Arpinder

How are you feeling today?

In a space of transition. Feeling a positive pressure more so since hitting my forties to share. I’m not sure where that’s come from- maybe the loom of menopause on the not so distant has helped remove an expectation from others on me, maybe it has brought a finality to me which has ultimately felt freeing. Whatever the reason, an affirming shift to share my, our, childlessness, more stridently is where I’m at today.

It feels funny to say that now I’ve written it down, as to be honest, when I reflect on our journey, I don’t feel I was reluctant to share, to speak, to make known. I needed to talk, I maybe just couldn’t find an audience who understood. Unfortunate to say, but my general encounters when sharing were met with a bit of awkwardness - some folk just didn’t know how to respond. That can still hold true today. It’s frustrating and its othering. But I appreciate, I know, it’s never deliberate. And that, I suppose, gets me through. If I counter however, I can often find myself at a loss when parent friends and family members share a parental struggle I can’t relate to. This world however - in its omnipotent pronatalist, family centric charm - has conditioned me, from day dot, to view life through the lens of a family, of a mother, of an expectant. Add in a level of emotional intelligence and my love and care for my parent friends and family, and hey presto, abracadabra, I feel, I hope, I’m able to still provide some level of support for them. The right-ish words find themselves, the right-ish actions can appear. When I share a struggle in turn, the troublesome, creeping approach of that horrible little bugger…awkwardness, however, can be keenly felt by all. Don’t know what to say. Don’t know what to do. Let’s change the subject. On cue, the little bugger can make an appearance, literally pops out of my pocket. You could call us ‘besties.’

Maybe today, in my forties, the impetus to share, to vocalise, has flared-up. I’m enjoying navigating that space. It feels unbinding, it feels safe. My hope is that by doing so it could support others manoeuvre that awkwardness, and create safe spaces for all - be that childless or not - to have these important conversations without risk of saying or doing the ‘wrong thing.’

What are you most proud of?

That my measure of success in life is how happy I am. That happiness is a choice. That this belief has remained unchanged for me even throughout it all. A baby, once upon a time, was a hope, but it never equated to happiness for me. Fertility treatment was rough, the isolation of being childless in my family and friends’ circle, is rough, but understanding what happy looks like and feels like for me, has, and I believe, will always be, paramount. It has pulled me up, forced me to take stock, when life does it thing. That takes effort, it takes time, it takes space, but it can be.

Being childless was not a choice. I will have to manage that cruelty always, without exception. When choice is taken away, there’s clarity in the choices you can make, and choosing to be happy, measuring my success by how happy I am, is a space, a position that I most delightedly wade and bathe in.

What is your biggest learning in life so far?

That people’s shit belongs to them. It has nothing to do with me.

What are your hopes for the future?

For the childless and childfree community to be more visible and normalised. For their being enough understanding out there that  ‘Have you got kids?’ will be uttered a little less often. For the ‘childless cat lady meme’ not be a trope used to humiliate and denigrate but instead to celebrate and empower. 

What would you tell your younger self?

Be a little less fearful. I think I’d say that to myself today too - ha! Work in progress clearly!

My Grandparents, parents, Uncles, Aunts arrived in the UK from Punjab, India, in the 60s and settled in Southall. They were witness to and weathered far more discrimination than I ever have, and undoubtedly ever will. This was far ranging - racial prejudice, the separation of family, systemic oppression to name a few. Their trauma we all, as their children, I suspect inherited in some way, shape and form. And with that, I see that I can be more fearful than others.  A fear to try at times, a fear to fly at times, and that, I recall feeling so keenly as a child. So I’d say to my younger self, oh-so-eloquently “Fuck it- go do it! There is nothing worse than regret!’ 

When or where are you happiest?

With my husband, anywhere, being a little bit silly. 

Totally safe, totally away from the world, just us being a bit daft. The most fun.

What would you like to say to wider society?

Keep your eyes open to others, are their choices deliberate or could they have been inflicted. Be mindful of words, of well meaning intentions that might not be sensitively thought through - they can feel hard. 

Many childfree and childless people are working against an internalised pronatalism that is difficult to shift. Awareness of that I’d hope would help reduce the ‘othering’ we often can feel. See us. With all the awkwardness and difficulties that may illicit, see us to make it safe for us, to help you, help us be us without judgement, and live instead with equal acceptance and celebration.