I have reached a new stage in life. It's inevitable that my friends and acquaintances will discover my age and ask, "Do you have any children?"

I'm fortunate in that I do not look my age, so it doesn't happen nearly as often as it could. Sometimes when I say 39 there's denial. Because OF COURSE I want to be nearly 40, it's been my dream for 29 years and I'm in such a rush that I've added 8-10 years to my age. Or something.

The response to my negative response re mini-me's is generally the same two words. It's how they're said that I find interesting.

"Oh, really?"

One version is suspicion. We'll call it denial again. I must have kids, I'm lying for some reason, what the Hell is my game?

There's pity. At my age I must have been trying, is there something unspeakable wrong with me, of which I refuse to speak, but may be juicy gossip?

Jealousy comes. "Oh, you lucky thing, I bet you sleep like you're in a coma every night and never hear MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY in your dreams. Bitch."

There's the other version of pity. "Tie a steak around your neck. Have you tried bacon? It's like a duck call for dudes. I know a guy, he's divorced with kids but..."

Some of that may be projection, but I doubt it. I've had these same conversations over and over. My recent favorite was the person who told me I have many good years left for childbearing.

As though my accomplishments in life mean nothing without rug rats to pass them on to?

My response to the Oh, really question is the same, regardless of tone.

"Really. I decided they're just not for me. I'm selfish with my time." It's a bit of a toss off answer. It shuts down further questioning by implying they should shut the Hell up, but gives a reason they can justify any way they see fit.

Judge away, folks, but like any grown person, I do what's right for me.

There's a lot of shame running rampant through our society and we do it to ourselves. Fat, skinny, rich, poor, married, single, young, old, liberal, conservative, straight, gay, apathetic, active. No matter what you do there are people out there who want you to feel bad for it, even the things out of our control, like sexuality.

Fuck all that noise, if you'll pardon my fucking French. I'm so over it. I've watched the effects of this systemic shaming on an 18 year old girl and I just want to grab her and run away to the woods until she loves herself again.

There isn't a specific date I can point to and say, "There! That's when I declined to contribute to the continuation of my bloodline!" or something less dramatic. But there is a time period in my life that I can point to.

I used to believe that it's been a gradual process and it's something that I no longer debate.

Upon further reflection, I realize I made this decision around the time I was twenty years old. I saw what happened with my friends who'd had their children early on, and that wasn't for me. At all.

Children aren't anchors, but they are major lifestyle changers. Or they should be.

I love children with a passion people have for puppies and kittens. I'm the stranger making random faces at the crying baby at the store to help distract it the poor, miserable thing. Socks for kids with cancer? Sign me up and they can have the ones I'm wearing while I run to the store for more.

I can be extremely patient with children, because I don't have my own that have been scratching on my last nerve for the past twelve years. This means my nieces and nephew know they can come to me with anything. I'll listen, and then I won't parent.

I was very involved in the early lives of my nieces and nephew, having lived with each of my siblings during the under 2 years. One niece called me her second mommy which was like, oh my god so sweet.

I've been told often that I would be a great mom with much surprise that I've chosen this route. I had never really put thought into the reasons until recently. I had mostly accepted my decision with no questions asked. As someone who tends to mull things over I found that a little odd.

So here we are.

I started thinking about having children the other day, after my friend suggested I have many good years left. I'll be honest, I wanted to stand up and show my narrow hips and reply, "These ain't childbearing hips, son, you best find yourself a bigger woman!" like these are the Victorian days, and we actually pay attention to this stuff. Like women are/were brood mares.

But then I asked myself what I would say if my nephew asked me why I never gave him any cousins to play with. I've always vowed I wouldn't lie to those kids no matter what they asked me or how difficult the subject.

Thank God they never asked me about Santa. Or what happens when we take the dog to the vet and he doesn't come home.

Because I am always, always honest with them, they take my word as law, which is pretty awesome. With great power comes great responsibility...

Well, insert name here, I could have had a baby once and I chose not to. At the time it was the right choice for me. I was young, impressionable, and broke. Irresponsible, and completely oblivious to real world repercussions of my teenaged angst-driven actions.

Yes, time has gone by and my financial situation has changed but that doesn't change my feeling of relief at waving goodbye to you children when you go with mom and dad. I love you guys so much, but I love me, too.

If I'd had my child, I never would have travelled. Living and writing the road less travelled is more than a slogan/logo for me. I may never have been prepared to write the books that I'm writing now, instead saving that dream for a someday that might never come, like so many other potential authors out there.

I wouldn't be the Aunt you know and love so much today; we'd have a different kind of friendship and that would be something I would miss, even if we never would have known about the differences.

I have you and your cousins to give me your love and acceptance and you have the knowledge that I'll always be there when you need me. I may be thousands of miles away physically, but I'll always answer your calls.

I love you, insert name here, very much.

And the kid will probably say, "K," and we'll go back to throwing balled socks at each other.

One thing that has changed is that I've found a partner I would trust to stay with me and fulfill promises as we raised a child. I'm thankful that he doesn't want one. Or another one, I should say.

He has a daughter from a previous relationship. She's a lovely, smart girl and I care about her very much. I'm looking forward to having a daughter without having to have carried her. She doesn't live with us so it feels more like a friend thing.

As stated in today's headline, she's made a grandparent out of her dad, the Companion I married last May. She made a different choice than I did at the same age, and I'm proud of her. I make no judgment, and I'm pleased she doesn't judge me.

While my guy and his daughter are still seemingly in shock from the news, I'm a little more objective. I get to stand back and be supportive no matter what happens and that makes it a lot of fun in a semi-perverse kind of way.

Though I've had no children of my own - and have every intention of keeping that streak active - I've been building experience. And now I've built a family and maybe that's what it's all about.

Perhaps fate really is out there and decided there needed to be someone like me to help several young families, someone who will love the children no matter what idiocy the parents pull.

Thank you for your time and keep on reading, my friends.