When I was younger, I was told I had no maternal instincts because I didn't go gaga over babies/toddlers. I did not coo and giggle and speak in a high-pitched voice and basically turn into a brainless pile of goo.
I also thought that I was scared of young children.
Then my aunt had her last child (I was 8 or 9) and needed some help. I found that, if no one was looking over my shoulder to judge every word and action against some social standard of "maternal behavior," I actually LIKED kids. I dealt with them more like a man than like a woman, but I LIKED changing diapers and tying shoes and explaining endless stuff and playing silly games.
Fast forward another ten years. My friends started having babies, and I got to fool with infants in a low-pressure environment. Suddenly I discovered that I LIKED feeding and burping and didn't mind runny poop and spit-up, didn't get too bent out of shape about screaming (my best friend at the time had a terribly colicky child, no one realized he was lactose intolerant until he was about 4 or 6 months old and his mother went over the doctor's head, put him on lactose-free formula, and he turned into a much more placid and less rash-y child).
Got the baby fever. Got pregnant. Had tons of people tell me that I just "didn't have the maternal instinct." Got really paranoid about "looking like I was doing it right" and made a terrible mother for the first few months of K's life.
Decided I didn't care what people thought or said, I was going to raise the child in the way that worked for Hubby, K, and me. Became a much better mother. Now have happy, healthy, growing kids (other than still cleaning up the consequences of the last time I let someone get into my head with "what a mother should be").
Do I have the instinct to coo and giggle and go all gaga and decorate my children?? Nope. Not one iota.
Do I have the instinct to nurture, teach, love, and protect?? In spades. f**k with one of my pups, or get between my pups and what they need for healthy development, and find out what a b***h I can be.
_________________
"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"