In the last few years, most of our friends became parents. As our friends’ lives radically shifted, I began to feel a radical shift in my life, too. Grief. I have struggled with depression throughout my life. I have felt deep, gnawing pain for no reason and I began to fear that, despite having it under control for several years now, I was entering that territory again.
As I struggled through the work of finding the source of this new pain I realized something. I wasn’t just grieving the loss of my friends to their new world—a world I wasn’t entering and never will enter—I was grieving the loss of having friends in my season of life.
I have been truly blessed with wonderful friends. Friends that root for me and that have supported me in my new adventures. Friends that have come along side of me and prayed with me while I waded through an unexpected and undiagnosed health issue. We have bounced ideas around for hours and laughed and exercised together to the point I could barely breathe. My friends are a huge part of my life. They are part of my family. But they are leaving my season of life. And I have started to fear making new friends for fear of that grief hitting yet again.
A few days ago I came across a post on Facebook of two acquaintances enjoying the beautiful summer weather together. The caption spoke of learning and sharing parenthood together, of spending time with people who understood their stage of life, and my heart broke a little.
My husband and I have talked about the pain that comes with being a childfree couple in the church. Although we have many friends who have older children or grown children, or who are single or childless, we don’t have friends who are specifically childfree. We don’t have someone to share and learn with about being a married couple purposefully living without children.
As newlyweds we were surrounded with other newlyweds that we could navigate the intricacies of marriage with, that we could share our struggles and triumphs with and who shared their struggles and triumphs with us. But as those couples chose to birth children and we chose to remain a family without children we lost the camaraderie of living in the same season of life. When this revelation hit, I realized that I had not fully grieved this unexpected aspect of being childfree.
I long for another couple that we can discuss the difficulties of not being seen as a family, the triumphs that we achieve that have nothing to do with child-raising, the unique ability that we have to glorify and obey God. Another couple that fully understands what our life is like.
As a Bible study leader I talk often about the importance of community. God created us to live in fellowship with one another. Sometimes that involves people who don’t share our same seasons of life or experiences. But we also need people who are or have been where we are. We need someone who has seen life through our view. Part of community is finding people who understand us.
This is something that those of us in the miscellaneous pile often lack. Many in the church are married with kids. They have an easy time finding one another. Those of us in the minority groups need your help, church. Those in leadership usually know many more and far more about the people in the church than the ordinary attendee. I ask you to please use those resources to match us up. Help us to not lose the community of people who are like us. Help us to fight the grief of having no one to share life with.