Nicole Louie on being a woman without kids

The author of Others Like Me joined me for a candid conversation

Just a quick update: Last week, Maggie at Estranged shared more from our conversation, including about how we frame mothers who leave vs. fathers who leave, both in life and in culture. I hope you’ll check it out.

Really 'Bad Mothers'

---

This week I’m excited to share my interview with Nicole Louie, who I met when she and Rose Diell joined me to talk about their new books at my local bookshop.

L-R: Rose, me, and Nicole

Nicole is a writer and translator based in Ireland. Her essays have appeared in Oh Reader Magazine, The Walrus and The Guardian, and her curated collections of books, movies and podcasts about women who are not mothers by choice, infertility, circumstance or ambivalence can be found on Instagram: @bynicolelouie. Others Like Me: The Lives of Women Without Children is her first book. It is the story of fourteen women around the world, from different walks of life, who don't have children. It's also the story of why Nicole had to find them and what they taught her. Part memoir, part exploration of childlessness through candid conversations, this book showcases the many ways in which women find fulfillment outside of motherhood. You can buy a copy here: linktr.ee/nicolelouie

Here's an excerpt from our recent conversation about realizing we don’t want kids, and how we talk to our parents about our choice when it means they might never be grandparents.

---

Monica Cardenas

You write in your book that you never really wanted to have children. So can you talk about when you first realized that and that it was unusual? When did it dawn on you? How young were you and did you understand that it was not a typical choice or expectation for girls your age?

Nicole Louie

I don't remember growing up saying that, and I don't know how vocal I was about it, but in my head, it was a clear thought: I wasn't going to have children. My first memory of this is around the time my brother was born. Seeing how tiring it looked for my mother to care for my brother and me made me think, I don't want that. About it being atypical: one of my memories is from my first year at university. I was 17 and there were these two girls in my class. One of them started asking about marriage and kids. It went on to how many kids they’d have and what they’d call them. And I started feeling like I was watching a tennis match where my head kept going from left to right, watching the conversation but not contributing to it. I didn't know what to say because I hadn't thought about how many I’d have or of names for babies. One of the girls looked at me, waiting for my answer, and I said, “I don't think I'm going to have a baby.” And there was this awkward silence…

To me, it was very clear and perfectly logical. But seeing how they felt about the lack of my wish for a baby made me feel uncomfortable. The other girl said, “But you are a woman…”. She didn't complete her sentence. And I don't know if it was because we were both realizing things simultaneously or what. It was their first year at university too; it could be that we are all figuring things out, but it was as if she said: “You're a woman. And this is what women do,” equating being a woman to having kids. All I managed to say was: “Yes, but I would still be a woman.” Another awkward silence. It wasn't traumatizing; it just made me aware that my choice was not common or understood by those who didn’t know me well. My mother never gave me a hard time about it. Although, I think she thought I’d change my mind.

MC

When did you first talk to her about it or say anything to her about not having kids?

NL

I got married at 24. My mother and I were not on speaking terms then. I left her house, moved to Sweden, and spent a few years without seeing her. When she visited me, we focused on the feeling of reconciliation and wanting to be in each other's lives again.