You Don’t Need to Be a Parent to Leave a Legacy each generation heals a little more. Maybe that’s what we call evolution

So, a few years ago, my husband and I learned we couldn’t have kids. I have to confess, at the time—right in the height of my trauma—I didn’t even feel I had the emotional ability to look after a tiny human. Because as much as I forgive the Boomer generation, many of us had to grow up fast and support our parents emotionally, even when it wasn’t on purpose.

So for me, even when I didn’t admit it out loud, I thought my soul was too exhausted to be a mom. That, and the fact that I take being a parent as a huge responsibility—because it’s easy to fall into the trap of wanting kids to be an extension of ourselves or passing on the pain we carry.

Little did I know at the time that my belief—that one needed to be a perfect parent to be worthy—was a wound deep in me. And also deep in my mom, who truly did the best she could. The reality is, 90% of the time she was a fantastic mom if I take into consideration how she was raised, the environment she was in, the fact she survived the ’60s, and the lack of support she had from my dad (which, by the way, I also understand considering his own dad—and this goes on and on until someone, me, decides to stop the cycle… but that’s a story for another day).

Yes, the wound of “not being enough” came from her and my dad—but the reality is, she gave me so much too. She took me with her everywhere, we traveled together from when I was very little, went to museums, and she passed on her love of reading because she was always reading. And in a way, I now understand when she used to say I was an evolution, a 2.0 version of her.

At the time, I felt proud. Then I got angry because I just wanted to be myself. But now that I think of it, maybe that’s really what being a parent—or part of a generation—is. Each generation faces and overcomes a problem the previous one left, and also creates a new challenge for the next one. And maybe that’s what we call evolution.

Like many people, I’ve had those conversations where we tease or critique older generations. But since last week, I’ve been feeling more respect for them. Because honestly, they did the best they could—and having compassion for them means I’m also offering compassion to myself.

That being said, when I found out I couldn’t have kids—and each year that passed when someone (family, acquaintance, whoever) would ask, “When are you thinking of having them?”—I was pretty blunt: “I can’t.” And while I genuinely believe not everyone needs to be a parent, I do believe everyone can make an effort to create a better world for the kids around them.

I think it’s an African proverb that says it takes a village to raise a child (not sure of the source—comment if you know!)—and I agree with that. Society needs all kinds of people. If we allow ourselves to face our gaps, we create space for others to come in and help fill those. The same applies to parenting.

I love kids. I remember my childhood well. Yes, there was trauma—but there was also wonder. And there was nothing more magical than having an adult—an aunt, uncle, a family friend—who still held on to that sense of wonder and made me feel like I mattered.

Even with all the trauma, and my family's very complex dynamics—most of us don’t speak, there are cousins I miss, aunts who gave equal parts painful comments and joy—I’ve accepted that no one is perfect. I’m not perfect. And just as I give grace to myself, I can give it to them, even if we don’t talk.

One of my aunts was like a second mom to me and taught me how to treat people with respect. Another made me feel special by making an entire photo album of me, from birth to my early twenties. I had sports coaches who taught me life lessons. The list goes on.

This is all to say: you don’t need to be a parent to make an impact on the world. You can still help make it a little bit better, a little bit kinder, for the generations that follow.

Also—and this is important—the same way I hated not being heard as a child, I think it’s important to give space to younger generations to teach us things. They bring a fresh perspective. Being open to that benefits everyone. And it helps us guide them with care, to hopefully avoid some of the things we went through.

I guess it’s truly about community. And you don’t need to be a parent—or share blood—to build community or to be family. If you’re willing, you can be a safe space for the people around you, regardless of DNA.

One example I’ve always loved: Miss Val. Miss Val was the gymnastics coach at UCLA. She took in some of the greatest gymnasts in the U.S. and gave them a safe space to pursue their passion—and to heal from an environment that isn’t always kind to athletes. (And I say this with a bit of personal insight, since I was a gymnast from age 5 to 12.)

Miss Val never had kids, but in a way, her athletes were her kids. She created a space where they could blossom—plus, some of the most amazing routines that go viral now and then. I always thought that was beautiful.

Same with my aunt, who helped so many generations through fencing (the sport lol) in my country. When she passed, I cried seeing how many people of all ages came to pay tribute. She was deeply loved, despite all the hardship she endured. I still see the effects of her kindness in people’s lives today—because she believed in them, even though she never had children of her own.

So yeah—that’s my goal: to help make the world a kinder place for younger generations (including my amazing nieces and nephews) and to show that you don’t need to be perfect to be worthy.

Have a great week!

Francisca