Don't ask me about my love life. I'm busy writing a different story

As I approach 30, I'm greeted by a steady onslaught of questions from friends, family, and peers.

"Are you looking for a boyfriend?"

"Why aren't you in a relationship?"

The majority of people who ask are in relationships themselves. They assume because I'm not in one, I'm actively looking for a partner or I'm incomplete.

There's also the question: "When are you going to have kids?"

Unlike the boyfriend question, I'm reminded that as a woman, my biological clock is ticking.

It is assumed that just because I'm a woman, that I have the inherent urge to be a mother and to nurture.

Society makes it sound so easy

When my younger sister had her first child two years ago, I thought that would keep my family occupied and satisfied.

But the question was simply rebranded to: "When are you going to give your niece a cousin?"

My sister's decision to have kids was met with respect, and I should receive the same in return.

As a writer, I have the power to create my dream boyfriend on the page — I can take the best parts of other authors' swoony love interests, celebrities and people I've met in real life and mash them into one.

Of course in real life, it's not that simple.

There are dating apps with hundreds of potential partners to swipe through. But finding your "type" isn't easy.

And while I'm surrounded by wonderful friends, family and peers who accept me for who I am, being short-statured means there are some people who think it's OK to ridicule me.

I'm worried about meeting strangers on dating sites because it's hard to know who will be indifferent towards my short stature and who will ridicule it.

I'd much prefer to meet a guy organically. It seems safer.

I also believe in serendipity. If a guy appears in my life naturally or has a similar hobby, he's already in one part of my world.

When I'm asked about relationships, I feel like I'm being interrogated.

I am tired of constantly defending being single and child-free.

Loving myself (and my life)

I have built a life for myself that is pretty full.

I'm part of many different communities, which means I don't feel lonely.

This year, I have a bunch of upcoming para powerlifting competitions across Australia. I'm looking forward to honing my lifting and catching up with friends at comps.

I also have writing sessions to look forward to — that's where I get to bond with like-minded people.

I can choose to go to these writing days without thinking about who's going to look after the kids, what arrangements I need to make.

Being single, I also have more autonomy. I can make decisions about finances, where I want to live and how I want to fill my days without needing to compromise.

And as an introvert who needs alone time, I can also decide when to be social and when to recover.

If I had a partner, these things would become a shared decision.

The one downside of being single? Spending too much time defending my decisions.

Writing my own story

The narrative I've been fed around marriage and kids is one I witnessed growing up.

It was what my parents, aunts and uncles, or friends' parents did. So I thought it would be what I'd do, too.

But since starting a part-time job I love, I've settled into a routine.

I've also noticed something unexpected — I have space.

If a relationship comes, it'll complement the life and communities I already have.

I'm not living an incomplete life, I'm living my life with intention.

And I am writing my story the way I want to.

Julie Dickson is a freelance writer based in Melbourne/Naarm. She is is studying a graduate certificate in politics and policy at Deakin University.