On Saturday, a man I had known for five minutes asked me why I was almost thirty six and childless, he must be the hundredth person to ask and I tell you – it’s like taking a freaking bullet each time!
This man judged me, a man whose own life was less than perfect. Does he have a right to know? Am I less of a person if I never marry or have children – am I subhuman?
For some reason I am thinking of A.I. when the boy robot is wishing to the blue fairy to make him real, why couldn’t I have been real too?
I no longer grieve for children and I embrace life as it is, however, it still hurts to think that I am less than complete, some subhuman robot or dysfunctional gene’d freak