The Motherhood Debate: As a millennial, I often feel like I’ve been caught in the middle of a tug-of-war between tradition and modernity, balancing the ways things used to be with how we want to shape our futures. That internal push and pull really came to light in my early twenties, just as I, like many of my peers, was faced with the first wave of “real life” decisions — the ones that shape how everything else unfolds.
In college, I had a very clear (and very optimistic) vision for how my life would play out: I’d graduate, land a job in my chosen field, meet a great guy, fall in love, have a couple of kids, and ride off into a happily-ever-after.
If only I could have warned my younger self, real life is a lot messier than a fairy tale.
The more I talked to friends and fellow millennials, the more I realized how common this was. Motherhood wasn’t even on the horizon for many of us. Some didn’t feel ready, others liked their independence, and many were (and still are) concerned about bringing children into a world that feels uncertain at best. For a while, I was on board with that mindset. I told myself I didn’t want kids either.
That was until a couple of years ago. I was catching up with my best friend over brunch at the Whitetooth Bistro — our go-to spot when she visits from the city. We chatted about life, as always, and the topic of motherhood came up again. Casually, I asked, “Do you think you still want kids?” We’d had the conversation before, but life is fluid, and so are our answers.
She paused, then said, “Yes, I think I still do.”
Her answer caught me off guard — until she explained why: family. Just that one word shifted something in me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it that way before.
Shortly after that conversation, my husband, who’d actually opened up to parenthood before I did, and I started talking seriously. We both come from big families, and the idea of continuing that legacy started to feel… right. And honestly? I love the thought of having someone to invite us over for dinner one day, the way we do for our family now.
The more I think about it, the more excited I get about the idea of sharing our lives with a future child — teaching them our hobbies, introducing them to our favourite movies and music, watching them grow into their own (hopefully responsible-ish) little humans, and guiding them through life’s twists and turns.
And for those who choose not to become biological mothers, you’re still an essential part of the village. I’m incredibly grateful for the women in my life who’ve helped shape the person I am. When my turn comes to raise a child, I know I’ll have that same community beside me.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m still 95% terrified of motherhood. But for the first time, I’m walking this path with excitement, not fear. I might not have followed the script I imagined in my twenties, but maybe this version — full of surprises, pivots, and perspective — is the one that was meant to be all along.
