I used to think that making a decision wasn't enough on its own — I also had to make it acceptable to others. I needed reasons, justifications, the right framing. Something that would make people nod and say, "okay, that makes sense."
One of the most liberating things I've learned in recent years is this: some choices need no explanation beyond "I wanted this." Not because every decision I make is perfect, but because it's my life.
There are things I simply don't owe anyone a justification for. Here are three of them.
Why I don't want more children
I can't think of many decisions more personal than whether someone wants children — and if so, how many.
And yet somehow, as a society, we treat it as completely normal to ask, comment, push, and even hold women accountable for this choice. As if having children weren't a deeply intimate decision about your own body, your mental load, your life — but some kind of community affair.
For a long time, I felt like saying "I don't want more children" required a full explanation. That I had to walk people through my reasoning, list the emotional and practical factors, prove I'd thought it through carefully enough.
I don't feel that way anymore.
Bodily autonomy means being able to decide whether and how many children you want — without manufacturing a "good enough" reason for someone else's comfort. You don't have to prove you've considered it sufficiently. You don't need permission to want something different from what your family or society considers the default.
This is one of the most personal decisions a person can make. Which is exactly why it's no one else's business.
Why I chose this career path
The other area where unsolicited opinions seem to flow freely is work.
Why don't I want a higher position? Why am I not pushing harder? Why don't I take on extra projects, earn more, aim higher, "make better use of my potential"?
I understand where it comes from. We live in a world that constantly conflates achievement and status with personal worth. There's always an implied pressure to want more — earn more, do more, prove more.
But I'm an adult who supports herself, makes her own choices, and lives with the consequences. That means it's also my call to decide what works for me.
Maybe I could earn more in a different job. But maybe I'd also be more stressed, have less time for the people I love, or simply be unhappier on an ordinary Tuesday morning.
And honestly? I don't think I owe anyone an account of that trade-off.
My relationship and romantic life
This is probably the area where I've encountered the most judgment — and I suspect many women have too.
Who we love. How we love. How many partners we've had. What we've chosen to explore. What we will and won't accept in a relationship.
There's still a deeply ingrained social reflex that treats women's sexuality as something open to public commentary. As if we owe the world an explanation for how we live in our own bodies and who we choose to share them with.
I genuinely believe that as long as I'm not hurting anyone, I don't owe a single person a justification for my sexual orientation, my desires, the number of partners I've had, or the nature of the intimacy I've shared with them.
As an adult woman, I made those choices. They were mine to make.
And since my body belongs entirely to me, those decisions didn't need anyone's approval then — and they don't need it now.
I think a lot of women will recognize this feeling: the constant effort to live acceptably enough. To be a good enough woman, a good enough mother, a good enough partner, a good enough employee — all while somehow meeting everyone else's expectations at the same time.
But our lives are not public property. They belong to us. And in the end, the only person we'll truly have to answer to is ourselves — for whether we actually lived the way we wanted to.
