Jasmine Parasram.
I grew up in Adelaide in the 90s and early 2000s, a time when your biggest concern was whether you’d recorded the right episode of Charmed on VHS and if your Nokia 3310 had enough credit for the weekend. Life was simple. Expectations were negotiable.
But by the time I hit my mid-20s, it seemed like everyone was racing to collect the Holy Trinity of Facebook achievement photos. You know the ones:
- Photo one: Standing in front of the ‘For sale’ sign with that big beautiful ‘sold’ sticker slapped across it. Hands on hips, beaming like you hadn’t just signed your soul away to a 30-year mortgage for a place with ‘good bones’.
- Photo two: The engagement shot. Her hand thrust toward the camera with a rock the size of a Malteser, everything behind it artfully blurred.
- Photo three: The sonogram pic. A grainy blob that could honestly be a kidney stone, but everyone comments “Congrats!!!” like they can actually see a face in there.
If you didn’t have all three by 25, you weren’t just behind, you were an outcast. You’d become the subject of concerned brunch conversations where someone would inevitably lean in and whisper, “Do you think she’s OK?”, like you’d failed some invisible life exam everyone else had studied for.
The thing is, we were sold a very specific dream: get a degree, get a good job, buy a house, get married, have 2.5 kids, retire comfortably. It was presented as a linear progression, like a Mario level where if you kept moving right and jumped at the correct times, you’d eventually reach the flag.
Except millennials are the first generation to collectively reach the castle and find out the princess is in another castle, the castle is on fire, and also we owe $50,000 for the privilege of being told where the castle was supposed to be.
And then someone has the audacity to ask, “So when are you having kids?”. Sigh.
I’m not sold on the dream of having children
Let me show you the mental math every millennial woman does when that question comes up:
- Childcare costs: $25,000+ per year, per child. That’s more than I paid for my entire design qualification.
- The choice: Save for a house deposit or have a child, not both. Pick one, and pick fast because your fertility window is apparently about to slam shut on your face.
- Mental bandwidth: Running a business requires creative thinking, strategic planning, and the ability to focus. Kids obliterate all three. You can’t build something meaningful when your brain is consumed by feeding schedules and whether that rash needs a doctor.
I can barely afford myself. That’s not self-deprecating humour – that’s the economic reality of being a millennial.
If motherhood were a start-up, it would’ve failed in the pitch meeting. Because here’s what the actual marketing looks like: every millennial parent I know looks absolutely shattered on social media.
And I’m not talking about the curated Instagram moments with the baby in an organic cotton onesie with witty phrases on the front. I’m talking about the 2am Stories, the memes about wine-o’clock starting at 10am, the ‘honest parent’ posts that finally show us what’s actually happening behind the matching family Christmas pyjamas.
Where’s the aspirational messaging? Where’s the part that makes me think, “Yes, I want that life”? Because right now, it’s all survival mode, wine jokes, and people humble-bragging about doing the school drop-off in yesterday’s clothes. That’s not selling me on the dream.
Some people aren’t meant to be parents
And look, beyond all the economic analysis, here’s the bit I’m supposed to whisper but I’m just going to say at full volume: I don’t like kids.
They’re sticky. Constantly. They’re loud. That specific high-pitched frequency that makes my brain want to evacuate my skull. As someone with ADHD and sensory sensitivities, that noise is physically painful. They’re boring. They have zero stories you haven’t told them. No wit, no banter, no mutual exchange of ideas.
And before someone jumps in with “you’d feel differently about your own”, let me stop you right there. I know myself. I know my nervous system. A child isn’t going to magically rewire my brain to suddenly enjoy chaos, noise, and being covered in substances of unknown origin.
Some people aren’t meant to be parents. I’m one of them, and I’m completely fine with that.
My parent friends openly admit, usually after two drinks, that it’s objectively harder. They love their kids and wouldn’t change it. But also, would they recommend it? The answer is usually a very long pause followed by, “It’s… different for everyone.”
That’s not an endorsement. That’s what you say when you’re trying to be diplomatic about something that’s low-key ruining your life but you can’t say that out loud because society will crucify you for admitting parenthood isn’t pure magic.
The math just doesn’t math for many of us. And I think we’re the first generation honest enough to say it out loud.
Here’s what I do instead of having children: I teach freelancers how to raise their rates and develop business skills that build wealth and autonomy. The ROI on that is measurable, immediate and tangible. Someone goes from undercharging and overworking to building a sustainable business that funds the life they want.
For some of my clients, that means finally having the financial stability to raise their own kids. For others, it means funding travel, buying their first home, or paying off crushing debt. That’s purpose. That’s legacy. That’s impact.
I’m building something that grows my wealth, not depletes it. I’m helping other millennials build financial security in an economy that’s actively working against us. I’m creating flexibility and freedom, not adding 18 years of obligation and expense to a life that’s already expensive and obligated enough.
I don’t want children; I never have. And I’m done pretending that it requires a justification beyond “I don’t want to”.
I’m raising rates instead of raising kids. I’m building a business instead of a nursery. I’m investing in my own life instead of creating a new one. And honestly? I’m sleeping great – both literally and metaphorically.
