I want you to have in your back pocket when somebody probes or pushes or tries to make you second guess yourself, or you're in the middle of a. A conversation you just, like, don't know what to do, and you freeze. So one of the biggest ones is you'll regret it. I don't want you to get defensive because you don't have to explain your entire thought process. And trust me, I know you want to be, because I've wanted to be. But maybe try something like this. That might be true for some people, but I know what feels right for me, and I've thought about it and it's how I feel. It's firm, it's respectful, and most important, it doesn't open the door for more debate. Now, if people keep pushing because, you know, I've been to the Thanksgiving dinners or the Christmas lunches and brunches and people still want an answer, you can change the subject. You are not obligated to stay in a conversation that ever makes you feel uncomfortable or small. The next line. And I still get this one. I think when they say, you'd be such a good mom or you would have been such a good mom, this one used to throw me, because I actually know I'd be a good mom. But that was not the point. You can honor your strengths without choosing that path. So I've done this before. I've said, like, I really appreciate that. Yes, I have always been nurturing. But for me, it just shows up different ways in my life. Like, for example, with my nephew Sebastian. And it's true. I mentor women. I've cared for family. I show up fully in relationships. Being a good mom and choosing not to be a are not mutually exclusive. When they say something like, you're still young, which means you could change your mind. There is always a version of this, meaning you'll meet somebody. You could do it in the future. You know, you could have children when you're older. As if not having kids is a problem you just haven't solved yet. You can try this. I'm not waiting for a different version of my life to start. This is it. And I love the decision I've made. You don't need to validate your happiness with a timeline that doesn't belong to you. Because I think a lot of times we get really, really, really stuck on these timelines. So this next one is a little bit tougher because when family gets involved, I understand the sensitivity there. And trust me, I, you know, because I lost my mom at a young age, it really wasn't a conversation I'd had with her. But she did say that when I was growing up, you're going to pass this down to your daughter. And so I always had, like, this little extra guilt in me that maybe I was disappointing her somehow. It's harder when it's personal. So I know that a parent, a sibling, somebody who means well but can't seem to let go. Here's what I want you to think about doing. Set boundaries ahead of time. Let them know, listen, I understand you care about me, but this is a subject I don't want to debate or this is a Subject I don't want to talk about. You can be very clear without being cruel or mean or biting. It's so important to be firm without being cold. And you, my friend, are allowed to protect your peace. And. And finally, when you start to doubt yourself. I guess out of all of them, this could be the hardest one. Because sometimes, after all the conversations and comments, they can lead to confusion, and you start to wonder, am I making a mistake? Am I going to regret this one day? Am I going to be alone? I want you to know this doubt is totally human. I've had it. I still have little pangs of confusion. But. But don't confuse it with a lack of clarity. You can be confident in your decision and still have moments of reflection. That doesn't mean you're unsure. It means that you're thoughtful. And I want you to be like that. So when those moments creep in, come back to your why? Write it down. Revisit it. Remember the version of you who's been making this decision with full integrity. Because she still exists, and she's gonna be there with you for a long time. So you have to learn to trust her. Remember, you're choosing a life that makes sense to you, one that feels full, even if it doesn't look the way other people expect. You don't have to spend your energy proving that to anybody. I want you to just keep living it as you are. What if you're still not sure? Hey, Tamsen, I'm listening to you talk about this, and it sounds great that you made this decision, but what if you're undecided? Not everyone who hears this is gonna feel 100% certain about not having kids. And that's totally normal and totally okay. And I've been there. I know the place. And it can feel like a lonely, quiet, confusing place to be, because you can't really go around asking people their opinions, like, hey, what should I do? Especially when you're getting messages from every direction. Friends having babies, families dropping hints, social media feeding you images of a perfect life. And deep down, you're just trying to hear your own over all the noise. So if you're in that place right now, I want to tell you something really important. You don't have to have an answer today. You don't have to make a speech or pick a side. You just have to really get quiet and get honest with yourself and give that truth room to breathe. Because you don't owe anybody a deadline on your decision, and you definitely don't owe anyone a child. Just because the time is ticking. We've been conditioned to think that not knowing is a problem, that uncertainty means failure, that if you haven't figured it out by a certain age, you're. But sometimes not knowing actually could mean you're paying attention. You're not rushing or giving into pressure. You're really, truly listening to yourself. And personally, I consider you really brave. If this is you right now, please don't force clarity. Please stay curious. Try. And I know this one's hard to tune out the timelines and tune into your body and your energy. Have conversations with people who won't project their fears onto you because that's really important, to find that community. Notice how you feel in certain environments. Maybe around kids, around parents alone, have conversations with other moms. A lot of moms have talked to me about this. Sometimes that wanting some parts of parenthood doesn't mean you want the whole thing. You are allowed to want a family in a different form. You're allowed to change your mind in any direction and you're allowed to stay undecided for a little bit longer. Because this choice whether to become a parent is one of the most intimate, complex, life defining decisions you're ever going to make. So don't make it for anybody else. I want you to make it for you. If you made it to the end of this episode, congratulations. First of all, I want to say something though, really simple, but really important. I'm proud of you. This conversation is not always easy to listen to. And if you're here, it means you're willing to ask the hard questions, to look at your life honestly, to unlearn expectations that never really belonged to you in the first place. Whether you've always known you didn't want kids, or you're still trying to figure things out, or you've just never heard anyone say this out loud before. I hope the episode made you feel a little less alone. I hope it gave you clarity or comfort and maybe a little more room to breathe, to think and to choose and to live. And if you did feel something, or if any part of this spoke to you, please consider sharing this with somebody else who might need it too. I'd love if you could leave a review, send me a message. I always like to hear from you. Or just take a second to tell yourself, I'm allowed to make my own choices and I don't owe anyone an apology for them. So if you're a woman listening right now and you can't have children, I want you to know we are going to dedicate an entire episode to that. We want to continue having conversations like these. Thank you so much for being here, and I'll see you in the next episode.