I’m a childless therapist and since a portion of my work is play therapy, I can’t count the times someone has said “At least you work with children!” as if that makes it easier. I do feel incredibly lucky to have had hundreds of very meaningful relationships with children as their therapist or social worker. Some have introduced me to others as “My Katie,” likely because “My child centered play therapist” doesn’t roll off their tongues and doesn’t connote the unique role I have. It is a connection that is different from parenting or aunt-ing. I always look forward to going to work and yet it’s never made it easier to be childless.
I always expected to have children someday. That’s how I used to respond to families seeking services that asked if I had kids of my own. “Oh, not yet, but some day!” I felt like it gave me some credibility that I was on their team, a parent-in-waiting. My story of childlessness is a mixture of circumstance, fertility windows, and ambivalence. These days I have distilled that down to “Oh, it just wasn’t in the cards for me!” Most days that sentence comes out so easily and other days it feels harder to say.
My professional practice has always been a mix of child and adult clients. Over the years, my own childlessness has impacted the amount of time I want to spend centering parenting in my work, but not the amount of joy I find in connecting with children through play therapy. It’s a conundrum that I’ve decided to not feel guilty about. I can’t disentangle one from the other. It’s my job to work myself out of a job and guide the parent or caretaker to continue the work at home. I don’t get to see that part, to see that child grow. They inhabit space in my heart for the time we’re together but when we’re finished they are somehow still there, in my hopes that they are doing well.
Childlessness can be a lonely identity to embody within child therapist circles. I’m sure others working in other child-centric fields will agree. Oh, does pronatalism abound! It’s as if it’s on the mission statement. None of us were trained to behave any differently. Despite this, I’ve been so lovingly supported by some colleagues and I’m glad that I’ve taken the risk to share the impacts of being a childless kid-therapist. I think much like finding friendship as a childless person, it can take time to find the right one, but wow is it lovely when you feel truly seen.
Writing about this feels like a big risk sometimes. I was always so worried that my professional self wouldn’t be understood and valued if I ‘came out’ as childless or advocated for change in the field. Would adult clients think I couldn’t understand their parenting realities? Would single clients know that I have empathy large enough for their indecision about wanting to be a parent? Can I really be a mix of all these things as a therapist? I’ve come to realize, thanks to some very wise consult groups, and greater participation in peer support that I need to show up as my true authentic self.
I will always love working with children AND I’m childless AND I can be both.
Katie Maynard
Photo by Vanessa Bucceri on Unsplash