I’m almost 30, I have a job and I’m too poor to think about having a child.

May 26, 2021

A few days ago, as usual, I had dinner with some neighbors with whom I get on well. Friends of theirs were present, including a man in his 70s with whom I had a conversation that put me off my feet.

It happened like a hair in the soup. We talked about the economic crisis, the state of the world and the difficulties of young people. And then, all of a sudden, this man I didn’t know started explaining it to meI must not delay having children.

A new kind of injunction

This injunction, obviously unsolicited, many women like me who are approaching thirty know it. But this time she was not tied to the “beauty of motherhood”, nor to any imperative of femininity. Through the mouth of my interlocutor, the time had come for me to have children… to solve the economic crisis. Because more births would equal more consumption, and therefore an improvement in the national situation!

Obviously the hypothesis of a baby crash worries some people in the generations that precede mine.

Yes: according to this man we would be in a situation similar to the post-war period. Out of a patriotic spirit, the time would therefore have come for us young thirty-year-olds to do so have children and revive the economy thanks to our aprons! What’s worse, he wasn’t the first to point this out to me: several men I knew had already told me that in these troubled times, women should do this “war effort” and give birth more.

The economic reality of millennials

So firstly no uterus, no opinion “. But more importantly: I can’t afford to have a child! Around the table, all these people hastened to answer me that he “you shouldn’t ask too many questions”, that they too had had children before they had the financial means. But in their day, the job market offered better future prospects than a minimum wage…

In my eyes, money is an empowering tool. What guarantees that my boyfriend will stay and do the financial side of him to raise the child in question? Sure, I trust him. But if we find ourselves alone, what do we do? So I want to ask myself the right questions. Is imagining something other than bright tomorrows really not a good approach to motherhood? For my generation, it seems that having a child has become a luxury… especially for women.

On closer inspection, when one is already precarious, motherhood is equivalent to putting oneself in economic danger: career development is more difficult to obtain (as patriarchy says), it is more difficult to work full-time (therefore less money), and it is necessary to be able to support the daily expenses of a newborn. It’s not that I don’t want a baby at all, I haven’t actually decided yet… is that I don’t even have the means to consider itif I want to live with some degree of comfort.

At almost thirty years of work… And I am constantly deprived

It’s true that my vision may seem totally devoid of feelings of love or longing for motherhood. But I can’t imagine having a child while I’m financially on the road. Ensuring my financial prosperity is not a matter of accumulating money, it is above all not depending on anyone, no longer having to deprive myself… What I always dowho will soon be thirty.

For me, a comfortable life would be a life in which I wouldn’t need to count to buy foodwhere I shouldn’t choose certain weekends when I can’t leave the house because I have no more money for petrol (I live in the South West, outside the big cities)… One day, I wish I could own a house, not too far from nature: for me this is what comfort is linked to, rather than material opulence.

Going back to living with your parents in your thirties

I entered the job market five years ago. Since then I’ve chained up precarious jobs that only served to pay my rent, fixed-term replacement contracts during which I’ve never seen the color of five weeks of paid vacation. Today I have a more stable job paying minimum wage.

With this salary I experienced attics of 8 m² and a life in lodgings bordering on unsanitary conditions. So I made up my mind: I returned to live with my parents. Thanks to them, I can afford to build up savings slowly and hope one day I can afford a roof over my head.

Without them, my end of the month would always be in the red, while I don’t buy anything. This is the life that many of my working friends lead, among other things: towards the age of 30 we got tired of living so badly, so those who have this luxury have chosen, like me, to go and live in a house, with parents nice.

Honestly, what future can I reasonably offer a child in this situation? How could I even consider adding sleepless nights and debt to this?

The gaze of others, and reality

My older colleagues are quick to despise me for these lifestyle choices. I listen regularlyYou abuse your parents », « Aren’t you ashamed to live with your parents at that age? ” and other ” And suddenly, children, how are you going to do it? “.

But I, I just want to live decently. I participate financially in the life of the house, my parents agree with the situation and everything is fine. My boyfriend and I see no urgency in settling down together, especially in this difficult time for everyone.

These explanations, many elderly people around me do not understand, or imagine that young people “exaggerate”. Little do they realize that in this anxiety-provoking time, many of us are cutting short projects or changing our lives to gamble on some financial security. Refusing to change jobs or try other things. Because even while you work, time passes and our situations do not improve. The social pressure remains.

Yes, money matters

In all of this, you must know that by ecological and financial choice, I am a minimalist: I consume almost nothing in clothes and objects. Even with this lifestyle, I couldn’t make it without living with my parents. So you add a baby into the equation for the national good, because of the “baby crash”? This doesn’t make any sense! My savings, for the moment, I prefer to keep for myself and for my house project.

I hope one day I will have the financial security that will allow me to consider motherhood without worrying or being held back by the fear of being on the street. And I guess I’m not the only one: can’t this famous “baby crash” be understood as a social alarm cry if you think about it?

In the meantime, I think I’ll leave my uterus alone for a long time before betting on a bright future.

Ibrahim Rifath / Unsplash