They always say,
“It takes a village to raise a child.”
I must’ve heard it a hundred times before I became a parent.
Family, friends, neighbors, everyone pitching in, watching out, showing up.
It sounded beautiful.
Comforting, even.
Like there would be this invisible safety net, ready to catch me when the weight got too heavy.
But what happens when the village… never shows up?
Turns Out, I Am the Village
These days, I look around and realize it’s just me.
No friends dropping by.
Grandparents off on cruises or living their best, busy lives.
Family members checked out, caught up in their own chaos.
There are no extra hands when I’m juggling dinner, laundry, and a toddler who refuses to nap.
No one volunteering to take the baby for a few hours so I can breathe.
No surprise meals dropped at the door, no built-in babysitters, no check-ins that aren’t scheduled weeks in advance.
And it hits me…
I am the village.
Every role. Every responsibility.
Cook, cleaner, teacher, playmate, nurse, scheduler, provider, comforter.
All wrapped up in one tired, overburdened body.
It Feels Like a Myth
Some nights, when the house is finally quiet, I scroll past posts about strong communities, family dinners, playdates with close friends, and grandparents who show up every weekend.
And I wonder: Is the village just a myth?
Or did I somehow miss the secret invitation?
Because in this season of life,
It feels like I’m carrying it all alone.
I Wonder…
Was there ever really a village…
Or do some of us just learn to become one all by ourselves?
Maybe the village isn’t guaranteed.
Maybe it’s something you have to build from scratch.
Even when you’re already stretched thin.
Or maybe…
Some of us are just surviving without one, and no one’s talking about how heavy that feels.
Do you ever feel like you’re the whole village, too?