ln my life thus far, I’ve checked many boxes that are on the typical self-fulfillment to-do list: get into college, fall in love with someone who loves you too, make lifelong friends, graduate, get your first real adult job, move in with your S.O, etc. We like to simplify life into a series of milestones as if everyone’s winding path eventually crosses the same bridges.

So, now that I’ve done x, y and z, I’ve faced a persistent inquiry as to when I will reach “the next steps” in life: when are you getting engaged, when are you getting married and when are you having kids?

When are you getting engaged?

When are you getting married?

When are you having kids?

What these same voices have not asked is if I want any of these things in the first place.

These questions may be the result of a search for commonality among a web of infinitely diverse and unique lifetimes, but this need for simplicity can be stifling. Of these questions, the one I struggle with the most is whether or not I want to have children. To me, this is one of the most difficult choices you can make in life, but our society assumes the answer is automatically “yes.”

On one hand, these questions are often very different than the questions asked of young men my age. Women have always been cast as caregivers, with motherhood being the epitome of what it means to be female. I’ve scrutinized myself from this perspective, wondering if I really have this so-called “maternal instinct.”

I’m one of the youngest children out of my cousins, so I’ve never really had to babysit anyone. I’ve held a baby a whopping one time in my life when I was still a child myself. When it comes to the cuteness factor, I prefer cats or dogs, rather than these strange-looking aliens that will one day be fully fledged, walking and talking human beings.

But is that really what the role of a mother is about?

In contrast, in some of the most fulfilled moments of my life, I have taken on the role of a mentor. When I was an upperclassman on the girls’ cross country team in high school, I took great pride and joy in welcoming the freshmen girls to the team and cheering them on. It was vital to me to take them under my wing and promote their advancement, even though I dropped from varsity to junior varsity that same season.

In college, one of my fondest memories is becoming a Big sister to my Little, who had just joined my sorority and taken her first steps into college life. I am fiercely protective of my friends and aim to be there for them in whatever way I can.

Sometimes, I failed the people I aimed to be a role model for. But is being a mentor in any way comparable to being a parent? How on earth does anyone know the answer to the question: do I want to have children?

The truth is, I have no clue if I want to have kids or not, but I’m sure not going to get any closer to figuring out that intensely personal choice by having incessant questions tugging at me with every second that I grow slightly older than before. I’m still young, and I’m still figuring myself out. I’m going to dedicate my youth to promoting my own livelihood before even considering becoming responsible for someone else’s.