I am childless by marriage. Husband Number 1 did not want children. Husband Number 2 already had three kids and a vasectomy. He did not want any more babies. But Husband Number 2 was a wonderful man who gave me everything else I could ever want and a love like most people never have. Alas, he died 10 years ago of Alzheimer’s disease. Now it’s just me and the dog.

I have published two books and more than 750 posts about being childless. People in the United States, Australia, Europe and the UK read what I write. They know so much about my life and my feelings, but my family has no idea. They don’t read my books or my blogs, and we certainly don’t talk about my life as a childless widow. One Thanksgiving when I was wishing I had children and grandchildren, my sister-in-law said, “It’s your own fault,” which cut me so deeply I’ve never brought it up again.

What do they say to each other when I’m not listening? Poor Susie got divorced and remarried (not in the church!), and then her second husband died. No children. Poor thing. Do they blame my insistence on going to college, working as a journalist and then a freelance writer? Do they even know how much time I have also devoted to music, playing for my church and doing gigs all over town? Do they think I was too busy to have children, that I wouldn’t give anything for a son or daughter who might call and say, “Hi Mom, how are you?” Do they understand that I have a full life without children and a husband?

I am so grateful to the people gathered here who get it. I did not have fertility problems, unless you count the fact that because of his vasectomy, my second husband had no sperm. But being childless has made my life so different from the lives of most people I know. At my age, most folks assume I’m a grandmother.

A year or so ago, I joined a new church. The pastor likes to challenge folks with questions during his homilies. One day he turned to me with a question about parenting. “I don’t have any kids, so I don’t know,” he said. “Sue, what would you do?” I stared at him. “I don’t have any children either.”

Flummoxed, he said something about picking the wrong person, then turned to someone else. I felt like I had been outed. Wow, she’s not only a widow but she never had children (and she’s Catholic!). Is she a sinner or infertile? No one has asked for an explanation. They just praise my singing and piano-playing.

I have gotten better about expressing myself. When my brother sent me photos of him having fun with his children and grandchildren at Easter, I emailed back that I was “jealous as hell.” He didn’t respond to that, but at least I put it out there. I want what he has and I can’t have it. I let it slip away more than 30 years ago, and there’s no Control Z on life; I can’t undo it.

Earlier this year, I asked the readers of my Childless by Marriage blog if they felt the need to read it and comment in secret. Many said they didn’t dare have it open on their screens if their partner was around. He or she would not understand, might get angry, might be surprised that they’re not “over it” yet. To avoid the argument, they read the blog in their car or the bathroom or somewhere else they could be alone with no one looking over their shoulder. Some typed in their anonymous comments when their partners were asleep. I had never considered this before.

I live alone; no one sees what I read or write on my computer or my phone. I wouldn’t hide it if I did. Or would I? Between marriages, I was in an abusive relationship. I loved the man, but I also feared him. He got angry about little things, like the handsome actor’s photo I thumbtacked to my bulletin board at work or a conversation I had with another man. Or that I said “no” to something he wanted me to do. What if he had caught me on a site like Childless by Marriage? I suspect I’d be in trouble.

We shouldn’t be afraid. We mustn’t. I am telling you things here that I have never told anyone in my family. I don’t feel as if I can tell them. But it’s important that we share our stories so we don’t have to carry them alone. If we can get at least one other person to understand, it will be a much better world for all of us.

Sue

Sue Fagalde Lick is the author of Childless by Marriage and Love or Children: When You Can’t Have Both.