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Relationships
The Unique Love of a Non-Parent
When one has no children, we develop different routes for sharing our love.
Posted February 6, 2021
Along the esplanade, a young man whizzes by on his bike. Our eyes meet with a flash of acknowledgment. I’m heading the opposite direction on foot.
He circles back. “Kate?” Despite my mask and sunglasses, Cameron recognizes me. I haven’t seen him in over a year.
We know one another from Toastmasters meetings we each attended for a while. I think he’s still in his 20s; I am three to four decades his elder. Both of us are writers, and we’d exchanged several draft articles for critique.
Next week he’s moving to New York City, he tells me. He’s snared a job at a magazine. They’re lucky to have you, I say, and wish him success as he launches this new chapter.
“You know how fond I am of you,” I remind him. He says he feels the same about me and promises to keep in touch. As he rides away, Cameron calls over his shoulder, “I love you, Kate!” I echo my love in his direction. I hope he heard me.
When loving like a drone, we scan far and wide and find many opportunities to spread our care and affection. Sometimes visiting briefly, sometimes swooping down for a more concentrated stay with those we care for. Think of a broad landscape view, with its shifting choice of focal points and elevations to explore.
When loving like a laser, we zero in on specific targets who receive our concentrated attention over significant periods of time. Think of a portrait view, with its closeup focus on individuals or small groups. Zeroing in on one’s family members is an example of laser loving.
Ask anyone who doesn’t have kids. We’re told variations of this sentiment over and over again: “You’ll never know true love until you look into the eyes of your child.”
Of course, having children offers a unique track to heart-opening and feelings of deep, lifelong connection. When you don’t have kids of your own, however, there are still many paths to access and express love.
So why are some parents quick to claim exclusive access to a higher quality love?
How do these parents know about the love non-parents feel and express?
Would these parents be less loving had they not had kids?
Do they think people like me would be more loving if we had them?
Many non-parents are held in high esteem. Think Mother Teresa or the Dalai Lama. A favored childless teacher. Some of our childfree relatives. Friends and neighbors who care. We don’t need their undivided attention to feel graced by their love.
When one has no children, we develop wider, sometimes less obvious routes for sharing our love. Like drones, we survey, select, and express where and with whom to invest our care. We can choose freely and respond when called upon as we’re able.
Some who attract this kind of love, like the little kids who learn to read by my side, will forget I ever existed. I will never forget, and that’s just fine with me.
Others, like my 86-year-old friend, know I’ll be on a plane the moment she needs me. I’m the daughter of her heart, she says, as well as a cherished friend. We both rest confident in our love for one another. I have a team of people who likewise fill that role for me.
Our language about children is often possessive. Children of our own. My son. Your granddaughter. Maybe that’s the source of an undercurrent of disquiet that can bog down between parents and non-parents. I like to think of us humans as more generous and interdependent when it comes to how and to whom we all spread love.
We non-parents aren’t laser-focused on progeny of our own, which frees up capacity to manifest love in a different, more diffuse manner.
Would I love Cameron more had I given birth to him? Who knows. I think mental gymnastics aimed at designating best in show are counter to the very meaning of love. The more pertinent question is this: When we come to the end of our lives, will we have loved others generously and tirelessly, to the best of our abilities?
We each contain infinite love, shared in small moments and over the course of lifetimes. Within our bloodlines, in our communities, and among families of the heart. While others love with the specificity of a laser, I love far and wide, like a drone. And that's just fine with me too.
