My husband and I got married when I was barely twenty, skipping the big expensive wedding and simply signing the papers at the courthouse before moving in together. While most couples start discussing baby names during their first year, we had already made a major decision long before walking down the aisle: we were going to build a childfree marriage.
Choosing a childfree marriage was not a sudden decision we made overnight, but a deeply intentional choice rooted in who we are and what we want out of life.
People around us thought it was just a phase. Both sets of parents assumed we were speaking out of youthful rebellion and predicted we would change our minds after a few years of living together. But three years later, our position remains entirely unchanged—and my husband even got a vasectomy to make sure we stayed true to our choice.
It’s not that we hate children. We love playing with our nieces and nephews, buying them gifts, babysitting them on weekends, and watching them grow. We simply lack the internal desire to become parents ourselves, and we believe a child deserves to be brought into the world by parents who wholeheartedly crave that role.
When people ask why, I usually end up talking about the way we both grew up. My husband grew up in a household filled with constant explosive arguments, financial stress, and deep resentment between his parents. I spent my early years watching my mother sacrifice every shred of her personal identity, career, and mental health to keep our family afloat, often crying silently in the kitchen late at night. Looking at our pasts, we realized that marriage doesn’t strictly have to follow the traditional blueprint of parenthood to be complete.
Today, we live in a modest suburban condo in Ohio that we purchased together with a mix of savings, family help, and a home mortgage. We share our space with two rescue cats and a dog, who make up our complete, loving little family.
Most weekends are pretty quiet. We sleep in, make breakfast, grab coffee somewhere nearby, and try to save enough for one big trip every year. Last year we spent two weeks exploring Japan. This year we’re saving for South Korea.
We’re not naive about the future. We save a lot more than most of our friends because we know we won’t have kids to fall back on someday. We’d rather prepare now than expect someone else to take care of us later. That also means making different choices. We drive the same car we’ve had for years, think twice before buying things we don’t need, and put that money aside instead. It gives us peace of mind.
Of course, breaking away from societal expectations comes with its fair share of pushback and unsolicited advice from extended family and acquaintances. My mother once looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “When you get old and watch other families gather with their grandchildren on holidays, you will feel so lonely and regretful.”
I know she means well. That’s just how her generation sees family. However, we never argue or try to convince our parents that our path is superior to theirs—we simply ask them to respect a decision we weighed carefully for years.
The greatest blessing in all of this is that my husband and I are completely aligned in our core values. Neither of us felt pressured, rushed, or compromised. After three years of marriage, our home remains a sanctuary of peace, kindness, mutual respect, and lighthearted freedom.
Maybe we’ll feel differently someday. I honestly don’t know. But if you asked me today whether I regret our decision, my answer would still be no.