Hi Jake,
My best friend and her partner of five years recently decided they want to start a family—and asked if I would consider being their sperm donor. I was surprised and immediately told her no. I’d honestly never considered fathering a child before, and the idea made me uncomfortable for reasons I couldn’t even articulate. She seemed disappointed and said I was her first choice. Then she asked if I’d at least think about it. I agreed.
After giving it some serious thought, I realized I was actually open to the idea. When I told her and her partner, they were thrilled. But when I asked about next steps, they said a lawyer would draw up a contract waiving my parental rights once the child was born. I understand that’s a common practice in situations like this, but the second they mentioned a contract, I got cold feet again.
How about we take this to the next level?
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I don’t even know exactly why I feel so unsettled. But now I’m afraid that since I already said yes, if I back out, it’ll really hurt her—or maybe even end our friendship. I keep wishing I’d stuck with my first instinct and said no without leaving the door open.
How do I walk this back without doing more damage?
Seed of Doubt
Dear Seed of Doubt,
What you’re experiencing is more common than you might think—especially in queer circles, where family-building often involves creative collaboration. Many lesbian couples look to their gay male friends as potential donors, particularly when those friends haven’t expressed a strong desire to have kids of their own. On paper, it makes sense: you share values, you trust each other, and there’s already a foundation of love and respect. But the reality of actually going through with it can stir up all kinds of unexpected feelings.
Let’s rewind to your first response: discomfort you couldn’t quite articulate. That’s an internal cue worth listening to. Sometimes our bodies register unease before our minds can explain why. Instead of brushing past that reaction, it can help to slow down and ask: what about this feels off? Is it the idea of becoming a parent in any form? Is it fear of future emotional entanglement? Is it grief over what you might want someday that feels like it’s being signed away?
You mention that after some thought, you changed your mind and became open to the idea. That shift is important. But it also might be worth asking: did being her “first choice” make you feel pressure to say yes, even if part of you still wasn’t sure? Sometimes love and guilt show up wearing the same costume.
Then came the contract. The legal language. The waiving of parental rights. And suddenly, the door that had creaked open slammed shut again. That’s also information. Maybe it wasn’t just the contract—it was the permanence. The idea of making a legally binding decision about something that still feels emotionally unresolved.
And here’s the most important part: you’re allowed to change your mind. Saying yes and then realizing it’s not right for you is not a betrayal—it’s growth. The only thing worse than disappointing someone else is betraying yourself to avoid it.
So, what do you do? You communicate clearly and compassionately. Tell your friend you’ve spent a lot of time sitting with this, and while you love her deeply, something about the situation just doesn’t feel right. You don’t have to offer a tidy explanation—just your truth. If she’s truly your friend, she’ll understand that your decision comes from care, not avoidance.
You can even go a step further: offer to help her find someone else. That could mean reaching out to your broader community, asking around discreetly, or simply being supportive as she and her partner continue the search. It shows you’re still invested in their journey, just not in the way they originally hoped.
And remember: there’s no such thing as a perfectly clean exit. It’s okay if someone feels hurt. What matters is that you’re honest—and that you’re not sacrificing your own peace just to manage someone else’s reaction. Real friendship can hold space for that.
Ask Jake is our advice column by Queerty editor and Licensed Marriage & Family Therapist Jake Myers. If you have a question for Jake, email [email protected], or connect with Jake even deeper through his LGBTQ therapy platform.
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