I am not alone.

We just returned from our annual Lake Tahoe trip—a tradition I cherish, especially as an aunt to my niece and nephew. Each year, it’s an escape filled with love, laughter, and bonding. My sister and brother-in-law have always made sure that Jack and I are woven into the lives of their kids, and I don’t take that gift for granted. These trips have given us our own little traditions and inside jokes, moments that I know will stay with me forever.

Watching the kids grow and seeing their personalities unfold is magical. My niece and nephew now have their own jokes, quirks, and things that make them light up. And though I’m not much of a skier, my sister and I did plenty of snowshoeing, and we treated ourselves to massages while the kids went skiing with my brother-in-law and Jack. These trips remind me that being an aunt fills a part of me with joy I didn’t expect to find in my journey through childlessness.

When we returned, I learned some heartbreaking news. My mom’s brother, who had been a role model and a dear friend to me, had passed away. He and his wife were childless, not by choice, and as someone who deeply admires them, I’ve often found hope in the life they built together. They had 63 years of marriage filled with love, laughter, and purpose, despite not having the family they once dreamed of. I always looked to them as proof that you can live a rich, fulfilled life without children. They taught me so much about love, resilience, and the many ways one can leave a lasting impact.

But the thought that haunts many of us in this situation—the fear of growing old alone—keeps creeping in. Society often makes us believe that if we don’t have kids, we’ll end up lonely, forgotten, or without anyone to lean on. We imagine ourselves in a nursing home with no one to visit, or penniless because we didn’t have children to look out for us. But here’s the truth– my uncle’s life didn’t end that way. He wasn’t alone, and he certainly wasn’t unloved. He was surrounded by siblings, nieces, and friends who loved him dearly. His life was not defined by the absence of children; it was defined by the love he shared and the memories he created.

Thinking about his life made me realize that maybe our fears are holding us back from creating the connections and moments that matter most. We might be spending so much time worrying about a distant, lonely future that we’re missing the chance to live fully today.

This week, I invite you to let go of that fear, even just for a few moments. Write down the life you want to create—no limits, no “I’m not the kind of person who…” or “People like me don’t get that.” Imagine a life where you are surrounded by people who love you, where your days are filled with things that bring you joy and fulfillment. Imagine that your purpose doesn’t depend on children but comes from within, from the connections you build and the passions you pursue.

And while it may feel daunting, I promise you that true connections are within reach. Sometimes, we need to look a little closer at the people in our lives and find ways to deepen those relationships. Volunteer in your community, join a group of like-minded people, or reach out to those you know who might share your story. Through these connections, you might find the family you never expected to have.

My uncle’s life was a beautiful example of a life lived fully, without regrets and with a heart wide open. He showed me that contentment isn’t about having everything you want but being grateful for everything you have. It’s about waking up each day feeling at peace with yourself and connected to the people around you.

Let’s challenge the idea that childless means alone. It doesn’t have to.