Embodied Heart

Who Is a Woman Without Family?

Single. Estranged. Childless/child-free. No one word sums up my experience living as an adult woman without being in relationship with my family of origin, a romantic partner and without having had a child. It is a formless, unutterable identity that consumes me and yet I nearly never give it voice, mostly because I’ve allowed it to cause me shame. For today’s #EmbodiedHeart post, I explore some possible answers to the question my title posed.

An Orphan to be Pitied

What does a woman without family feel? In my case, lots of loneliness and longing. Desire and rejection. It is hard to fully articulate the bittersweet tang of watching others for whom I care start new relationships and give birth. I wouldn’t call my feelings jealousy in most cases, as I also often feel contentment on the path on which I’m walking, but I do experience sadness mixed in with the joy.

At times, I’ve received pity as a response when I’ve shared my identity. Usually followed by a rush to wish things would be healed with my family or that I’d find love. I think I’ve internalized a deep bucket of shame around this way of being in the world, one to which scoops are only added when people pity me. Not only do I experience shame, but I also distance myself from my own wishes for family. If I don’t “want” it, it won’t hurt not to have it.

People are often surprised at the ease with which I interact with children, perhaps mistaking my lack of energy towards producing or procuring one of my own through adoption as a lack of desire. In truth, I think I’ve simply given up on love stories and tiny toes. I’ve failed repeatedly when it comes to familying and it’s failed me. I believe the only rational responses to defeat, once one acknowledges its existence, are to try again after altering some variable, or to come into a place of acceptance of it. Right now I am noticing and being with my failure, rather than trying to turn it into a success.

A Witch to be Feared

Being too different, being too loud, not following the rules enough. These are the charges often hurled at women society sees as “witches.” Women whose eccentrics show a smidge too much of their own defined sense of being. As I’ve begun to move from young into middle adulthood, this is the place I find myself sitting more and more. I am no longer only a shy teen with downcast eyes waiting for someone to notice her, I am also a warrior singing her call regardless of who approves.

I cannot tell how much this impulse comes from within me and how much it is projected on to me by others, but I sense a woman alone after a certain age somehow appears more threatening. All the caretaking roles I “should” be fulfilling are going unanswered. There isn’t an easy shelf on which to place me of mother, devoted daughter or wife. My oddity feels like a cloak in which I wrap myself to hide but by which I instead end up revealing more than I intended.

A Spinster to be Discarded

As I age, I anticipate moving into the role of the old maid if I stay unfamilied. As such, I will eventually be in a place of  needing instead of giving. Can I endure coming physical frailty without acquiescing or diminishing? Our society expects those who are old to silence their cries. What if I do not behave this way?

Several books I’ve read lately, including Belonging and The Body is Not an Apology, allude to the question of whether we have worth if we are unable to contribute anything of value to others. I struggle with this query from both sides, as I anticipate judgment of my failure to caretake my abusive, aging parents, and as I must also face changes in how others perceive me as I get older. Shame again takes hold. I feel a frequent need to apologize to my wizened crone self for my family failure, and to gift her an offering of my sovereignty as a person, won at a terrible price.

A Person to be Humanized

The themes I’ve identified—abandonment, eccentricity and worth—are by no means limited to individuals who fall into my particular demographic. Rather, I think nearly everyone who has an honest and deep relationship with themselves could connect to aspects of them. I so often feel apart from being a “regular human” when in fact I am a part of being a regular human. That is who I think a woman without family is; she is simply one blend of pigment in the rainbow of the human heart. She has every right to exist, to voice, and to move the world as best she can.

10 thoughts on “Who Is a Woman Without Family?”

  1. I am so enjoying your posts at the moment Suzanne, every one I read resonates, and this one very deeply. I too am a woman without a romantic relationship currently, without children, or a real desire to have any. (yet I do love them, and have a natural knack with them) I do have a very close relationship with my family of origin for which I am grateful for, but I do believe in what you say at the end – when you do have a deep relationship with yourself, whatever your outside circumstances, you will almost certainly never feel like you ‘fit in’ (does anyone?). I think this is because no one really does ‘fit in’ to anything, but when you truly come to know yourself you feel this individuality more acutely. It is most certainly a powerful place to stand from as a woman, and I find that many are fearful of seeing that power in a woman, especially a woman is most of the time content. I believe we have intrinsic value regardless of what we have to offer, as simply living is an offering. Thank you for this! Txx


  2. I feel ya on this! It seems sometimes a heavy loneliness…. A lot of experiences are much better when shared, I don’t have the companionship I’d like to either at this time. Have you ever heard of Warrior Goddess in Training book….it also comes with a workbook, it’s been helping me through a lot of simular feelings and thoughts….

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  3. I can really identify with what you say, Suzanne. I am in the same demographic as yourself and often find it tough. I do believe though that much of the apparent fulfilment of Family life is illusory and that loneliness is an unavoidable part of the human condition. As unattached women we may not have a convenient label but we have our freedom and perhaps it’s a price worth paying. We need to maintain our courage and resist being judged by social norms and expectations.

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    1. Thanks for your response! I agree that loneliness is universal; I’ve chosen to accept the pain of it rather than enter into or remain in relationships which would rob me of my sense of self. I have met people for whom love and family brings much more joy than suffering into their lives; I count them privileged and tend to swing between attempting to achieve what they have and being content with my life as it is. I have also met a ton of people who accept much less than healthy and happy, perhaps in order to avoid the pain of loneliness; this is where something rears up in me and blocks me from acquiescing to such a life.

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