KitchenTableAnswer

I loved her. I still didn’t want the future she wanted

I’m 37 and non-binary. I was seeing a woman for just under two years and we ended things in June. We never had much trouble with labels. She was my girlfriend, I was her partner, our friends knew and we spent Christmas with her family last year. From the outside it probably looked like we had avoided the grey-zone problem entirely. The grey bit was children. She had always said she wanted them. I had always said I wasn’t sure. At the beginning that felt honest because I genuinely wasn’t. I could imagine parts of it: reading stories, ridiculous school plays, teaching a small person to cook. Then I would imagine the relentlessness, the noise, the money and the fact that you cannot simply decide on a difficult Tuesday that parenthood is no longer for you. She is 35, so “not sure” could not stay harmless forever. Last autumn she asked whether I thought I was moving towards an answer. I said I needed more time. We agreed to talk again after Christmas. Christmas came and went. Then her sister had a baby and the subject became impossible to keep theoretical. I loved seeing her with her niece. I also noticed that none of it made me want a child of my own. I did not tell her that immediately. I kept waiting for a feeling to arrive because everything else between us worked. We laughed constantly, handled disagreements well and had built a life I actually liked. I thought ending a good relationship over a person who did not even exist yet sounded insane. By March she was sending me links to fertility clinics and asking whether I would come to an information evening. I said work was too busy that week. That was the point when she stopped accepting “unsure” as a complete answer. We had one horrible, calm conversation at her kitchen table. She asked if there were no deadlines, no fertility worries and no risk of losing her, would I actively choose to become a parent? The answer was no. I cried before I managed to say it. She cried afterwards. Neither of us shouted. She said she believed that I loved her, but she could not give up children in order to keep me and trust that she would never resent it. I understood. For another month we behaved as if understanding the problem had solved it. We went away for a weekend, cooked dinner, watched our series and barely mentioned the future. It was lovely. It was also a goodbye neither of us wanted to name. We ended it properly in June. I have had moments since where I’ve thought I should have just said yes. Usually on Sunday mornings when I miss waking up beside her, or when something funny happens and she is still the first person I want to tell. But wanting her back is not the same as wanting to raise a child. She messaged me last week to say she has started looking into becoming a parent on her own. I felt proud of her, devastated for us and relieved that she is no longer waiting for my uncertainty to turn into permission. I sometimes see people say that if you truly love someone, you find a way. I think we did love each other. The loving thing was admitting there was no compromise where neither of us lost a life we genuinely wanted.