Moment Millennial Woman Realizes She Backs Childfree Spaces: 'It Was Gross'
Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content.
A woman has gone viral after advocating for more child-free spaces—not because she dislikes children, but because of parents who she says fail to take responsibility for their kids in public.
Dominique Bird (@aussiedomxo), 31, from Austin, Texas, shared a now-viral TikTok recounting a recent experience at a local bakery where she was enjoying high tea with friends. During her visit, a couple entered with a young child whovomited not once, but twice. According to Bird, the parents made no effort to clean up the mess, leaving it entirely to the staff.
"Anyway, I just thought it was gross," Bird told Newsweek.
"This experience didn't ruin my day or anything like that, so I do not think kids shouldn't be allowed in public spaces! My point of the video was that kids are usually not at fault; it's parents acting poorly in public that leads to people wanting spaces with fewer children," she added.
A split image of Dominique Bird explaining why she wants more child free spaces.
A split image of Dominique Bird explaining why she wants more child free spaces.
@aussiedomxo/@aussiedomxo
Bird's video resonated widely, drawing thousands of likes and views. But the attention also reignited ongoing conversations around parenting, child-free lifestyles, and public etiquette.
Bird, who worked in childcare from a young age, has long known that motherhood wasn't for her. She told Newsweek that while she believes she would have been "a good mother," she would not have been "a happy one." She credits her parents with raising her to be academically driven and career-focused, values she feels are often at odds with parenthood in the United States.
She said that the lack of parental support systems in the country played a major role in her decision. Living in Texas—where reproductive healthcare access is increasingly restricted—Bird decided to undergo a bilateral salpingectomy, a surgical procedure that removes both fallopian tubes and results in permanent sterilization.
"After [Donald Trump's] inauguration, I decided to take that step to protect myself in the case I couldn't get the healthcare I needed in the future," she said.
Bird clarified that while she's not a parent, she believes in basic decency in shared public spaces.
"If my dog were to be in a business and had an accident, I would clean it up as best I could, even if staff would be required to follow specific cleaning procedures for biohazards, etc. If I spill my drink, I'm going to try and clean it up as best as possible. No one wants their child to be sick, but at the same time, no one wants to eat food in the vicinity of vomit, regardless of where it came from," she added.
Her video drew a mixed response. Many parents expressed agreement, noting that not all adult spaces should be limited to bars or nightlife. Other parents agreed with Bird that it was wrong for the caregivers to not clean up.
"Then you have the staunch child-free people who don't want to be around children ever—let me make it clear, I'm not in that camp," she added.
"While I choose not to have children myself, children have a place in our world, but their parents should also consider the experience of those around them if their child is sick or being disruptive," she continued.
"I stand by what I said in the video—poor parenting and lack of common courtesy in public with children is what tends to make people want child-free spaces," she said.
Bird is one of a growing number of U.S. adults opting out of parenthood. The U.S. fertility rate reached an all-time low in 2023. According to a 2024 Pew Research Center report, with 47% of U.S. adults under 50 without children say they are unlikely to ever have kids—an increase from 37% in 2018.
The TikTok comments reflected a spectrum of views:
"We need more child-free places that aren't alcohol related," said one user, GG.
"I want child-free spaces the same way I want dog-free spaces. Has nothing to do with hatred toward either & everything to do with how badly both groups of handlers behave," another wrote.
"You are entitled to a childfree life but not a childfree world," said a commenter named Tiffany.
"YES also congratulations on your sterilization you're living my dream it's my biggest fear," added another.
"CHILDFREE areas / towns to live in, that would be damn blissful," one viewer commented.
Not all reactions were supportive. Some parents defended those in the viral bakery incident.
"My child got sick in public and it's so scary and honestly, the nice bakery would be the last thing on their mind. Maybe one went to get the car to go to the ER, maybe the kid had an allergic reaction to meds or food," commented a user named Linsey Jean. "I doubt it was to be horribly rude and they are probably scared and embarrassed. But you are child free so you know more I guess—how about less judgment, more understanding?"
Do you have any viral videos or pictures that you want to share? We want to see the best ones! Send them in to life@newsweek.com and they could appear on our site.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Yahoo
Should You Let Teens Sleep Late During the Summer, Or Wake Them Up?
The mom of a 16-year-old night owl asks: How much sleep do teens need in the summer? Should parents wake up their teens at a semi-decent hour of the morning, or let them sleep? 'He is turning into a vampire, staying up all night and sleeping all day,' Ashley Smith, a middle school teacher, tells about her teen son. 'Is that normal — or am I totally crazy for letting him do his own thing in the summer?' Smith quizzed TikTok for help. 'Question for parents of teenagers, especially teenage boys,' Smith said in a TikTok video. 'How long are we letting them sleep in during the summer — do we wake them up at all?' Parents had different rules for summer bedtimes, responding: 'As long as they want. Summer is for recharging.' 'When they're sleeping, they're not eating all the food. Let them sleep.' 'Two teenagers here. They're sleeping in as long as they want, so they're not bothering me.' 'You never wake a sleeping baby. Same applies with teenagers.' 'We're a farming family, so no, our son can't sleep all day. In summer, he can sleep an hour later than during the school year, so 6:30 a.m.' 'Unless we have plans, I let all the kids sleep. If they have chores or things I need them to do, they can do it when they're up. I don't care if they clean their room at 9 a.m. or 11 p.m., as long as it gets done.' 'Depends on why they're sleeping so much and how late in the day. If they're waking up at 4 p.m. and playing video games until 6 a.m., that's a 'No' for me.' 'Youth is such a short period of time. They have the rest of their lives to have alarms and deadlines. Let them be kids, as carefree as possible, for as long as possible.' 'My parents made me work, volunteer, etc. during the summer. Y'all aren't setting these kids up for success.' 'Why do you think kids grow so much over the summer? ... They are exhausted, they are growing.' 'Summer just started two minutes ago. Let them sleep.' Smith tells that her 15-year-old daughter wakes up around 10 a.m. to hit the pool, while her 16-year-old son has been rising in the late afternoon, after staying up for most of the night playing video games. The lenient bedtime rule, says Smith, is more for her son, who wakes up early during the school year and for part of the summer to attend marching band practice. 'There's a lot of variability for sleep duration across all ages of children,' Dr. Rakesh Bhattacharjee, the director of pediatric sleep medicine at Rady Children's Hospital-San Diego, tells 'For teenagers, the current recommendation is at least eight hours of sleep — and not less,' says Bhattacharjee, a spokesperson for the American Academy of Sleep Medicine. 'As children get older .... their need for sleep reduces: Babies spend half the day sleeping and adults spend a third of the day sleeping.' Bhattacharjee adds, 'Up to 85% of teenagers are not getting the recommended amount of sleep.' These are the sleep guidelines for children of other ages (including naps for the youngest kids), according to The American Academy of Sleep Medicine. Babies: ages 4 months to 12 months should sleep 12 to 16 hours. Toddlers: ages 1 to 2 years old should sleep 11 to 14 hours. Preschoolers: Ages 3 to 5 years old should sleep 10 to 13 hours. School-aged children: Ages 6 to 12 years old should sleep 9 to 12 hours. Teenagers, Bhattacharjee says, should get 8-10 hours, but he notes, 'There's a range. Some teens can function on 8 hours of sleep while others may need 9 to 10 hours.' You don't have to, but it's OK if you do, and sometimes you should. 'This is an incredibly relatable scenario for many parents of teens,' John Lopos, CEO of the National Sleep Foundation, tells in an email interview. 'There's nothing wrong with checking in on and waking up a teen who's sleeping late into the day, including during summer, especially if they've had the opportunity to get ... a sufficient amount of quality sleep.' Lopos says parents should figure out the reason a teen is sleeping in for so long. 'Are they very sleep deprived from what they are doing late at night into the early morning? How is their mental health? Are there any medical symptoms that are disrupting their sleep at night?' says Lopos, adding that checking in with a medical or mental health professional can help. Teens who don't heed their natural body clocks while playing video games or using other devices at night 'are setting themselves up for a really poor sleep schedule and the consequences for health and performance that can travel with that,' notes Lopos. Even without a reason to wake up during the summer, Lopos recommends a consistent sleep-and-wake schedule for teens, which also helps them adjust to earlier wakeup times as the school year approaches. Without an explicit time at which parents should wake their sleeping teens, Lopos suggests using judgment 'based on reasonable social and activity schedules' and 'the effects of daylight.' 'Our circadian clock needs light during the day, especially sunlight in the morning, also to help our sleep at night,' says Lobos. 'Even with longer summer days, if a teen is sleeping so late into the day that they have less opportunity to get up, get outside and be active in the light, that's another contributor to an unhealthy sleep experience and a pattern of behavior that can have lasting negative effects.' Teens are usually sleep-deprived on weekdays and 'incur a sleep debt,' says Bhattacharjee, adding, 'They sleep more on the weekends to make up for it.' Video games are a frequent offender when it comes to disrupting sleep. "Engaging in video games during the nighttime exposes teenagers to potentially harmful screen time, which can disrupt their circadian rhythm," Bhattacharjee says, noting that video games can have addictive effects, making it harder for kids to stop playing and get the sleep they need. Sleep is involved in learning and memory consolidation, emotional regulation and athletic performance, according to the doctor. He adds that sleep-deprived kids could have higher rates of anxiety and depression, lower scholastic performance, poorer executive functioning and unsafe driving skills. 'Teen boys and girls need about the same amount of sleep .... but teen girls struggle more with sleep than teen boys,' says Bhattacharjee. 'That disparity starts in adolescence and persists throughout adulthood.' This article was originally published on
Fast Company
2 hours ago
- Fast Company
I quit TikTok—and got my attention span back
For a few days, my finger would hover over the TikTok hole on my home screen. But it was all for naught: There was nothing there to click. TikTok debuted at exactly the wrong time for me. I downloaded the short-form video app during my junior year of high school, just as in-person activities shut down for the COVID-19 pandemic and my life dissolved into an endless loop of virtual lectures. The infinite scroll was comforting—almost intoxicating. Before long, I was spending multiple hours a day on the platform, with most conversations among friends revolving around which TikToks we'd recently liked. In January 2025, I deleted the app for good. Former President Joe Biden's TikTok ban was looming, and I assumed my friends would be booted off the platform soon enough. It felt like the perfect moment: I could reclaim my media habits, lengthen my attention span, and finally break up with short-form video. Six months later, I have no plans to re-download it. Deleting TikTok saved my attention span For years, I was a double-screener. Fueled by a steady diet of brain-rot TikToks, my eyes would drift toward a second device the moment I started a film or TV show. I tried crocheting and adult coloring books—anything to keep my hands busy while focusing on what was in front of me. Still, I'd grow bored and restless. Eventually, I'd cave, scrolling through X (or worse, TikTok on mute) while the movie played. There are dozens of reasons to delete TikTok—from concerns over Chinese data privacy to simply reclaiming a few hours each day. But for me, the main goal was even simpler: I wanted to reengage with long-form media. And that effort has mostly been successful. I read more now, and watch movies—often with my phone in another room. Sometimes, I even listen to a podcast without touching my screen. Rebuilding my attention span required more than just deleting TikTok. I committed 2025 to investing in my focus. I bought print subscriptions to The New Yorker, New York magazine, and The Atlantic so I could read long-form journalism away from a screen. I subscribed to the Criterion Channel to watch deeper, more thoughtful films than the typical Netflix churn. I bought a Kindle. But I haven't sworn off social media entirely. (No, I did not buy one of those janky ' dumbphones ' or leave my phone mounted to the wall like a landline.) I still spend more time scrolling on X than I'd like, and I'll browse Instagram once every few hours. (Just no Reels: That breaks the short-form ban.) I'm also not uniquely consuming high-brow long-form media: The Real Housewives is still my TV fix of choice. But for the first time since early high school, I can watch a movie without reaching for my phone. That feels like a win. How I warded off TikTok FOMO When I deleted TikTok, my biggest fear was losing cultural literacy. I didn't care about the dances or memes, but I worried about missing out on the latest joke or buzzy TV show. TikTok's walled garden and cultural saturation among Gen Z can make it feel essential, as if not having it means missing something crucial. From the outside, though, I've realized most TikToks are just sludge and noise. I read enough news to know what's trending in film and TV. When I want a thoughtful take, I turn to critics or the occasional YouTube video essay. I don't need a 17-year-old explaining why everyone on Love Island USA is crazy. I remember the first time a friend referenced something I didn't recognize. It was March, and we were making dinner at my college place when he said, 'What the helly.' I thought he'd misspoken; he assumed I hadn't heard him. Turns out, it was a TikTok trend that had taken off after I'd deleted the app. I had feared losing a shared language with my friends, but in that moment, I didn't really care what the reference meant. I just moved on. These days, my friends are more annoyed than I am about my TikTok-free life. They still send me screen recordings of TikToks that remind them of me, usually followed by complaints about the extra effort.
Newsweek
2 hours ago
- Newsweek
Californians Are Being Forced To Live In Toxic Homes
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Altadena resident Luis Cazares was among the few lucky homeowners whose property was still standing after the devastating wildfires that ravaged the tie-knight community northeast of downtown L.A. in January were finally extinguished. When he returned home after being evacuated by authorities, "we saw the house standing and I was happy," Cazares told Newsweek. "But I felt guilty that only my house was standing and none of my neighbors were safe." His initial relief turned into dismay when he discovered that his beloved home, which he had bought and improved after years of renting, was covered in toxic lead ash that made it inhabitable—and that insurance would not pay for the cleaning. "The insurance company's failure to do right by him is just devastating for everybody, but in this case, it's just really shameful," Eric Stracener, Cazares' lawyer and a member of the California Fire Victims Law Center, told Newsweek. Cleaning? 'Do It Yourself' When the fires broke out, Cazares was in the process of changing the roof of his home. That means that his property was partially exposed when the fires ravaged the neighborhood—allowing all the soot, ash and debris caused by the blazes to easily get into the property, contaminating everything that survived the flames. On top of that, Cazares believes that the heavy rain that followed the January fires caused its roof to collapse in the weeks following the blazes. "Every time I came to see the house, there was a new chunk of ceiling on the floor," he said. "And so I assumed it was a direct effect from the fire. But the insurance refused to pay," he added. Luis Cazares standing in what is left of his home's patio in Altadena, California. Luis Cazares standing in what is left of his home's patio in Altadena, California. Luis Cazares Cazares' home was covered by the California FAIR Plan—the Golden State's insurer of last resort. The company offers fire insurance to anyone who cannot find it on the private market—a blessing for many homeowners at a time when several insurers have scaled back their presence in the most at-risk areas of the state, even though its coverage is not as extensive as that offered by private carriers. After assessing the damage made by the fires to his home, Cazares made a claim to the California FAIR Plan. Then he waited—for months and months. "They just kept saying, you know, come in two weeks, come in two weeks. Almost four or five months went by until finally they decided to pay me a very little amount, $55,000, and only $7,000 for the damages," Cazares told Newsweek. For Cazares, it was devastating—especially after a contractor had assessed the cost of fixing everything in the house at a total of $250,000. "That's when I say, I need a lawyer here," Cazares said, "because I'm not going to go anywhere with this insurance. They keep refusing to pay, even to clean the house." Before the home started collapsing, Cazares asked his insurer to pay for cleaning the toxic substances in his home. "When I asked the insurance to pay for cleaning they said that, 'you can do it yourself.'" Cazares asked if they would cover the cost of replacing the content of the house, including the contaminated sofas and mattresses, but the FAIR Plan said that if they had not burned, they couldn't give him any money for them. "Test after test have shown that 100 percent of houses in the area have toxic lead contamination," Stracener said. "Also, his insurance limits were $500,000 for the structure. And they paid him $7,000." On May 2, Cazares—with the help of the California Fire Victims Law Center, filed a lawsuit against the California FAIR Plan, alleging bad faith and breach of contract. Newsweek contacted the California FAIR Plan for comment by email on Monday. Growing Anger Against California Insurers Cazares is by far not the only wildfire survivor whose insurance claims seem to have fallen on deaf ears and who are still facing high levels of toxicity inside their fire-ravaged homes. A Pacific Palisades couple, Scott and Lissette Jungwirth, sued the California FAIR Plan in May to force them to turn over claims documents after claiming the company delayed payments to fix their homes. The couple's home, much like Cazares', did not burn during the January wildfires, but it was made inhabitable by the amount of lead, cyanide and heavy metals which was left inside their property by the blazes. While they had to live in hotels, Airbnbs, and family's places for the past months, adding to the distress experienced by their family, the couple is still to receive any payment by the California FAIR Plan. Their lawsuit accused California's fire insurer of last resort of bad faith, breach of contract and other wrongdoing—behaviors that would constitute a violation of the state's customer protection laws. Stracener said the insurer has done about the same with his client, Cazares. "Forty days is the time limit in which they are supposed to have made a final decision on whether or not they're going to honor Luis' claim," Stracener said, explaining how long it took the FAIR Plan to come to a decision on Cazares' claim. "They went way over 40 days. I can't remember the exact date, but I want to say it was close to 80 days." Cazares formally complained against FAIR Plan's behavior, which Eric called "a prime example" of how the insurer is violating policyholders' rights "by stretching out the time, putting more and more stress on the homeowner." This is a tactic used by insurers "to put the homeowner in a desperate enough situation where they will take a diminished amount as opposed to what they are due under the law," he said. "People have given the insurance company weeks and months to do right, and now they're getting final denials," Eric said. "After this amount of time, the insurance companies dragged it out, dragged it out and dragged it down. And fortunately, California has some very favorable consumer laws." Similar litigation has been filed against other California insurers, including State Farm—California biggest homeowner insurer—which is now facing an investigation by state regulators following numerous complaints by policyholders. "Under California law, insurers have to provide their estimate in 40 days. And they're just not doing that," Bryan Aylstock, founding partner of Aylstock Witkin Kreis & Overholtz and a member of the California Fire Victims Law Center, told Newsweek. "We may not have the smoking gun where they're admitting that they're intentionally doing it, but the patterns tell the story. We've seen these patterns over and over again with the endless delays, requiring all sorts of crazy documentation on equipment or personal property that is just burned up," he said. "They're asking for serial numbers on lawn equipment that has disintegrated." Another pattern observed by policyholders, Aylstock said, is "just the utter failure to come in and deal with the smoke and ash and soot that is everywhere, and even do the minimal testing to allow people to safely inhabit their homes." Policyholders affected by the fires are forced to make a "horrible choice," Aylstock said, between putting their families at risk bringing them into their fire-affected homes or waiting for months for insurers to pay them their claims. "Six tons of lead was released just in the Altadena fire, just from the lead paint. And that went somewhere. And sometimes it went, according to the testing, miles away," Aylstock said. "It contaminated houses, and that needs to be cleaned up. There's no safe level of lead, particularly for children, and that can cause developmental delays, all sorts of issues later on. And what we're worried about is losing an entire generation of residents from that area, because people aren't aware or the insurance companies aren't doing what they need to do to make people aware and give them the testing so that they can protect their children," he said. Luis Cazares' home remained standing after the January wildfires ravaged Altadena. But everything inside his home is now contaminated by toxic ash and debris. Luis Cazares' home remained standing after the January wildfires ravaged Altadena. But everything inside his home is now contaminated by toxic ash and debris. Luis Cazares One of the main issues facing Cazares, Stracener and Aylstock is that California insurers currently have no clear obligation when it comes to smoke damage. "For more than 30 years, California has lacked consistent statewide standards for investigating and paying smoke damage claims," said Commissioner Lara in a press release in May addressing the issue. "The result is confusion, delays, and families forced to return to unsafe homes. Consumers are angry and rightly so." To address the issue, Lara announced the creation of a task force that would develop common standards for insurance coverage and clean-up of smoke-damaged homes. While this is a positive step forward for homeowners, it cannot come fast enough for wildfires survivors who've been living in limbo for the past six months. A Lost Homecoming Cazares is currently staying with his brother in Pomona, about an hour from his house. "I moved here because I wasn't sure whether I was going to go back home. And I didn't want to commit a year, which is what most people wanted to rent for, a contract for at least a year," he said. "I've been going to the city and found out that we may be allowed to bring a trailer motorhome to live in there, because rents out here are tremendously high, to be honest. I used to pay $3,000 for my mortgage, and now everywhere is $4,000-$5,000. So I'm anxious to move," he said. The California FAIR Plan, until now, has covered Cazares' rent. "At least they're helping with that part. But it's gonna run out of the coverage and I was told that they will stop paying for my rent," he said. While he is considering moving into his lot with a motorhome, Cazares acknowledges that his former home is not safe to be lived in. "It needs to be repaired or demolished and renewed," he said. However, saying goodbye to his home isn't easy for Cazares, who lived there when his nephew was growing up. "He was probably 5 or 6, and he played a lot of soccer on the weekend. His team loved to come to our house and get into the pool, the patio, we had celebrations most weekends when he was growing up. Now he's 25, and we have all of those good memories in the house." Cazares said he is not asking for the California FAIR Plan to cover the entire amount it will cost to fix his home—only to pay more than what they are now. "It's so bad that I wanna tear it down. I don't think I'm gonna be living in it again," he said. "I think it's a tear down," Stracener said. "Honestly, it would cost more than the insurance policy limits to actually fix it all the way and remediate the toxic damage because every surface is contaminated with lead ash, particularly in Luis's case, because the house wasn't closed." But Stracener is optimistic about Cazares' case against the FAIR Plan. "We feel very strongly that this is a 100 percent related loss under his policy. And we are mystified that they are taking the position that they have taken in this case," he said. "It doesn't make sense. And while what Luis is going through is awful, we feel very confident in his case." There are signs that Cazares—and other wildfire survivors who filed litigation against the California FAIR Plan—may be in a good position to win their case. On Tuesday last week, an L.A. county judge ruled that the California FAIR Plan is illegally underpaying and denying smoke damage claims. The decision, which could impact thousands of lawsuits filed since 2017—including those related to the January wildfires—and could have broader implications for smoke claims for non-FAIR claims, was taken in response to a lawsuit filed by homeowner Jay Aliff, whose home in Lake Tahoe burned in the Mountain View fire of November 2020.
