People always ask me if I’m enjoying parenthood, and I undoubtedly tell them how much I love it. But the fact of the matter is, despite how much I love being a parent, I hate having a kid. And here’s why.

Having a kid has proven challenging in so many ways. Beyond the obvious of sleepless nights and a never ending hole in my wallet, having a kid has, undoubtedly, changed our social life. Significantly. Many of our friends have stopped inviting us places. The truth of the matter is, we likely wouldn’t go anyways, because on the rare nights that we are willing to sacrifice one night of being away from her, we also have to balance time for ourselves, taking care of our relationship. Not to mention that it costs $15 an hour every time we leave the house without our baby. All of a sudden dinner and a movie costs at least $100 bucks. If we contemplate going out with friends, we will likely have to request that it is to a kid-friendly establishment and that we meet at 5 to be home before bed time, because despite the effort of inviting us (likely last-minute), going out to an 8pm dinner (to which we were invited at 6) and then to the bar doesn’t feel like a legitimate offer, knowing well and good that we have a baby. But it’s rare we even have to put in these requests because for the most part, they’ve merely stopped bothering to invite us.

In an effort to fix this, we invite them to our place. This causes another issue altogether; when others are in our home, they can watch us interact in a familiar environment with our daughter. They can see how much or how little we put her down, how quickly we pick her up when she cries, and how we offer her seven different foods until we find something she will eat. Few people are shy about criticizing our parenting style, whether or not they have children of their own. In fact, it would appear as though those without children make the BEST DAMN PARENTS. They always have an opinion about the ways in which we are messing up both as parents and in turn, messing up our daughter. We hold her too much and are too quick to rescue her. We are creating a brat. One even told us our at the time 5 month old would end up in therapy because of us. And these are our friends! Imagine what strangers think! I hate having a kid because everyone seems to know what’s better for MY DAUGHTER than me.

What most people don’t think about is the fact that we are choosing to raise our daughter to be in control of her own body. And that starts with infancy. We want her to feel secure, and to know that she doesn’t have to tolerate being touched if she doesn’t want to. We are intentional with instilling this in her early, as studies have shown that children who are encouraged to speak up when they are not comfortable are less likely to tolerate unwanted physical and sexual advances in the future. We want her to know that her body is hers and hers alone, and if she isn’t comfortable in a situation, that it is ok to speak up. Being that she is less than a year old, the only way she knows to speak up now is by crying and/or reaching for one of her parents. As she gets older, we will help her to replace crying with words to help her vocalize her comfort levels.

I hate having a kid because other parents are almost as vicious and judgemental as non-parents. Every parent has their way of doing things, and I dont doubt that well-intended parents have their ways because it works. For them. But that’s just it. Not all things work for all people. Babies are no different than any other aged or sized human. They have their likes and their dislikes and their peculiarities and their demands. It is the job of the parent to learn his/her babies needs, and respond to them. You let your baby cry herself to sleep because you need adult time? Totally fine. No judgement. Also not how we have chosen to parent. I want my baby to know damn well that I will be there for her when she needs me. You are raising your baby on a gluten-free, all organic, raised-only-in-your-backyard diet? Totally awesome. And honestly, quite impressive. And not what I’m doing with mine.

I hate having a kid because I may have to give my first true love, my Australian Shephard, Montay, to my mom, as she recently snapped at my daughter. Montay has been my number one for 11 years. We have travelled the country together in cars and on planes. Montay was my college roommate, my best friend, my confidante. And recently she made a choice to snap in the direction of my daughter rather than remove herself from a situation she evidently was not happy with.

If anyone knows me, they know about Montay. Our love is no joke. And now that I have a kid, I might have to send Montay to her Gammy’s. I hate the fact that I’m faced with this decision, as well as the fact that everyone has something to say about it. Some say I can’t do that, it’s her home too, she was here first. And to a degree, they aren’t wrong. But it isn’t their decision to make, nor is it their place to speak up. They don’t have to deal with the consequences should Montay attack. They don’t have to worry about how bad the bite might be and where, nor do they have to then face the inevitable decision to possibly put her down should the next warning snap make contact with our daughter’s skin.

The ironic thing is that for all of the reasons I hate having a kid, they are the same reasons I love being a parent. I love spending time in a home my partner and I have worked hard to make ours, and I love inviting others to enjoy that space with me and my family. Whether they choose to join us or not is their business, not mine. The door is always open.

I love knowing that I am there as a resource or support system to other struggling moms and dads, to those that want to vent about being tired and share embarrassing stories about whose baby did what this time and how much it smelled and how visible it was. I love knowing that I know the secrets to my babies needs, and that no one (besides her other mom) can comfort her or give her what she wants in that moment. And I am committed to following through on that promise to her. I love knowing her cries, her faces, and when she is too far out of her comfort zone and needs to be rescued.

It’s important to note the difference, as I live it, between having a kid and being a parent. To me, having a kid is how someone else views it. “Oh, Kels? Yeah, she has a kid now….” (read: Oh, Kels? She got lame, let’s not bother with her anymore). But to be a parent comes from within. It is a change you experience the moment you see your baby born. A change that forces you to put someone else before yourself. A commitment that you make to a helpless child that you will be her guidance, her voice, her protector.

You may always view me as having a kid, but I will continue to view myself—proudly—as a parent. And despite your criticism and judgement, despite the fact that you evidently know better about how to raise my child than I do, I will continue to be her parent. And I will wear that label with pride as that has become my favorite thing about myself. And as far as I can tell, there is no shame in that.