There were early warning signs that I wasn't destined to be a mum. Growing up, babies were more likely to cry than settle contentedly into the crook of my arm.

In Year 8 we endured a subject called Mother Craft. (Sex education might have been more useful than teaching us what to do with any happy accidents…)

I failed dismally, having cobbled together my scrapbook the night before it was due as I'd been too busy reading something more interesting like Shogun or perhaps Cleo magazines. How educational were those sealed sections!

I was lousy at knitting, had a knack for sewing seams crooked, and my attempt at making rum balls landed me a detention — there was too much rum in mine.

My parents were convinced I was going to make a great mother and wife one day but, even at 14, the only thing that inspired me was flying.

When I finished school with less than stellar marks, I still had no idea where I wanted to head in life.

I just knew I wasn't ready to settle down and have a family as my mum had suggested.

By the time I was 21 I was living in the UK, trying to figure out who I was, and where I really fitted in the world without the pressures of family expectations.

I met the man who's now been my husband for 30 years.

He was the first person to make me question whether being a mother was something I wanted or something I accepted as a biological consequence of being female.

It was liberating, if a little daunting, to be encouraged to chase my dreams, whatever they might be.

It was the first time I dared to think I might reach those stars.

That was the turning point.

I realised a career as a pilot would make it difficult to be the primary caregiver. And the lure of the sky was too strong to be ignored.

I chose a career as a pilot over motherhood.

"It's been decades, but that pressure for a woman to become 'complete' by having children hasn't entirely eased off women," Helene says. ( Supplied )

'You'll change your mind'

Plenty of people, including my parents, questioned my decision to not have children.

"You'll change your mind," Dad said, more hopeful than upset. "Wait until your biological clock rings in your 30s."

My mum worried, "Who'll look after you when you're older?"

And from an ex-boyfriend: "You'll regret it and it'll be too late then. What sort of woman doesn't want babies?"

Despite their concerns, I took to the skies as a commercial pilot at 24 years old.

At the time, less than 2 per cent of Australian pilots were women.

But I didn't see myself as blazing a trail — I was simply following my dreams, and trying to live up to my own expectations.

Yes, I'd overcome the motherhood pressures placed on me by some of those I loved most.

But now I had my own goals to reach.

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'Am I good enough for this?'

One torrid simulator training session, with an engine on fire and multiple system failures, I had enough brain power left to think, "What possessed me to believe I was good enough for this?"

Rationally I knew it was just a matter of training, but a deeply buried little demon of doubt made me question my ability, made me a victim of impostor syndrome.

Would someone one day realise I had no idea what I was doing? I learnt the hard way to follow the 'Duck Principle' — glide along serenely while beneath the surface I paddled furiously to stay afloat.

No-one would ever know my doubts and fears.

Being a woman in a largely male workplace has had many rewards — but one of the things that has puzzled some of my male colleagues over the years is my choice not to have children.

During one particularly boisterous union meeting where I was arguing for improved maternity leave for pilots, regardless of gender, I was asked, "Something you're not telling us, Helene?"

All heads turned my way and the room fell silent. I laughed it away but, in that moment, I realised my childless state put me in a strange category.

I wasn't a bloke but neither was I a typical woman.

Surely real women had babies?

'Not having children was a choice'

It's been decades, but that pressure for a woman to become "complete" by having children hasn't entirely eased off women.

When I became a seasoned pilot, several young women I worked with confided they found peer pressures to start a family almost overwhelming.

With the myriad of challenges in modern society, we all deserve support, not the weight of expectations.

I've been fortunate to have children in my life — nieces and nephews I adore, and friends who've generously shared their children with me.

I also have friends who aren't mothers because the dice didn't roll that way and they live with regret.

For me, not having children was a choice.

When I think back to my high school career guidance counsellor who told my younger self I had no chance of being a pilot and that I'd regret not raising a family, who left me feeling, however unintentionally, that I wouldn't be enough as a childless woman — I can say with confidence that she was wrong.

Life is full of choices; some that have irreversible consequences, some we can change as simply as our hair colour.

Learning to make those choices and having the confidence to back yourself is part of the journey.

Realising you're not the only one feeling insecure, anxious, confused can make it feel a whole lot less daunting.

Just remember: you're the only one who needs to believe in you.

This article is part of ABC Life's series on overcoming perfectionism, Good Enough, which includes essays by Em Rusciano, Celeste Liddle, Carla Gee, Ally Garrett, Helene Young and Michele Lee.