A recent report reveals women in their mid forties today are twice as likely to be childless as their mothers.
Relationships on Female First
Almost three-quarters of those surveyed by the British Pregnancy Advisory Service found combining work with childcare daunting along with the challenge of finding 'Mr Right'.
For childless, single women like myself, the narrative we've come to expect, is a pretty tragic one. We're resigned to seeing articles debating whether we're too picky, selfish or ambitious.
Then, just as we're meant to be drowning our sorrows over Strictly, the prospect of Christmas grows dangerously close.
Christmas, the season of goodwill and charity which invariably brings with it that unspoken litmus test of whether you're a success or a failure. It's trial by extended family. If you've lumbered with the double whammy of being single and childless, it's game over.
Don't blame the parents. They, like us, are subjects of the social conditioning of centuries, which state unattached females simply don't fit.
Today the question remains - how could we failures possibly be happy? And if we are happy, what does that say about everyone else?
At festive family gatherings I often find myself floating around like a ghost. I must be included but I'm a probably bit of an embarrassment to various elders.
I can't be relied upon to chat about child care, multi tasking, baking, nativity plays or Victoria Beckham's new line. I'm rudderless, undefined and as one young person at the table once commented 'a bit weird'.
I've fantasised about swapping the pains of yuletide for a yoga retreat in Kathmandu or locking myself into a cupboard with a plate of mince pies, but this would only confirm that I'm both weird, and like all childless women, immature.
But here's the thing. One of the glorious things about getting older is that all that striving to be 'normal' increasingly falls away.
The painful years of racing the biological clock recede into the distance.
I'm alone but not broken. I enjoy much freedom. I get to lie in at weekends, I sometimes don't change out of my nightwear until noon, I can read delicious books and watch box sets whenever I please. I invest a lot in friendships and hobbies. It's not everything, but it's not a bad life.
I'm sure marriage and family life can be truly magical. But the grass isn't always greener. I certainly don't lie awake at night wondering why my husband won't touch me and I don't spend my life tidying up after little people.
Ultimately, I don't need a man or a baby to make me feel complete. I am strong. I am woman. I am enough.
The vastly outdated idea that those of us who remain 'on the shelf' are to be pitied doesn't serve anyone. What a legacy to pass down to younger generations of women who already spend their lives wishing they were prettier, slimmer, coupled up and had Kim Kardashian's backside .
This Christmas, I challenge other single, childless women to celebrate their freedom and the many meaningful connections they have in their lives. Find your own tribe. Forge your own path. Most of all, forgive yourself for not being other people's version of perfect.
tagged in single