For decades, reproductive policy in China was closely tied to state objectives, with authorities first seeking to limit births through the one-child policy and now attempting to encourage larger families as the country confronts a sustained decline in births.Interviews with women across China, combined with academic research and demographic data, suggest that the legacy of the one-child era continues to influence family decisions even as government priorities have shifted.

While authorities now promote childbirth through subsidies and policy incentives, many women cite economic pressures, changing social expectations and personal autonomy as key factors shaping their choices.Since the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, family planning and population management have played a significant role in public policy.

During the decades-long one-child policy, which was formally implemented in 1980 and largely ended in 2016, many families were restricted to a single child. Enforcement methods varied across regions, but reports from several parts of the country documented fines, mandatory birth-control procedures and, in some cases, forced abortions and sterilizations.

In Shen County, located on the outskirts of Liaocheng in eastern China’s Shandong province, memories of some of the most stringent enforcement measures remain vivid among older residents.One woman in her 60s, identified only by the surname Li, recalled being subjected to a tubal ligation after giving birth in 1991. According to Li, local authorities were enforcing what became known as the “childless 100 days” campaign, a policy intended to prevent births during a designated period beginning in May of that year.

Li said she was heavily pregnant when local officials transported her and other women to a hospital for procedures intended to terminate pregnancies. She said she went into labor before doctors could carry out the abortion and gave birth to a son inside the hospital.

Afterward, she was fined 6,500 yuan and ordered to undergo sterilization.The Guardian was unable to independently verify all aspects of Li’s account. However, researchers and activists familiar with the period say similar reports emerged from the region during that time.Another Shen County resident, now in her 70s, said she was one month away from giving birth when she received an injection that induced labor and ended her pregnancy.

She said women who resisted family-planning directives faced threats that included property demolition, detention and restrictions on employment.Shandong, China’s second-most populous province, has long been viewed by scholars and activists as a region where central government policies were often implemented rigorously.

Human rights activist Yang Jianli, who is originally from Shandong, described the “childless 100 days” campaign as one of the most extreme examples of one-child policy enforcement that he had encountered.The Shandong provincial government did not respond to a request for comment regarding the historical accounts.

Although comprehensive data on the campaign are unavailable, demographic analysis by Yi Fuxian, a senior scientist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a longtime critic of China’s population policies, indicates that birth numbers in Shen County and neighboring Guan County fell sharply during the period in question.

More than a decade after China began dismantling birth restrictions, policymakers face a different demographic challenge. China’s birth rate has continued to decline despite efforts to encourage larger families. Official data show that the birth rate fell to 5.63 births per 1,000 people last year, marking a record low.

The government has introduced a range of measures aimed at increasing births, including financial incentives and tax benefits. However, researchers say economic realities and evolving attitudes toward family life have limited the effectiveness of those initiatives.A growing body of academic research suggests that decades of restrictive family-planning policies reshaped social expectations about ideal family size.

One study published last year found that growing up as an only child contributed to a significant reduction in the number of children people expected or desired to have.For many younger Chinese adults, concerns about housing costs, education expenses and financial security appear to outweigh policy incentives.Wang Yixuan, a 26-year-old practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine, said she does not currently plan to have children.

She said achieving financial independence remains a higher priority.Jia, the filmmaker based in Beijing, said women today possess greater freedom in making decisions about reproduction than previous generations. She said many no longer view motherhood as an obligation and increasingly approach family planning as a personal choice.Recent survey data point to a significant shift in attitudes among younger women.

One study found that nearly half of women aged between 18 and 24 reported that they did not want children, compared with just 6% in 2012. The proportion of men expressing the same view also increased during the period, although at a lower rate, reaching nearly 20%.In Shen County, restaurant worker Chen Ying said economic considerations play a decisive role in family decisions.

While earlier generations faced penalties for having additional children, she said many families today are limiting family size because of the financial burden associated with raising children.Yun Zhou, a social demographer at the University of Michigan, said the one-child policy left a lasting imprint on perceptions of reproductive rights and family planning.

According to Zhou, generations of state intervention contributed to a broader understanding that reproductive decisions were subject to government influence rather than being viewed solely as personal choices.

The effects of those decades remain visible across China, where a generation raised largely as only children is now making decisions about marriage, parenthood and family size under a dramatically different demographic reality.

Couples in long-term age-gap relationships are increasingly speaking publicly about the social scrutiny, financial assumptions and family resistance they face, as online discussions and social media visibility bring renewed attention to partnerships with significant age differences.

In interviews detailing their relationships, several couples described navigating criticism from relatives, internet users and broader cultural expectations while insisting their relationships are based on compatibility rather than financial or transactional motives.Alyssa Seremet, 32, said she became frustrated with dating men closer to her own age before meeting Mark Seremet, now 61, through an online dating platform in Miami eight years ago.

At the time, Alyssa was working as a nanny and raising her young son. She said many younger men she encountered projected what she described as “college kid type of energy”. Mark, a technology entrepreneur and divorced father, initially resisted the relationship because of their 29-year age difference, calling it “a bridge too far”.

The pair later married and now live together in Miami with their children and pets. Alyssa acknowledged that she prefers relationships in which male partners take financial responsibility for expenses such as rent and dining, adding that older men had more commonly met those expectations in her experience.Their relationship also generated criticism within Mark’s family.

He said his former wife opposed the relationship, while one of his daughters initially believed Alyssa was pursuing him for financial reasons.“She was like, ‘Dad, this woman is a complete gold digger,’” Mark recalled.Over time, he said, those attitudes softened as Alyssa became more integrated into the family. Alyssa argued that sustained interaction gradually changed perceptions about her intentions and personality.

A 2025 study examining wellbeing in age-gap relationships found younger women involved with older men reported greater perceived financial stability than women partnered with younger men. Researchers also found heterosexual men dating significantly younger women reported higher relationship satisfaction than men dating older women.

The same financial stability effect did not appear among younger men partnered with older women.Other couples described similar tensions involving family acceptance and public judgment.Moreno Woolfolk and Steven Woolfolk said they paid relatively little attention to their 13-year age difference when they began dating. Steven Woolfolk said he calculated the age gap early in the relationship and quickly dismissed concerns about it.

“When I told my family about her, I wasn’t like, ‘She’s 13 years older than me,’” he said.Moreno said some relatives viewed the relationship as impulsive, while her primary concern involved blending families. Both partners had children from previous relationships, and she questioned how the age difference would affect family dynamics, particularly because her son was only about a decade younger than Steven.

The increased visibility of age-gap relationships on social media has amplified both support and criticism. Couples interviewed described receiving negative online commentary ranging from accusations of exploitation to predictions about mortality and inheritance.Alyssa Seremet said one widely shared comment on social media mocked her marriage by suggesting her husband would die before she reached middle age.

She responded by publicly embracing the discussion rather than avoiding it.Public reactions became particularly intense for Tonya Cook, a Houston-based wedding and event curator who entered a relationship with Kemar Bonnick following the death of her previous husband.Cook later appeared on Heart & Hustle: Houston, a reality program focused on female entrepreneurs in Houston.

After the show aired, public attention toward the relationship increased significantly.Cook said she initially hesitated to make the relationship public but later created a shared social media account referencing the couple’s 17-year age gap. According to Cook, some critics accused her of moving on too quickly after becoming widowed, despite the death of her husband occurring five years earlier.

“People in my city were sending me hate mail,” she said, adding that she ultimately chose to block hostile users and focus on supportive followers online.Researchers studying relationship dynamics say public skepticism toward large age differences often centers on concerns about financial dependence, unequal power structures or differing life stages.

At the same time, some sociologists note that age-gap relationships have become more visible through digital culture, dating platforms and influencer-driven social media content.Despite criticism, the couples interviewed described their relationships as stable family arrangements rather than unconventional partnerships requiring justification.

Several said social attitudes became less hostile once relatives and friends observed the relationships over extended periods.Mark Seremet said he no longer worries about public perceptions surrounding the marriage.“Now, we’re married. We have a kid. We have an integrated family. We love each other. I don’t care any more.”