Childless in America: The Musings of a Childless Cat Lady

We are not defined by our fertility. We are defined by the choices we make, the love we give, and the lives we lead

A COLUMN by Johanna Elattar, pictured is “Sunday” who recently passed away

In a society that often equates a woman’s worth with her ability to bear children, being childless can feel like a mark of otherness. Motherhood is still viewed as the natural progression of a woman’s life, an expectation woven into the fabric of our culture. For those of us who do not follow that path—whether by choice or circumstance—we are frequently regarded with pity or seen as somehow incomplete. In America today, this narrative remains painfully unchanged.

I have experienced the struggle of trying to become a mother. There were times when it felt like my body had betrayed me. Miscarriages that left me devastated, wondering why I couldn’t carry a child to term, and adoption attempts that fell through, leaving me heartbroken yet again. Each time, I faced the question—what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be like other women? The weight of those losses still lingers, not only because I never became a mother but because society continues to imply that, without children, I am missing something essential.

There was even a moment in my life when someone called me “defective” for not being able to have a child. It was like a punch to the gut, as if all my value as a human being was reduced to this one thing I couldn’t do. To be told I was worthless because of infertility felt like an erasure of everything else I had ever accomplished. The cruelty in that statement stayed with me, an echo of society’s larger judgment: that women without children are somehow less worthy. But that idea is not only wrong, it’s harmful.

It’s important to acknowledge that some women make the conscious decision not to have children, for reasons that are personal to them. These choices are often rooted in deeply thoughtful considerations—whether they involve careers, relationships, health, or the simple recognition that motherhood may not align with their own vision of happiness. And yet, these women, too, face the same societal scrutiny. Their decision is often misunderstood or judged, as though they are rejecting some inherent duty. But the reality is, not all women want to be mothers, and that’s okay. Women should be able to define their own lives without the pressure to conform to an outdated narrative.

It’s a painful thing to carry, this unspoken assumption that women without children are somehow defective. It feels like the world looks at us through a lens that magnifies our differences and diminishes our worth. Yet, this notion is entirely rooted in outdated thinking that refuses to see women as more than their ability to bear children. For many of us, the journey to motherhood didn’t happen, but that does not mean we are less valuable or less capable of living fulfilling lives.

When people talk about childless women, the phrase “cat lady” is often thrown around, a casual way of dismissing our lives as something trivial, as though caring for pets instead of children makes us somehow ridiculous. Yes, I have cats, and I love them. They bring joy, companionship, and comfort. But to reduce my identity to being “the cat lady” is to ignore the fact that I am so much more. My life is full. I have passions, a career, and meaningful relationships. I contribute to my community and the people around me. Owning pets doesn’t define me; it’s just one aspect of who I am, and it certainly doesn’t make me less of a contributing member of society.

This stereotype, the idea that women who don’t have children somehow misdirect their nurturing instincts toward animals, is patronizing and small-minded. It suggests that without children, we are incapable of finding purpose. But being childless does not mean being devoid of purpose. I, like many others, have built a life filled with creativity, connection, and contribution. Our value isn’t tied to whether or not we’ve given birth; it’s found in the lives we live and the ways we engage with the world.

Being childless in America is a complicated experience, especially when the world continues to place such high value on motherhood. For those of us who have faced miscarriages, failed adoptions, or simply made the choice not to have children, it can feel like we are living in the margins. The world doesn’t quite know where to place us, so it either pities us or mocks us, as if there’s no room for women outside of motherhood. But this mindset is damaging and reductive. It minimizes the complexity of women’s lives, and it disregards the depth of our experiences.

What needs to change is the way society views women who don’t have children. There is no single path to fulfillment, and the idea that women are only valuable when they become mothers is not only harmful but also untrue. Many of us have used the space that not having children has afforded us to pursue other meaningful work. This doesn’t make us selfish; it makes us intentional about the lives we’ve built.

Motherhood is a beautiful and rewarding journey for many, but it’s not the only way to live a full life. I know that my life, though different from what society might expect, is just as valid and valuable. Miscarriages and failed adoptions may have left scars, but they don’t define me. I am not less because of them. Instead, I have learned to find fulfillment in the other areas of my life.

It’s time for a cultural shift—one that recognizes that a woman’s worth isn’t tied to her ability to have children. We are not broken, defective, or missing a vital part of ourselves because we don’t have kids. Whether we have children or not, we all have something important to contribute. Our stories matter, our experiences are valid, and our lives are just as rich and meaningful as those of mothers.

We are not defined by our fertility. We are defined by the choices we make, the love we give, and the lives we lead. So the next time someone tries to reduce me to a “childless cat lady,” I will stand firm in the knowledge that my worth is not determined by motherhood. I am a whole, capable woman, and that is enough.

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