In 2015, my cousin died following a year-long battle with cancer. She was 38 years old.

In contrast to the way I had never grieved my childlessness, I was able to fully grieve my cousin’s death, along with the rest of my family, as we cried and talked and remembered. There was sadness, shock and anger and a sense of huge injustice that she had died so young.

I can see now, the benefits of the way I recognised this loss and was able to grieve as part of a shared process, with others who had loved this person. So different to my childlessness grief, which I hadn’t even acknowledged at that time, never mind shared with anyone else!

But when I told people that my cousin had died, so many of them asked, “Did she have children?” When I told them she didn’t, there was always an awkward silence and I could hear them thinking, “Oh well that’s not so bad then.”

Nobody actually said this, so I can’t be certain that I wasn’t just being oversensitive, because I don’t have children either. But I wanted to shout out that whether she had children or not is irrelevant; she was a beautiful, funny, clever, generous person, who lived life to the full in the short time she was on the planet; she was my cousin and my friend and we all loved her; her life wasn’t less worthwhile because she didn’t have children.

I often recall this memory when there are news reports such as, “Mother of two killed,” or “He leaves behind three children and four grandchildren,” as if that is the most important thing about the person who has died. Even though I didn’t know the person, I find myself wondering what else did they do, what did they achieve, what were their hopes and dreams?

I guess maybe I’m scared that when I die, it won’t matter too much, because I don’t have children who will be sad that I’m gone. I have parents, a sister, a niece and nephew, close friends and wider family, all of whom I know would miss me; but does that count if I’m not Mother of someone or even Wife of someone?

This is an irrational fear, which only strikes occasionally these days, because I know full well that I am valued and loved by the people that matter to me. Perhaps the most important person included in that group, is me myself. I live my life according to my values. I contribute to my community and to society. I appreciate and enjoy the good things in my life. I am kind. I am authentic. I love and I am loved.

I am childless.

I am worthy.



Sarah Bradley

Apricot Lane Coaching