A certain kind of exhaustion gets settled deep in your bones when you’re on your own. You have to take care of the home, meet work deadlines, arrange everything for the children, remember everybody’s appointments, and still be expected to show up looking like you’ve managed it all with a smile on your face. When you go to bed at night, you feel drained and start to wonder why something that should be normal—motherhood, womanhood, life—has to seem so incredibly difficult.
What no one ever tells you is that it’s difficult because humans were never meant to carry out these tasks alone. We have lost the support of the community and are feeling the weight of its absence.
For many generations, women lived within a network of female relationships. Grandmothers, aunts, sisters, neighbours and friends divided up the work of everyday life. The community took charge of bringing up the children. The children were brought up together. Knowledge was transmitted from one generation to another. The difficulties were shared among them, and pleasure was increased. It was not expected that any one woman should know everything, do everything, or be everything by herself.
At this moment we are living separately in our individual homes, leading our separate lives and treating independence as if it were a virtue, and as a result we are suffering a severe cost.
The Biology of Female Connection
Begin by considering what science says: women are neurobiologically geared towards connection. Upon experiencing stress, our bodies secrete oxytocin, a hormone which causes what Dr Shelley Taylor of UCLA refers to as the “tend-and-befriend” response. Unlike the ‘fight-or-flight’ reaction, which is more common in men, women naturally tend to reach out to care for and connect with others under pressure.
It is not weakness; it is a product of evolution. Our ancestors survived because women grouped together, shared resources, and protected one another. Women who established strong social bonds were more likely to have children who survived and prospered. Community wasn’t just about socialising; it was crucial for survival.
The biological need still exists even though our social arrangements have changed. Your body still expects there to be a group of women nearby. If that group is not present, your nervous system treats it as a threat. The continuous stress you experience goes beyond merely dealing with your to-do list; it’s about trying to get through life without the support system which your biology takes for granted.
What We’ve Lost
Consider what traditional female communities offered: yes, they gave practical assistance, but they also provided something more significant. They provided emotional regulation: if you were overwhelmed, someone could talk you down; when you doubted yourself, someone would remind you of your strength; and when you made a mistake, you could draw on collective wisdom rather than face isolated shame.
These communities also gave one a feeling of identity and belonging. You weren’t merely a mother, a wife, or a worker—you were part of something bigger. Your value wasn’t just determined by how productive you were or by what your children achieved; you were appreciated just for being part of the circle.
Above all else, these communities made struggle commonplace. Since everyone could see one another’s realities—the messy homes, the crying infants, the burnt meals, the times when they were frustrated—perfectionism was unable to establish itself. People were given the chance to be human, to be imperfect, and to ask for help.
At present, we only see selected parts of each other’s lives. We compare the chaos that goes on behind the scenes in our own lives with other people’s highlight reels. We think that we are the only ones experiencing difficulties. We believe that asking for help shows we have failed. We consider that community will be something we can enjoy when we have less to do, without realising that it is community that would make our lives less busy.
The Particular Loneliness of Modern Motherhood
The lack of a sense of community is most clearly apparent in the experience of motherhood. As soon as you take your baby home from the hospital, you find yourself expected to know what to do; you’re left on your own with this small, demanding human being, and you’re terrified that you’re doing things incorrectly. Although you’re overwhelmed by the amount of advice available on the internet, you long for the real presence of another woman who could say, “Yes, this is difficult. You’re managing all right. Let me hold the baby while you shower.”
In earlier times, there was built-in support; grandmothers lived either nearby or even in the same house, and neighbours would visit without giving any notice. Women would meet every day in common areas—at the tap, at the market and at church—and these gatherings were not merely practical necessities but also opportunities for building connections, sharing and offloading.
We are now being asked to look after ourselves; we feel ashamed to acknowledge that we are having difficulty. We are afraid to show our vulnerability since that seems to mean being weak. We have accepted the idea that a good mother doesn’t need any help, even though in fact no mother was ever intended to have to do it without help.
The Health Consequences of Isolation
The research in this area is stark. Social isolation is as damaging to your health as smoking fifteen cigarettes each day. Women who lack strong social connections suffer from higher rates of depression, anxiety, and chronic stress; their immune systems are weakened, and they are more prone to illness, as a result of which their death rates are higher.
Loneliness is not merely an emotional issue since it also has a physical aspect; just as the body knows it needs food and sleep, so too does it know it needs a sense of community. If this need is not fulfilled, then various systems begin to break down.
What’s especially dangerous is that in our culture we’re told that it’s a personal shortcoming to need community. We’re expected to be independent, self-sufficient, and strong. When we admit that we are lonely, it seems as though we’re admitting that we’re inadequate, and so we put up with it in silence, each of us believing that no one else is experiencing the same thing.
Building Your Village
The traditional villages no longer exist and never will. Extended families have been dispersed. Neighbourhoods are now temporary. Everyone is occupied. Yet this does not mean that community can’t be achieved—it only means that we need to be more deliberate in establishing it.
- Start small and local. You don’t need to make big efforts to build a sense of community—it can begin with just one other woman. Start a chat when picking up your child from school. Invite a neighbour for a coffee. Join a book club, a walking group, or a mother’s circle. Keep showing up regularly. Relationships are developed as a result of repeated, low-stakes interactions.
- Be vulnerable first. It’s up to you to break through the obsession with perfection, so why not do it? If people ask you how you are, give an honest answer such as, “I’m actually having a really tough time this week.” See then how your honesty encourages others to be honest as well. Vulnerability has a magnetic effect—it attracts people.
- Offer help and accept help. Look at what your fellow citizens need and make sure you meet that need. Leave a meal when somebody is ill. Agree to look after a friend’s children for an hour. And most important of all, if someone extends you an offer of help, accept it. Just as much importance should be attached to receiving as to giving, since it gives others the pleasure of being needed.
- Create rituals. Routine events help to build a sense of community. For example, having a dinner once a month with friends, meeting weekly in the park with other mothers, and keeping a regular coffee date. These kinds of rituals give a sense of structure and something to look forward to; they send out the message that you are important enough to have a place on my calendar.
- Embrace imperfection. There’s no need to have guests over only when your house is clean. You shouldn’t wait until you feel as though your life is all together before making contact. What community needs is authenticity, not perfection. Let people see your mess; in that way, they will be able to show theirs.
- Show up for the hard stuff. It’s not merely about having enjoyable times; it’s also about being there for someone when they are going through grief, illness, or a crisis. Send them the text, make the phone call, and put everything aside if they need you, and have faith that they will do the same for you.
- Use technology wisely. While group chats, video calls, and social media can help to supplement real-life connections, they cannot take their place. You can use technology to arrange meetings and stay in touch between them, but you should always prefer face-to-face time.
The Ripple Effect
The lovely aspect of creating a community is that it doesn’t only alter your life but also helps you work.
This has an effect on the lives of your children; they grow up with interdependence demonstrated to them and come to realise that needing other people is not a sign of weakness but of wisdom. They build up their own networks of connection and understand that they are part of something which is larger than themselves.
It also affects the culture since each time you contact someone, each time you are open about having difficulties, and each time you are there for somebody else, you are challenging the idea of perfect independence and are restoring the old wisdom that it is necessary for us to rely on one another.
Coming Home
The truth is, you can’t do this alone. You were never meant to. The village isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity. And while it might not look like it once did, you can still build it.
Start today. Reach out to that one friend you’ve always promised to meet for coffee but never quite got around to. Make that plan for the girls’ night you’ve been talking about. Take one step towards the community your soul is craving.
The village is waiting. And you belong in it.
LotsOfLove, SL
