Can I Do It Alone

Without Kids, Will You Spend Your Holidays Alone?

Sue Fagalde Lick alone in old age, Childless holidays, childless in old age, feeling left out on the holidays, growing old without children, who will be there when you're old , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear friends,

Today, I’m sharing a revised version of a post I wrote for my “Can I Do It Alone?” Substack on Easter. I don’t dwell on childlessness there, but the sad truth is that if you don’t have kids, you may wind up alone in old age.

I’m watching “American Idol” on TV and crying. All those weepy moms in the audience remind me that I will never have a child to love and support like that.

It’s Easter. I have been trying hard to be Zen about not having a family to spend the holiday with, but now the reality is sinking in.

This afternoon, a niece posted a photo of my sister-in-law surrounded by her grandchildren in front of a homemade birthday cake. They had gathered for a combined Easter/birthday celebration. The kids didn’t have to be reminded and cajoled to do something for their mother. They just did it. I am happy for her. She works hard taking care of those kids and my brother.

On my last birthday, which was better than average, I went to my weekly open mic, where my fellow musicians sang to me and made me feel loved. At church, having read my posts about my upcoming birthday, our videographer brought me flowers. My neighbors invited me over for supper. It was a little uncomfortable because there were four of them and one of me. But it was kind of them, and we had fun.

I couldn’t help thinking people felt sorry for me because I was alone. Hell, I felt sorry for me.

If I didn’t say a word, who would think to do anything? And when was the last time someone baked a cake for me?

Back to the moms in the “American Idol” audience. I started wondering what my kids would be like. Would I have a pretty daughter like my niece or a tall son who would adore me and take care of me? Would they add in-laws and grandchildren so my family could be as big as my brother’s? Would I never spend a birthday or holiday alone? Would I bake cakes for their birthdays?

Excuse me while I fetch some Kleenex.

Yes, I know. I could have children who would not show up for me. Several of my parent friends spent the holiday alone because their kids were busy, lived far away, or they weren’t getting along. Some people’s children have died; surely that pain is worse than anything we might feel about never having them. Babies don’t come with guarantees.

I had three stepchildren. When my husband died, they slipped away. What little I know about them these days is posted on Facebook. What if I had tried harder to keep in touch, to be part of their lives? Would they have let me? I don’t know. I didn’t know how to be a mom, especially when my husband wasn’t enthusiastic about being a dad, but I think I blew it.

By choosing Fred, I chose a life without children of my own. He was a wonderful husband. We were so in love. Who knew he’d have early-onset Alzheimer’s and die at the age I am now? I thought he would be with me for at least another ten years.

At the top of my to-do pile is my health care advanced directive form, which specifies what I want done in a medical emergency if I can’t speak for myself. It has spaces to list the people who will speak for me. It has been on that pile for months. Besides my brother, who lives 700 miles away, I still don’t know who to choose as my alternate representative. If I had children, I’d put their names down and expect them to do it.

Who else would care enough to hang around a hospital making life and death decisions for me? I have friends, but do I have the right to put that kind of responsibility on them? Should I recruit one of my cousins, the cousins I only see at funerals? What if I put out a call for volunteers? Would anyone respond? I’m stuck.

I will figure it out. I will find someone, even if I have to pay a professional. I just learned there are “nurse advocates” who will step in if you don’t have family to speak for you. But I’m jealous of those people who can call on their grown children for everything from Easter parties to rides to the doctor to managing their affairs when they can’t do it anymore.

When a couple has children, it starts with one baby but grows into a family, with young ones to replace the older ones who pass on to the next life. If you give that up for the love of one man or woman and they leave or die, you will be alone. On Easter. Christmas. Your birthday. The anniversary of your husband’s death. The day you win a prize. The day the doctor says you have cancer.

Many people happily choose not to have children and are confident they can deal with their childfree future. Others are physically unable to get pregnant or carry a pregnancy to term, and they will feel the loss all their lives.

For those of us who are childless by marriage, who have choices, we need to think very hard before we put all our eggs in the no-kids basket. If your partner is able but unwilling, talk to them about what will happen if they are gone, and you’re left alone. If they really love you, maybe they’ll change their minds.

I know this is a weird post, but it’s what I’m thinking about this week.

How was your Easter? Was not having children an issue for you? Have you thought about what will happen when you’re older?

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At my “Can I Do It Alone?” Substack, we talk about all sorts of things related to living alone. Come join us at https://suelick.substack.com.

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Accepting a Childless Life Should Not Be a Crime

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness, husband can't have kids, my wife can't have children, nosy questions, partners who can't give you children , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s illegal now in Russia to advocate a childfree life. Anyone who spreads “propaganda against childbearing” can be fined. Any content in films, advertising, media, and other online platforms that shines a favorable light on life without children is prohibited.

Russian President Vladimir Putin signed these provisions into law in November.

Russia is one of many countries where the birthrate has dropped, causing fears that soon there will lots of old people with no young people to care for them or to keep the country going.

Other nations, including the United States, are experiencing the same problem but haven’t done anything as drastic as Russia’s new law. They lay the blame on the childless by choice, but let’s be real. Far more nonparents are childless by circumstance than by choice. We don’t have kids due to infertility, physical or emotional health problems, lack of a willing partner, or lack of the financial means to support a child. We would like to have children but, for whatever reason, we can’t.

Is it wrong that after grieving our loss, we seek to put a positive spin on the situation? Even some of the posts I have written here suggesting ways to enjoy life without children might be illegal under Russia’s new law. Would it be a crime to name the many highly successful people who never had kids?

Thank God we don’t live in Russia.

And yet, we can detect the same attitude in our own countries, can’t we?

Remember U.S. Vice-President-elect J.D. Vance and his comments about how “childless cat ladies” don’t have a stake in the country’s future?

Entrepreneur/Trump advisor Elon Musk recently wrote on Twitter in regard to dropping birth rates: “Instead of teaching fear of pregnancy, we should teach fear of childlessness.” He suggested the low fertility rates stem from a cultural hostility toward pregnancy and child-rearing. “We need to stop scaring women that having a kid destroys your life.”

Well, let’s put some context on that last bit. When I was young, yes, our parents told us the worst thing that could happen, short of dying, was to get pregnant outside of marriage. It was the sixties, when unwed mothers were still being hidden away and forced to give up their babies for adoption. And yes, having a baby when you’re young, with no education and no husband, can throw a monkey wrench into your plans, but that’s not what Musk is talking about. He’s buying into the common myth that all of us without children are simply selfish.

This attitude isn’t new. Churches, families, friends, co-workers, and clueless strangers have been after us forever with questions about why we don’t have kids and when we’re going to get with the program. They imply that we’re immature and thinking only of ourselves, defying God’s will and depriving our parents of grandchildren. And now, we’re also unbalancing the population. Most of us feel bad enough without all this guilt and misunderstanding.

Birthrates are falling around the world, and many countries, including the U.S., are doing what they can to encourage more babies by offering tax credits, increased parental leave, and better daycare options. That’s all good, but it’s important to acknowledge that some people don’t have a choice and are grieving the loss of the children they might have had. If, like many of us here, we choose childlessness by partnering with people who are unable or unwilling to have babies with us, that should be no one’s business but our own.

Nor should it be a crime to come through the hard decisions and declare that life without children can be happy and fulfilling. Or that we make valuable contributions because we are not busy raising kids. Look at all the famous writers, artists, scientists, and government leaders who never had children.

I sense a growing belief that nonparents have been preaching to the younger generation that kids are a pain and they’re better off without them. That’s not true for most of us, but there’s nothing wrong with letting kids know they have choices, and that parenthood is not required for a good life.

Russia’s reaction is extreme. I don’t expect any other countries to pass similar laws, but the anti-childless attitude is spreading. All we can do is tell our truths and hope people listen.

I hope you are all off to a good start for the new year. Has your childless situation or your feelings about it changed with the coming of 2025? Please share in the comments.

You may also want to take a look at my Substack, “Can I Do It Alone?” which explores how those of us without partners or children can live our best lives.

If you feel inspired to write a guest post, please get in touch.

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Would you rather be childless than single?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless widow, choosing a childless life, choosing between love and children, divorce, husband doesn't want kids, living alone, wife doesn't want kids , , , , , , , , , ,

Are you terrified of ending up alone?

It’s okay to admit it if you are. Most people feel that way. I’m not as afraid as I used to be because I have been on my own for many years, but I know people who absolutely can’t handle it. No need to feel bad about that. Animals hang together for safety, and we’re hardwired to do the same.

In June 2021, I published a post titled “Do we commit to less than perfect partners because we’re terrified of being alone?” It’s still a good question.

I suspect I married my first husband because I was afraid no other man would want me. As I wrote in 2021, no one asked me out until I was in college. Too nerdy, too fat, not social enough, parents too strict? I don’t know. I was already wondering if I’d ever find anyone, if I’d be like my Barbie doll without a Ken.

I was afraid no man would love me when everything in my world told me a woman needs to get married and have children. So when someone finally wanted to date me, I didn’t ponder whether I liked him; I said yes. And I continued to say yes through a first marriage that failed and a series of unsuitable boyfriends between marriages. When I think of all the garbage I put up with just to hold onto a man . . .

By the time I met Fred, I had come to believe I would be single for the rest of my life. What if he hadn’t come along? I hope I wouldn’t have married another dud just to have someone. I know people who have done that. Don’t you?

When we want and expect to have children, when we are physically able and have no reason not to, and our partner says, “Nope. I don’t want to” or “I’ve already got my kids and don’t need anymore” or “maybe someday, definitely not anytime soon,” why do we stick with them anyway?

Is it love or fear of being alone? I knew my first husband was not a perfect match. I saw red flags all over the place, but I still married him. Because that’s what women my age were supposed to do. I had visions of domestic bliss and babies and a happy family life. None of that happened. What if instead of moving from my parents’ house to the apartment I shared with my husband, I had created my own grownup life first?

My second husband, Fred, was definitely a keeper. Such a good man, so in love with me, dependable, the kind of guy who puts up with your relatives and sits with you at the hospital when you get sick. But he had three kids from his first marriage and wasn’t willing to have any more. Should I have said no to him? I was 31 and fertile. I should have fought harder. Shoulda woulda coulda, right?

By the time Fred came along, I had been single for several years. I could have carried on by myself. But I chose to marry him. I chose to accept his kids as mine and not have my own. This time, the love was enough to make up for the rest.

I never expected Fred to be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in his 60s and die at 73, leaving me alone, probably for the rest of my life. I did not choose this. But here I am, alone in the house we bought together on the Oregon coast. Even our dog has passed away. It has been 15 years since Fred moved into a nursing home, 13 years this month since he died.

If I made different choices at the beginning when I married the man who seemed to be my only choice, would my life be completely different now? Would I be surrounded by grown children and grandchildren? I’ll never know.

This raises multiple questions for me, and I would love to know what you think.

* Do we commit our lives to someone less than ideal because we’re afraid of being alone?

* Are we willing to leave a partner who won’t give us kids and risk ending up alone if we don’t find someone else who does want to be a parent?

* What if this relationship ends in divorce or widowhood and we are left alone anyway?

Our world is set up for couples and families with children. It’s not easy when your “family photo” is a selfie. But we can do it.

I have started a new Substack series titled “Can I Do It Alone?” The answer to that question is, “Heck yeah.” Apparently, a lot of people are worried about being alone. The subscriptions and comments are flooding my inbox. If you’re interested, take a wander over to suelick.substack.com and see what that’s all about.

Meanwhile, here at Childless by Marriage, let’s talk about it. Did we settle for a childless life out of fear of being alone? What if this relationship ends?

Thank you so much for being here. I treasure you all.

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