My husband and I don’t want to have kids. And that’s OK. That might change, but right now we’re happy with the way things are and want to keep them that way. You disagree. Quite vehemently. Disagreement between us is nothing new – we disagree on a lot of things and that’s OK. What’s not OK, however, is being disrespectful of our decisions.

I understand that your constant challenges towards this particular decision come from a good place. I really do. But what you want for us isn’t necessarily what we want for ourselves.

I’ve never really been into kids, you know that. While other little girls loved to feed, change and nurture their plastic dollies, I was elsewhere, playing dress-up and make-believe. I was more interested in being a kid than pretending to look after one. Despite your predictions, nothing changed as I grew older. I didn’t want to babysit the neighbours’ kids and I only managed to stick teaching for a year before quitting because I was exhausted all the time.

You used to shrug off my disinterest by saying that I’d grow out of it, that I’d just wake up one day and wouldn’t just want a baby, I’d need one. But as the years have gone by and my biological clock has continued to tick along without the slightest hint of alarm, you have changed tack. Unable to accept that our choice is because of our fundamental lack of interest in parenting, you have started to accuse me of wilfully denying myself a baby as a way of rebelling against society. And, of course, my mother-in law.

I suppose you imagine us bonding over motherhood, but children aren’t the answer to broken relationships

I freely admit that I find my mother-in-law irritating but what you accuse me of is not only ridiculous, it’s quite unkind.

Our decision to remain childfree wasn’t made lightly; it was painstaking and deliberate. I’ve spent hours thinking about whether we should have kids or not – weighing up the pros and cons, envisioning life in each scenario and listening to our friends’ experiences. But the answer has always remained: Kids? No, thank you.

I know that’s hard for you to understand. I know you desperately want grandkids and I think that is partly because our relationship is distant. You want to repair the damage you did when you left Dad for your boyfriend, and to have a closer relationship with me. I suppose you imagine us bonding over the trials of motherhood and through the sharing of your parenting experiences and knowledge. But children aren’t the answer to broken relationships, you know that.

When I was a kid, you were a great mum, kind and caring, always so patient. But being a good parent means that at some point, you need to acknowledge that your child has become an adult. And as such, has the right to make their own decisions, even if you disagree with them. That’s all I’m asking you to do. I’m asking you to be a good parent and to treat us as your equals; I’m asking you, very nicely, to stop the eye rolling and raised voices, to stop the snide jabs and sad looks, and start demonstrating your love and affection by trying to accept and support our decisions, rather than trying to change them.

Sincerely, Your loving daughter