Embracing a childfree lifestyle gave us the space to completely rethink what we value. We’ve dramatically reduced our purchases to focus purely on what matters most: nutrition, health, and genuine well-being. By reusing what we have and recycling all we can, we’ve broken free from the endless cycle of consumption. Living with less has freed up so much mental and physical space, and we’ve never felt happier, lighter, or more at home in our own lives.

I’ve found joy in living lightly and intentionally. Being vegan is the most meaningful choice I make—it cares for animals, people, and the planet. Additionally, I surround myself only with what I truly need; almost everything I own is secondhand, and when I do buy new, I choose the least harmful option I can afford. Part of this practice is keeping social media off my phone, limiting it to laptop use; creating distance from ads and messages that I need to buy and consume. Life feels fuller when I focus on connection and simplicity.

As much as possible and practicable, I buy used things. The first recourse is to buy as little as possible. But when acquiring something is necessary, I look for a used item first. Either through internet marketplaces or used item sites, garage sales, secondhand stores, or buying or receiving for free, or trading with a friend or family member. Reciprocally, I believe in offering items I don’t need anymore to others for free, either putting them out in the front yard, donating them, or giving them to people who could use them.

I try to practice a form of veganism that goes beyond just eschewing animal-sourced foods and towards examining the impacts of all my consumption choices on human and non-human animals. Do I really need to purchase this product, take this trip, or expend this resource given its impact on workers, human communities, wildlife, captive animals, or the environment? The answer is usually ‘no’ whether I heed it or not. I am fortunate to have “buy nothing” groups, dumpster diving “freegan” friends, clothing-swap hosts, and zero-waste influencers in my community motivating me to live this more conscious, values-aligned vegan life.

The most impactful decision I made for myself - and our planet - was adopting a child-free-by-choice lifestyle, ensuring that my carbon legacy and ecological footprint end with me rather than extending into future generations. As I defy pronatalism and patriarchy, I find fulfillment by cohabitating with my sister whom I share a home with. My lifestyle has allowed me to continue my education and build a career that bridges social and environmental issues. And instead of investing my time into raising my own children, I invest my time into my friends, their children, and my community through extensive volunteerism.

While I am far from a perfect example of anything, I have tried to incorporate what I’ve learned about how capitalism, animal exploitation, and ecology shape the choices I make in my own small sphere of life. I have been a vegetarian for most of my life and continue moving toward veganism. For four years, I kept a no-fly pledge, though I broke it last year to visit my son in California, a reminder that love complicates principles. At home, I replaced fossil fuels with renewable electricity and geothermal. I volunteer at my local farmers’ market, serve on the board of a climate nonprofit, and post on social media about plastics, fossil fuels, and health.

I was lucky to be born with biophilia—to love and defend nature. As a scientist, I assessed large landscapes for conservation, studied wildlife in five countries; as an activist launched campaigns for grizzly bears, jaguars, wolves, and coral reefs; as a teacher, taught environmental studies, entomology, and wildlife biology; and, after 50 years, continue working on behalf of my totem animal, the Andean deer. At “Scale Down” on Substack and Facebook, I explain why shrinking the human enterprise is key to saving the living world, including us. Except for pets, plants, and a few students, I’ve been childfree.

Once we settle into the theater, but before the show begins; we are asked to silence or power down our phones. We want to be fully present for the performance. There is an exclusive, never-before-seen production being crafted. You are given the ticket for this once-in-a-lifetime show: your own life. <br>

Will you be fully present?<br>

Being phone-free has offered me reverence for the happenings extending themselves to my immediate senses. The people, events, and environment of my experiential realm desire attention. For me, having periods of being phone-free has provided intimacy and satisfaction of the everyday ordinary.

I am childfree. Being a teacher for decades filled that itch nicely. We have one car used mainly locally. We are vegan/vegetarian, and enjoy growing food and native plants on our half acre. I help my husband with online outreach at Scale Down, advocating for lowering human numbers and reducing consumption such that other species and ecosystems suffer less from human impacts. International flights are infrequent for recovery of endangered giraffe in Kenya and tropical forest conservation in Ecuador. I bring joy to my community and self through music, fiddling at old time and Celtic music jams.

One of my favorite ways to give nature a little boost is to replant or propagate the discarded plants I find piled at the end of people’s driveways after a big weekend of yard work. I take them home and either plant them directly into the ground or I root them in little pots and eventually give them as gifts. While it has resulted in the opposite of a trim and pristine front lawn, my yard is always full of birds, butterflies, and busy pollinators, and I delight in giving them a lush place to snack and rest.