Is ‘She Only Wants Kids If I Want Them’ a Red Flag? What You Need to Know
I was folding laundry three years into living with my partner, when the topic slid out of nowhere. We’d just finished leftover tacos, the coffee table still had a crumpled napkin and an empty hot sauce bottle, and I’d commented that my cousin was pregnant with her second. “What do you think, about us?” I asked, folding a fitted sheet wrong like I always do. She paused mid-roll of my sweatpants and said, “I’m good either way. I only want kids if you want them.” I dropped the sheet. My mind immediately jumped to all the takes I’d seen scrolling social media: any time someone gives up their own opinion on kids, that’s a red flag. They’ll resent you later. They’re just people-pleasing to keep the peace.
I grew up with a mom who did exactly that. She never wanted three kids, she said later, she just had them because my dad did. She spent 20 years quiet and bitter, so when my partner said those words, my first instinct was to shut down, almost. I didn’t, obviously. I just mumbled that I needed a glass of water and changed the subject. For a week, I overthought every conversation. I texted my sister, who said it sounded like a red flag to her. I brought it up at my monthly check-in with my counselor, who told me to stop assuming and just ask why she felt that way, instead of writing her off.
A few days later, we were driving to the grocery store in a light April rain, the wipers going slow, and I just blurted it out. “When we talked about kids, why did you say whatever I want?” She didn’t get defensive, didn’t change the subject. She just stared at the rain on the windshield for a minute and said, “I never was that little girl who played house and dreamed of being a mom. Some days, when we watch our neighbor’s dog and I think about having a little person to teach to bake cookies, it sounds really nice. Other days, I think about how we can leave the house whenever we want, go camping for three days without packing a million things, sleep in until 9 on weekends. That sounds just as nice. I don’t have a burning yes. I also don’t have a burning no. Whatever you want, that’s what I want because I want this life with you.”
That’s when I realized no one talks about this. We’re told we all have to have a strong opinion on having kids: either you’re desperate to be a parent, or you’re staunchly childfree, no in between. Anything else gets labeled as avoidance or people-pleasing, but that’s not always true. Some people are just neutral. That’s not a red flag in itself. The red flags are what comes after you ask follow-up questions.
The first thing I did after that talk was ask three specific questions, no big fight, just casual, over coffee the next morning. First: “What parts of having kids sound hard to you, right now?” She answered right away: “I don’t want to give up my annual solo art retreat for the first five years. I hate how much new parents have to cut back on the things that make them them. And I don’t want to deal with potty training.” That wasn’t the answer of someone who was hiding her true opinion to make me happy. It was honest. Second question: “If we decide to have a kid because I want it, and you end up hating it, will you tell me? Even if it’s messy, even if it hurts my feelings.” She said yes, she’d tell me. She’d rather fight about it than bottle it up for 20 years like my mom did. Third question: “What if I don’t know what I want either? What do we do then?” She laughed and said we wait, and check in every six months, and that’s okay.
One concrete thing we did after that was babysit my best friend’s 3-year-old for a whole weekend. It was low-stakes, we didn’t have to commit to anything, just get her from preschool, take her to the zoo, clean up the glitter she dumped all over the couch, and give her back Sunday evening. After she left, we both collapsed on the couch, drank cold beer, and my partner said “That was fun, but I’m really glad we don’t have to get up at 6 tomorrow.” I agreed. I still didn’t have a yes or no either.
What I’ve learned is that the actual red flag isn’t the “I only want kids if you want them” line. It’s when they refuse to answer your questions. It’s when they get defensive and shut down any conversation about pros and cons. It’s when they hint that they’ll hold the choice against you later, or they admit they’re only saying it to keep the peace. Neutral ambivalence isn’t the same as people-pleasing. It’s just honesty.
For any couple in this spot, that’s the practical takeaway: don’t panic and don’t write it off immediately. Carve out 20 minutes when you’re both not tired from work, ask those three specific questions, then do a low-stakes test like babysitting for a weekend to see how it feels together. You don’t have to come up with an answer right away.
Right now, it’s been two years since that laundry folding conversation. We still haven’t decided. We check in every six months, like we said. Some months I want a kid more than anything, some months I’m perfectly happy with our life just the way it is. She’s still pretty neutral. I don’t see it as a red flag anymore. I used to think I needed a blazing “yes” from her to feel secure, but now I think it’s more honest to say you don’t know than to fake a strong opinion just to fit what everyone else says you should feel. We still fold laundry wrong, we still have stray hot sauce bottles on the coffee table, and we’re still taking it one check-in at a time.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Is ‘She Only Wants Kids If I Want Them’ a Red Flag