I’m 39, child-free, and married for 10 years; in contrast, most friends my age are on baby number two or three by now. When I see their social media posts, they’re either attending their kids’ graduations or vacationing in Tokyo Disneyland. Meanwhile, I just got my sixth ear piercing and impulse-bought two VIP tickets to J-Hope’s concert in Singapore. Instead of “moving up” ceremonies, my milestones include treating my parents to trips abroad and making a major career shift after 15 years. 

While it’s true that this path I chose afforded me the luxuries of time and disposable income, it can be a little isolating sometimes. Since my peers are at a completely different life stage, I find myself constantly seeking the company of like-minded individuals, which I don’t come across often, if at all. Being child-free when you’re single is expected, but to be married and child-free when you are perfectly capable of bearing children? “Bakit?” “Sayang naman!” “May problema ba?” are the inevitable, even if unsolicited questions I get.

So when Allure Philippines asked me to find stories that redefine “family,” I jumped at the chance. My lifestyle choice isn’t the only one raising eyebrows and defying norms. The four accounts below are also challenging the definition of this basic unit of society—and reclaiming the narrative of what family means. 

“Adoption is a journey of love and growth for everyone involved.” – Martha

Courtesy of subject

Quito was one year and 10 months old when he joined his adoptive family, Martha Herrera-Subido and Enrico Subido. The couple knew they wanted a child, and their decision to adopt fell in place after exhausting all possible ways to conceive naturally—including a couple of failed IVF attempts, non-medical solutions, and even faith-based ones.

“We were on the same page all throughout. We went through extreme highs—getting married, traveling, celebrating each other’s personal wins, and extreme lows—like the disappointment of not being able to conceive naturally. We’ve been through a lot together, and what we’ve developed is an open way of communicating with one another. The decision to adopt was pretty automatic because it’s something we came to as a unit,” says Subido. 

Herrera-Subido shares, “A pivotal moment was attending a pre-adoption seminar conducted by Generations Home, a child placement agency. It opened our eyes to the severity of the orphan crisis in the Philippines. We realized that families are the answer to the orphan crisis and that we are in the position to respond to the call.” 

Generations Home, a private nonprofit founded in 2018, is currently serving 100 families who are in different stages of their adoption journey—with hundreds more on the waitlist. As expected, the adoption journey is no easy feat. Its completion from pre-adoption paperwork and eligibility assessment to home visits and matching is at least the length of a pregnancy. 

For Subido and his wife, it took roughly a year before Quito officially joined their family. It started with two pre-adoption seminars, one by the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD), and the other by Generations Home.

But that was just the first step. Jasmine Buen, Director of Partnerships at Generations Home shares, “Those who have gone through the process describe it as ‘the hardest job application [they’ve] gone through’—and rightfully so—because it’s a lifelong job. You cannot resign from this.” 

“The reality behind adoption, although it is a beautiful thing, is that it comes from a place of brokenness,” says Buen. “There was a child not taken care of by [their] supposed family.” This truth has often been mishandled by Philippine media via teleseryes or news reports where adoptive children are portrayed as rebellious, out to get the family inheritance, or worse—ordered around as help.

“These are just the horror stories highlighted by the media,” says Buen. “There might be some outliers where that does happen, but that’s not the whole truth of adoption. By design, adoption was designed to respond to vulnerable children. We’re trying hard to highlight the positive stories—not sugarcoating it, of course, but [showing] the redemptive side of [it].”

Due to this stigma already associated with adoption, deep empathy and care are required of adoptive parents when handling conversations with their child or close circle. “The terms ‘real’ or ‘natural’ parent, or ‘real child’ or ‘adopted child,’ can be hurtful. Quito is our son and we love him deeply,” explains Herrera-Subido. “I think the biggest misconception is that adoptive parents are expected to keep the adoption a secret. Or that being adopted is something to be ashamed of. We believe in open communication about adoption. We plan on doing adoption-telling with Quito as early as possible.”

Subido adds, “We also told everyone that, moving forward, Quito’s adoption story would not be kept from him. This is for complete transparency and an effort to establish that there’s no need to step on eggshells when discussing this topic.”

Herrera-Subido opens up that they understand Quito will have questions about his biological origins later on, and they will support his search for identity. Until then? “Quito’s story is his to tell when the time is right,” she says. 

“What truly matters is the quality of the parenting, not the gender of the parents.” – Hanna

Courtesy of subject

Hanna Cometa had just gotten out of a five-year marriage upon meeting Ami, who was visiting the Philippines at the time. “My previous marriage was actually sort of a ‘need’ to be married, to ‘conform to what is normal.’ All my siblings were already married and I was the eldest of the girls. I think my parents knew I was lesbian, as I was not open yet, and they were trying to shield me from what others would say.”  

Hanna and Ami formed an instant connection and eventually moved overseas. “As my common-law partner, Ami sponsored me and the two boys, and we migrated to Canada in 2005. I believe that was when we truly began to build our own family.”

Hanna’s biological sons Carlo and Arnee were very young when the relationship with Ami started, so there were no explanations needed for the boys. “We never even denied to them the fact that they have a father. But unfortunately, the father didn’t make an effort to create a relationship with them until he passed away,” says Hanna. 

There were moments, especially in grade school, when Carlo and Arnee would question the absence of a father. “Over time, though, they seemed to come to terms with the fact that their family was different,” says Hanna. “I’ll never forget the time one of their classmates tried to bully our son about not having a dad, and he confidently replied, “’It’s all good—I have two moms!’”

If Hanna is “mom,” Ami is “mommy Ami,” whom their sons, now adults, have a deep love and respect for. “At times, I even feel like they share a closer bond with her than with me!” says Hanna. “The love and respect they show her are unique—it feels like a profound, grateful kind of love, acknowledging all that she has done for them in raising them, even though they weren’t her biological children. I say this because, since they are grown-ups now, I sometimes hear comments like, ‘Thank you for everything!’” 

Hanna sheds light on the gender bias that same-sex couples encounter: “Lesbian couples face doubts about providing ‘male role models,’ while gay male couples are questioned about their ability to nurture. These assumptions stem from outdated stereotypes about gender roles,” Hanna says. “One of the biggest assumptions we both faced was that, as two women, we wouldn’t be capable of building a family or raising our two boys. While these assumptions did affect us, they also became a powerful source of motivation to prove otherwise.” Hanna explains that in many ways, the fundamentals of parenting are the same regardless of the parents’ genders; love, support, and providing a safe environment are universal goals.

Hanna and Ami raised their sons in British Columbia, with a small population where everyone knows each other. “Over time, we became aware of who accepted us and who didn’t. Despite this, we always did our best to ensure the boys could participate in all the activities they enjoyed. We faced challenges but overcame them, believing that while our family might be ‘unique,’ we’re just like any other parents—focused on raising happy, healthy children.”

“It really takes courage to stand and be responsible for someone’s responsibility.” – Jazmine*

Jazmine Mondragon*, 37, is the adoptive parent of a five year old whose biological mother was in a complicated situation: married and pregnant with someone else’s child. The region sales head, who knew the mom, stood as the parent even before the child was born: “I took the responsibility and the rest is history.” Mondragon had always known she would adopt. It was part of her plan to have a stable life and career, a husband, and a child in her 30s. “It happened, although without a husband. It was a dream come true, given that I am gay,” she says.

As the family’s breadwinner, Mondragon admits it was challenging to add a child to her list of responsibilities, which include caring for her mom who suffered a stroke and financing her siblings’ education. “To have an additional responsibility is very hard for me, but I took it, because I know he needs me,” she says.

At the time she became a mother, Mondragon was still finishing her undergraduate degree: “Imagine, I took care of a baby while in college. It was so difficult. But I told myself that I would carry on, for my son—and I did. I finished my studies. He was also an inspiration to me because I want him to be proud of me. How can I encourage him to finish school if I didn’t?” 

Her favorite answer when asked why she adopted? “He’s God’s gift. He made my life more meaningful and gave me more courage to live.” Mondragon also credits her support system of family and friends for helping raise her son. “It’s not about me or my life anymore—it’s about a child’s life that needs love in the absence of his biological parents. He needs a family who will love him unconditionally with no labels.” 

This unconditional love means knowing that someday her son may want to find out more about his biological parents. “I am so ready to share his story with him when he asks. I won’t hide it. It’s also his choice if he chooses to leave my life someday—I don’t want to stop him,” says Mondragon. “At least, I gave him the life he deserves. I also want him to be able to feel complete, and if that means finding out more about his origins, I will support it.”

She does share one question her five year old asks frequently: “Mama, did I come from your tummy?” Mondragon’s answer is unwavering: “No, you came from my heart.”

“I didn’t choose to be child-free to be the queen of the corporate jungle. I chose it because it allows me to have the most well-rounded and abundant life.” – Bev

Courtesy of subject

Bev Almazan-Siongco, 39, is part of what this generation calls “DINKs,” which stands for “Double Income, No Kids.” The label is making the rounds on social media, but the term, although often used by millennials and Gen Z, was used as far back as the 1980s in the U.S., according to the TIME Magazine article, Here Come The DINKs. 

“What separates DINKs from most other Americans is a much greater percentage of discretionary income,” writes the TIME author. And along with DINK-dom comes the big “DINK Dilemma”—to procreate or not to procreate?

“More people are embracing self-awareness and questioning societal expectations,” says certified executive coach, speaker, host, podcaster, and content creator Myrza Sison, who knew she wanted to be child-free at age 21 in the late ’80s. “Instead of simply following what’s traditionally expected, Gen Zs and millennials are now braver and more adamant about pushing for what they really want out of life.”  

Almazan-Siongco did give motherhood thoughtful consideration when she got married. “My husband and I talked openly about it. While I had a strong point of view, my husband was more ‘go with the flow.’ For the longest time, he could imagine both realities and he would be equally happy about them. We got married in February 2020; the world shut down in March 2020 because of the pandemic. Our honeymoon stage was marked by forced lockdown, which was an easy recipe for disaster for a lot of couples. The forced lockdown was a litmus test of a couple’s foundational values and I was proud to say that our relationship flourished. It was the last week of the year in 2021, between Christmas and New Year, when my husband told me: ‘The two of us—we’re a complete family. And I also choose you, I choose you every day. What makes you happy will make me happy.’ We confirmed we have the same life pursuit: abundance and freedom.”

This freedom comes in many forms for the couple: disposable income, time, career, and mobility. “The best thing about being child-free is the freedom to create the life that I want. I will choose what I want to do, when I want to do it and until when, how I want to do it, and how much resources I want to invest in it,” Almazan-Siongco says. 

According to Pew Research Center, 44 percent of non-parents aged 18 to 49 in 2021 said it’s “not too” or “not at all likely” that they will have children someday—an increase of 7 percent who said the same in 2018. Furthermore, in 2023, Pew reported that 42 percent of adults say having children is “not too” or “not at all important.” Despite the gradual shift in mindset, a lot of judgment is still thrown at couples who decide to take this child-free path, with women often on the receiving end more than men. 

Almazan-Siongco shares, “The judgment that a child-free reality is a lonely path to take stems from the fact that people believe that bearing a child is the biggest value you can contribute to this world—and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. A lot of people define their happiness or fulfillment in the context of the value they bring to others or the world. While that is noble, one must not forget that we should first and foremost, define happiness and fulfillment in the context of reaching our highest selves.” 

Sison echoes this sentiment and says social media and open conversations have helped normalize the importance of living life on your own terms, and of finding  fulfillment that doesn’t necessarily come from parenthood. “It is no longer the end-all-be-all of life’s purpose. Factors like overpopulation, climate change, and the cost of raising children are also making people rethink the default expectation of parenthood,” she says.

When asked to share her biggest realization about being child-free, Sison answers, “That I made the right decision! My life and marriage have been incredibly fun, fulfilling, and free. A child-free life can be as exciting, joyful, and purposeful as you want it to be. You get to create a life that aligns with your deepest desires—whether that’s traveling the world, pursuing a passion or career wholeheartedly, or simply having the freedom to wake up every day and decide what you want to do and what makes you happy. It’s also essential to have clarity about what you want and why. When you’re firm in your choice, the opinions of others won’t faze you. People often project their fears or regrets onto you, but their perspective doesn’t have to define your reality. Trust yourself—you know what’s best for your life.”

Almazan-Siongco knows that the burden of non-acceptance is to be expected and only time will tell. “Child-free couples need to show up in our advanced age, glowing with the benefits of an abundant and well-rounded life.

“Until then, let’s write the blueprint,” she says. 

*Name has been changed.

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