Giota Rougala, 40 years old

At 20, Giota was certain she would have a child by 28. It was a time when everything seemed possible. Twelve years later, she simply says that “life changed.” Today she lives alone; the idea of having a child does not attract her, does not concern her: “I don’t have the energy a child needs,” she explains. Her job is demanding and consumes her entire days. The people around her, her friends, have no children. Does that matter? “It’s not that it influences me directly. But when no one around you has kids, the agonizing comparison ‘why not me?’ doesn’t even cross your mind.” Daily life is difficult, and when she hears about state financial incentives she expresses her disappointment — “a thousand euros isn’t even enough for diapers.” For the past five years she has accepted it: the “child” plan is over. She doesn’t say it with bitterness. The money she earns is now for herself, for her freedom. Some may ask her “why?” She herself found the answer years ago.

Christina Lyssa, 28 years old

As a child, Christina never dreamed of the traditional image: wedding dress, house in the countryside, two or three children running around. She imagined she would grow up, study, find a job, and someday start a family because that’s how life “goes.”
Now, at 28, the maternal instinct is absent: “I don’t think I want to have children.” She doesn’t know if that will change. She believes nothing is permanent. But even if she did want them, she knows desire isn’t enough. The country’s economic reality is a burden she cannot ignore — “How can I bring a child into the world when so many people live on minimum wage? When you work endless hours for money that isn’t worth the effort?” She lives with her partner in a family-owned home and pays no rent. Even so, the combined 2,000 euros a month is not enough. But the heaviest burden is psychological: responsibility. To raise a child “to be a good person, to have opportunities, not to lack the basics.” She looks around, weighs reality, and makes a decision that feels, for her, more honest than any expectation.

Giorgos Tsarkos, 35 years old

Giorgos grew up in a village in Evia. He was one of those children everyone said would “go far.” He got into the Mathematics Department, searched unsuccessfully for work, and finally decided to open a coffee shop. He works nearly fourteen hours a day. “Home, shop, home. That’s my whole life.” At 35, newly married, people around him ask when he will start a family. He cannot imagine how. “When? At 5 a.m. when I open, or at 10 p.m. when I close?” The financial burden is even more discouraging. He doesn’t rule out changing his mind in the future. But for now, his day-to-day life is so full that it leaves no room for anything else. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t.”

Eleftheria G., 29 years old

Since her twenties, Eleftheria believed that a child would fit into her life only under certain conditions: financial security, professional stability, the sense that she herself had developed fully first. Ten years later, her thinking remains exactly the same. Although she is in a relationship, she cannot say with certainty that a child fits into her plans. Economic insecurity and the pressure of career advancement feel heavier than ever. “Conditions have changed for women. We’re chasing careers.” The desire exists, she admits. But behind it stand two major fears: economic and social. “It’s not just the money. It’s also how a child grows up in a society that doesn’t make things easier.” When the conversation turns to the demographic issue, she smiles ironically. “We say there’s a problem. Yes, the numbers show it. But once we had three children with no quality of life.” For her, the role of mother is not — and will not become — the primary role of her identity. “That’s not what defines me.”

Tonia Ch., 33 years old

Tonia works in a small office in central Athens. Every morning, on the same route, she sees young parents pushing strollers and thinks about how foreign that image feels. “With our salaries, caring for a person is prohibitive.” She considers allowances a small relief, not a solution. At work she sees daily how often laws meant to protect new parents remain only on paper. It’s not only financial. It’s also the life before responsibilities. “A child changes everyday life — how much you go out, how much you travel.” Grandparents, who used to support a family, are not always available. That’s why pets have become part of the equation — a companion, a “small pet.” She doesn’t compare the two; she’s describing today’s reality.

Maria G., 37 years old

Maria grew up believing she would someday start a family. Today, however, she first sees the void around her: “A state that creates no real conditions for new parents.” The sense of the state’s absence is so strong that many women her age delay the decision until after 35, pursuing professional goals first. Maria is among them. With her biological clock ticking, she has found a solution to this dead end. She decided to freeze her eggs. She didn’t want to feel rushed or forced to make a choice because of age. For her, the procedure became a way to gain time “in a world that demands stability without offering it.”