There is something I have never felt comfortable saying out loud.

I never wanted to be a mother.

I knew that long before I ever became one.

When I was younger, I remember telling friends I didn’t want children. They thought I was joking. They told me I would change my mind.

I didn’t.

In university, when I started getting serious with my first boyfriend, he told me he couldn’t have children. He said it as if he was disappointing me.

I remember letting him believe that.

Not because it was true, but because I thought saying I didn’t want children at all might make him think less of me.

So I stayed quiet.

And eventually, I followed the same path most people do.

You date.
You get married.
You have children.

My husband and I did the same.

Years later, we talked about it and realised something neither of us had said at the time.

Neither of us had strongly wanted children.

If we had been honest with each other then, we likely would not have had them.

But we weren’t.

So we did what we thought we were supposed to do.

When I became pregnant, I wasn’t excited.

There was no emotional moment, no overwhelming sense of anticipation.

Even then, I knew.

After she was born, I took care of her. I did everything I was supposed to do.

But the role itself never changed for me.

I didn’t enjoy the “mother” parts of life.

I’m not a hugger.

I was the one who thought, if you’re not bleeding, you’re fine.

I avoided field trips whenever I could.

I didn’t take photos at every event or occasion.

I didn’t get emotional when she started school, went to camps, or left for university.

Those moments never felt like losses to me.

They felt like things moving forward.

That never changed.

Recently, she was home for about a week and a half over spring break. She had surgery while she was here, so I was taking care of her — making sure she was eating, taking her medication, and that she was comfortable.

And I did all of it.

But it was exhausting.

By the end of that time, I was ready for her to leave and go back to university.

Not because I don’t love her.

But because being needed in that way has always felt like work to me.

Now that she is grown, I enjoy our relationship more than I did when she was younger.

I like talking with her. I like hearing about her life.

I like the parts that feel more like friendship.

But there is still something added to it because I am her mother.

And that part has never felt natural to me.

For a long time, I thought something must be wrong with me.

Because no one says this.

No one admits they never wanted to be a mother.

But loving your child and wanting motherhood are not the same thing.

I love my daughter.

But I never wanted to be a mum.

And that has always been true.

— Kate