You haven’t met the right one yet

You’re sitting in a café with this person. Maybe it’s your first or second date. The question inevitably comes at a certain point in the conversation: Do you want kids? And when the answer is no, the response comes predictably, almost mechanically— you just haven’t met the right one yet.

There’s something quietly unsettling about this exchange. Not because the question itself is wrong—it’s fair to wonder about compatibility—but because of what the answer reveals: the assumption that a woman’s certainty isn’t absolute unless it aligns with his idea of what she should want. That her desire—or lack thereof—is provisional. Temporary. That the right man, the right him, would change everything. But let’s pause before making him the villain. Maybe it’s not about arrogance or ignorance. Perhaps it’s about the invisible scripts we’re all handed—the ones that tell men they are the gravitational center, and women, the orbiting moons that our desires are flexible. Malleable. Waiting for the right reason to reshape themselves. What if we stopped trying to disprove a woman’s no? What if we believed her the first time?

Wanting to reproduce vs. wanting to be a father
Wanting to reproduce and wanting to be a father are not the same thing. One is rooted in instinct, in biology, in creating something that carries your name, genetics, and existence into the future. The other is about responsibility—about the daily, unglamorous work of raising a person, of shaping them with presence, patience, and care. Evolutionary psychology suggests that men have historically been driven by an impulse to spread their genes, maximizing reproductive success. However, fatherhood—active involvement in raising a child—has never been an automatic or instinctive outcome. Unlike motherhood, which is biologically intertwined with pregnancy and childbirth, fatherhood has always been shaped by culture, social structures, and personal choice. So, before assuming parenthood is the inevitable next step, maybe the real question is:

Do I genuinely desire parenthood, or have I been conditioned to believe I should pursue it?

The changing nature of motherhood
We often forget something else—how we once lived in communities where child-rearing wasn’t a solo endeavor. Women helped each other, shared the load, and created care networks. Parenthood wasn’t an isolated experience between two people struggling under modern pressures; it was collective. It was woven into the fabric of daily life. Now, those support systems have eroded, yet the expectations remain unchanged. The idea that every woman must want children is a social construct rather than a biological inevitability. Even hormonally, the release of oxytocin, the so-called "bonding hormone," varies significantly among individuals. Some women feel an overwhelming connection to babies, while others do not, and both feelings are entirely normal.

The psychology of fatherhood
For centuries, men’s roles in parenting were primarily defined by external factors—providing, protecting, and ensuring survival. Emotional involvement was often secondary. But in a modern world where fatherhood is expected to go beyond financial provision, emotional intelligence, and caregiving skills are just as critical. And yet, these skills are rarely actively cultivated in men the way they are in women.

So, ask yourself:

• What version of myself would I be bringing into parenthood—and is that someone I’d want my child to learn from?
• Did I grow up witnessing emotional labor, partnership, and care?
• Would I still want children if I had to raise them alone?
• Have I allowed myself to grieve the father I didn’t have, so I don’t pass that wound forward?
• Am I prepared to teach my child that family structures can be diverse and that love, care, and support matter more than staying together at all costs?
• Did I ever truly learn what it means to be a father?
  Or did I assume I’d know when the time came?
• Did I take the steps needed to change patterns and unveil what I inherited from my childhood?
• Do my parents still hold power over me, shaping my beliefs about family and fatherhood?

These aren’t easy questions. But they are necessary ones. Pushing for children without questioning one’s capacity to nurture, unlearn harmful patterns, and show up fully isn’t just unfair to a partner—it’s unfair to the child who will one day exist in that space.

A future where no one has to justify their choice
Imagine a future where a woman’s decision about motherhood isn’t met with doubt. She doesn’t have to defend her choice, justify it, or brace herself for someone insisting she’ll change her mind. Imagine a world where men don’t just ask if you want kids. But also, what does parenthood require of me? The burden of choice isn’t one-sided, where the decision to become a parent is made with the full weight of what it truly means—a future where certainty is respected, regardless of whether it leads to parenthood. Because parenthood should be a decision, not an expectation, no one should be pressured into it by a world that still struggles to separate instinct from choice.