Robyn Jamieson-Voss

It took a long time to get here. 

There were times I thought that I would be mourning every day, constantly reminded of everything that I didn’t have. There were also times when I would get lost in all the negativity I found in the darkest corners where being childless made me feel less than.  Those dark corners can be the lifeblood for shame, and I lived it for a long time. I believed in the words I read, in the things a manager would tell me, and in the places where I felt gravely misunderstood. But slowly I began to find my way out of those dark corners.

To quote the lovely Brene Brown:

Shame cannot survive being spoken.  It cannot survive empathy.

In my journey toward acceptance, I found the courage to begin to share my childless story with others. It started with my family and a few close friends, and it grew from there. I began to share it on social media and in writing for World Childless Week, and then I began to share it at work, both with people I know, and people I didn’t know. The more I spoke about my experience, the less I felt shame for how my life turned out. None of it was anonymous. My name and my face were always there. I took the risk and found the courage to step into that scary space where I was vulnerable. But every single time, I was met with kindness and empathy. 

Side note, I don’t count the anonymous spaces of the internet as any of those times I was met with kindness. That’s another story.

Every time I spoke about my childless life, shame took a backseat. Every time I had open and kind conversations about my experience, I felt empathy. Perhaps I am lucky to not be surrounded by closed-minded people, but I think it’s also because I never went in angry, nor did I blame anyone or any thing. I was just honest and vulnerable, unafraid to share the sadness and pain, and it softened the space between me and everyone else. I’m not really sure. But the more I shared, the more I felt – if not understood – at least heard and seen. 

Over time, I’ve come to realize that there is healing in being vulnerable. Every time, shame became smaller and smaller, and my sense of worth grew a little bit with each word. I am now unafraid to tell my story to most anyone, because the more our collective story is told, the more our worth can be recognized. I don’t feel shame anymore for my childless life. I do have my struggles from time to time, but it is more about the sadness I will always feel for the children I never had. But that sadness isn’t laced with shame anymore because I have learned my worth. I’m still me. Just a different me than I thought I’d be. 

P.S. Hmmmm…as I’m wrapping up writing this article for the I Am Worthy day of World Childless Week, I’m realizing the depth of how far I’ve come, and the depth of my growing sense of worth through that journey. I just re-read the last part…”I’m still me. Just a different me than I thought I’d be.” I’m really struck by the simplicity of it. I never needed to be defined by the things I do, or the titles I have. I never needed to be defined by becoming a mom. I’ve gone through all kinds of challenges throughout my life, but I’m learning that the common denominator is that I’m still me.That’s definitely worth something!

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash