A Letter To My Younger Self

I recently read a blog post by someone who has kids and was lamenting her pre-kid single life freedoms. The post was a letter to her young self about how she should enjoy being free, staying out late with friends, traveling and not worry about meeting someone to share her life with—or about whether she has kids; that her life would be just great without them. I love how people who are married with kids always joke about what a pain it is to be married, and tell single people how lucky we are to not have to “deal with” a partner and how hard it is to be tied down to kids.

So I decided to write my own letter to my younger single self:

Dear naive self who thinks she’ll just meet Mr. Right at that perfect age (no need to worry!) and who believes her uterus will still be able to produce kids at any age — please wake up and smell the coffee. Please stop dating guys who are unlikely to commit, or unsuitable, and stop putting up with their BS. Make a real effort to date nice guys and find one by age 35. If you aren’t married by your late 30’s, the pool of decent men who actually want to be dads dries up. As do your eggs. Believe the doctors who say the bio clock ticks ever-downward beginning at 35.

No years of partying, hanging out with friends, late night dinners and traveling around the world will never make up for the fact that you can’t have a biological child if that’s what you truly want. You can always travel, party, and hang out when the kids get older. You can’t always have children.

As a bonus—all of that money you’ve pissed away on travel, fun, clothes, hot shoes, dinners out, and wine tastings will be chump change compared to the tens of thousands of dollars you’ll spend on fertility treatments or adopting. Yes, you’ll have to actually pay for sperm (I know—it’s shocking to have to pay for it when you used to get it for free). And then you’ll have to pay for it to be put into your hooha while numerous medical staff gaze at your nether regions intently. Sexy, huh? Yeah, not fun. And I hope you like needles because you’ll be spending many a night trying to find the right position to jab a needle into some spot on one of your cheeks that isn’t inflamed by shot after shot of hormones you’ll need to get and stay pregnant — if you are one of the lucky ones who does conceive. But, go out, have fun.

Don’t think about the years you’ll be waiting to adopt a child. Single women are often the last to be picked by birth moms to adopt their babies. And what man doesn’t want to date a woman adopting a baby at age 48? Not to mention the cost of raising a child as a single person—no double income for you!

So go ahead and enjoy your freedom and living that wild and crazy, devil-may-care single life. It’ll sure be something to look back on.



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