Parenting "Takes A Village" — So Why Is It So Hard To Find Community?

We’ve heard that connection increases our lifespan and enhances the quality of our day to day lives. The saying “it takes a village” is one that I’ve heard from many parents over the years.

And yet, despite knowing how good it is for us, many of us struggle with maintaining closeness to community. According to a recent survey, about 65% of parents in the U.S. report that the demands of parenting keep them feeling "sometimes or frequently" isolated or lonely. And 40% reported that they have “no one” to support them in the parenting role.

There is a systemic reason for this: Nonstop work expectations, growing child care responsibilities, and a highly individualistic Western culture creates tension by burdening the nuclear family to care for itself. And many of us have been told to be self-reliant, lessening the need to build fabrics of connection between one another. It's no wonder it is hard to find time to carve out connection.

Unlike our marriages or jobs there is no contractual obligation for kinship relationships. Mothers and caregivers may have been taught that they have to sacrifice themselves for their families. This instigates us to save the "want tos" for after we have completed all the "have tos." 

What if we put these two lists side by side and weighed them as equally important? What if we merged the lists, and believed that incorporating the want tos will fuel us and protect us from resentment and self-abandonment?

I went on an extended trip with friends and noticed my insecurities arise. They witnessed my less than perfect parenting. They saw my morning mood after not sleeping the night before. They saw me at my most vulnerable.

True connection and closeness removes the veneer of composure that a simple dinner date or afternoon allows one to uphold. This time away also created opportunities for parenting breaks and deeper connection within our group—we took turns cooking, we traded exercise hours, we sat up late talking about all the things that felt good and hard in our lives. We all left feeling seen and supported, despite the trials of developing a co-family groove. 

Community building isn't the same as hosting.

In her book All About Love, bell hooks references community as a group of individuals “who have learned how to communicate honestly with each other, whose relationship go deeper than the masks of composure, and who have developed some significant commitment to rejoice together, mourn together, and to delight in each other, and make other's conditions our own.”

Sometimes families shy away from creating connection experiences because it feels like it requires more effort—cooking for more people or cleaning up after a larger group.

Instead create an invitation to collaborate rather than an event that requires you to shoulder more responsibility. For example, I will invite my friends to cook with me, rather than for them. We will create a monthly calendar that allows for transparency on who is doing what for whom when. We have a culture of “asks” and of “gives,” because we all honor reciprocity. 

Stating our boundaries, (for example, requesting people to leave by 7 p.m.) or naming when life feels too hard to give (when you're going through mourning or grief), is an invitation for our community to know us. Therefore it's an invitation to come closer to us. It also protects us from resentment and going beyond our limits.

When we struggle to own our needs for community, it can be helpful to look at what limiting beliefs may be getting in the way. Do you believe your kids' extracurriculars matter more than your own? Were you told that if you’re having a hard time you should conceal rather than reveal that to your friends?

Leaning into community means that sometimes your routine gets thrown off. Or sometimes someone says something you don’t like around your children, Or an adult wants to talk to you when you want to focus on your kids instead.