A Dose of Cynthia: Building Your Village (Without the Mom Shame or Lost Rakes)

We love to say “it takes a village,” but let’s be honest — most of us are out here trying to raise kids, survive work, deal with anxiety, and cook something that vaguely resembles dinner with about as much village support as a ghost town. And then we wonder why we’re exhausted. Spoiler: you’re not supposed to do life alone. Villages weren’t built for convenience — they were built for survival, connection, and belonging.

The real village isn’t about having people around for the cute Instagram-worthy moments. It’s about asking your sister to take the baby for an overnight without drowning in mom guilt. It’s about letting your friend come over with takeout instead of pretending you have it all together. It’s about saying, “Hey neighbor, can I borrow your rake?” — and then either forgetting it in your garage for six months (because, let’s face it, we’ve all done that) or just being honest and saying, “You might need to remind me to bring this back, I’m hopeless at adulting.”

But here’s the messy, beautiful truth: I’ve been building my village with my neighbors, and it’s not easy. I’m still hesitant to ask for help. It’s hard to quiet that little voice that says, “Don’t bother anyone, handle it yourself.” And yet, every single time, they’re right there to remind me I don’t need to buy a 14-foot ladder to hang Harry Potter candles from my ceiling. They’ll say, “Cynthia, we’ve got one. Borrow it. Please don’t kill yourself at Home Depot for a one-time event.”

One of my neighbors cuts my grass without asking. Just does it. And my first reaction? Panic about how I’ll ever repay him. Because obligation is baked into us — “If someone helps you, you owe them back double.” But then he points out, “You’re constantly feeding us. You cook too much. You give it away. This is balance.” And you know what? He’s right. That’s the village math — not keeping score, just keeping care.

Are they still hesitant to ask me or each other for help? Yes. Of course. Asking is hard for all of us. But we do it anyway. Slowly. Clumsily. With awkward smiles and “sorry to bother you” still stuck to the words.

I haven’t broken them down for overnights yet. But one day, they won’t feel like it’s a burden to let me enjoy being a caregiver for children I’ll never have. Children I don’t want — because have you seen parenting in 2025? I couldn’t do it alone, and I don’t want to. I want to do it with these people. My village. My neighbors. My friends. My chosen family.

Because that’s the point. Life isn’t meant to be efficient. It’s meant to be lived together. Villages are messy. Someone always forgets to return the rake. Someone cancels last minute. Someone gives too much food, someone cuts too much grass. And somehow, in the middle of all that, we find the balance.

So borrow the rake. Accept the mowed lawn. Give the food. Take the food. Ask for the overnight. Let people help you. And please — stop apologizing for needing what we’re all built to need: each other.

✅ Mini-prompt: This week, ask your “village” for one thing, even if it feels small. Borrow the rake. Ask for the ride. Say yes to the babysitting. And if you’re the neighbor with the lawnmower — remember, your casserole counts too.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Navigating Diagnoses & Insurance: How to Take Control of Your Mental Health Care

Why Am I Crying in the Pantry Again? A Real Talk on Parenting

Boundaries vs. Expectations: Why They’re Not the Same (And How to Make Yours Healthier)