Of all the things that make me different, it is my involuntary childlessness that I have struggled with the most. It is this that has provoked the most difficult comments from friends, family and colleagues, it is this that has negatively impacted my life the most, this that has plunged me into despair, this that has made me feel cut off from those around me, misunderstood and judged, this that has led me to seeking help from doctors and therapists, this that has made me wonder what the point of my life is. People have said such painful things to me about my childlessness, shown such lack of empathy, such unwillingness to acknowledge my existence, belittled and diminished and ignored me, told me that I don’t matter as much as a woman without children.

Compared to involuntary childlessness, the differences caused by my queerness and my neurodiversity have had less of an impact on my life and how people treat me. I hasten to add, this is for me only. Others have their own unique experiences and what I have experienced is only my journey, not to be generalized or to be used to say that what others experience is not important or that society is not still homophobic or ableist. I am also fortunate to live in the UK, in other countries in the world being queer can mean that your life is at risk every day. Even here in England, homophobia is still rife, but there is more protection, and more support.

Queerness is to be celebrated, neurodiversity, hopefully, understood more and more but I would never celebrate my childlessness and sometimes it feels as if I can’t expect it to be understood, even sometimes by those closest to me.

Being childless crushed my dreams, took away my confidence, trust and hope, is not an identity I was born with and is not an identity I can be proud of. I am proud of how I coped, and what I have made of my life, and what I have achieved and do for others and myself, but not of the identity itself. I don’t feel I can I celebrate the most heartbreaking experience of my life so far.

I am proud to be queer, this is an identity I love. I am proud to be neurodiverse, to be different. And I am proud of how I have survived childlessness, and turned my life around and used it to support others, how I have grown new dreams and found new confidence, but it is one difference I will not celebrate, not now, not yet.

But I will not be ashamed. I will talk about my childlessness and I will challenge people when they use it against me. I will not stand by and abandon myself, nor will I abandon my CNBC brothers and sisters. I will not be a bystander. And I would encourage you all to do the same, write about what you have experienced, talk about it, and if you can’t do that just yet, then talk about others who are childless, share blogs and websites and books about childlessness, make it clear that we are worthy, whatever we do in our lives.

We are worthy, we are not to be ignored, or diminished or belittled, put down or misunderstood. And one day, maybe I can celebrate this unwanted identity too.

Anon.