Screw Love, I Got a Vasectomy
Okay, so maybe getting a vasectomy at 21 seems a little extreme. But let me tell you, after my last relationship spiraled into a dumpster fire of heartbreak, I swore off this whole love and kids thing. Forget it.
Here’s how it went down: I booked an appointment, and they laid me out on the table. My doctor gave me a local anesthetic (so at least I wasn’t completely out of it), and they made a couple of tiny incisions. They then clipped and sealed a section of each of my vas deferens — those little tubes that carry sperm. Boom — now my swimmers don’t have a way to get out during…you know. Yeah, it stings a bit now, but they say that’ll go away.
In about 4 months, I’ll go back for a follow-up test to make sure the procedure worked and I’m officially shooting blanks.
But hold up, why would a 21-year-old do this?
Why? Well, for starters, I’m 21, still figuring things out, and the last thing I need is a mini-me running around. Plus, have you seen the divorce rates? Yeah, not exactly encouraging. I’m not keen on playing the marriage game and potentially ending up in splits Ville with a custody battle thrown in for good measure.
It’s partly my own experience — growing up without a dad present made me realize I don’t want to put some kid through that. I know there are times I wished I had a father figure, and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way because of me.
Then there’s the whole responsibility thing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a tiny human. Diapers, late-night feedings, and the constant worry? No thanks. I’ve got enough on my plate trying to navigate adulthood without adding parenthood to the mix.
Plus, I’ve got dreams, ambitions, and a whole lot of living left to do. I’m not about to let a surprise pregnancy derail all of that.
But it’s not just about avoiding the dad life. It’s also about taking control of my own future. I’ve seen friends get caught up in unexpected pregnancies, their lives completely derailed in an instant. I refuse to let that happen to me. Call it selfish if you want, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my dreams for a surprise bundle of joy.
Of course, when I told my mom about my decision, she flipped out. In African culture, the role of a grandparent holds profound significance, and my choice to forego biological children initially met with fierce resistance. The prospect of not becoming a “cucu” was deeply unsettling to her. But after some serious conversations, we began to see things from each other’s point of view. She gets where I’m coming from, even if she wishes the future looked different.
A few things to clear up:
- This isn’t about unprotected sex. Getting a vasectomy doesn’t make me invincible against STDs. Protection is always a must, even if I’m firing blanks.
- It’s not about bitterness. Yeah, bad relationships suck. But this choice is about what I want in life. I want the freedom to build a future without worrying about accidental parenthood. If I change my mind later, there are other paths to fatherhood.
If you’re a guy in a similar boat — absolutely certain you don’t want kids and tired of the emotional rollercoasters — maybe consider a vasectomy. Sure, it’s a big decision, but it also feels incredibly empowering.
For now, I’m focused on myself — healing, building my life, and enjoying the freedom of knowing I’m calling the shots on my future.
