Many people feel a deep need to fit in with social norms like marriage and having children because those norms are woven into the fabric of society — biologically, culturally, and psychologically. We're wired for belonging; from an evolutionary perspective, being part of a group meant survival. So when someone’s life path diverges from the dominant script — especially a script that’s idealised and widely celebrated — it can trigger a primal fear of rejection or inadequacy.
For women, the pressure is particularly intense. Traditional gender roles have long equated a woman’s worth with being a wife and mother. Even today, despite progress in equality, women who don’t follow this path often face subtle judgement, social exclusion, or internalised shame. Cultural stories reinforce this — from fairy tales to family expectations — suggesting that these milestones are not just desirable, but necessary to feel fulfilled, loved, or successful.
When those milestones don’t happen — whether by choice, chance, or circumstance — it can lead to a quiet crisis of identity. Not because something is wrong, but because society rarely offers alternative visions of success, belonging, or purpose. The key is recognising that these norms are inherited constructs, not universal truths. The real work is in reclaiming authorship of your own life — asking what matters to you, and who you choose to be beyond the roles you were told you should play.
That’s exactly what Lucy is doing. She’s done the kind of deep, confronting inner work that not many are brave enough to take on — unravelling the expectations, questioning the inherited story, and choosing to live a life that’s true to her essence. In doing so, she’s not just healing her own narrative; she’s offering a powerful alternative for others. Her courage says something profound: it’s not you who is broken — it’s the way you’ve been taught to see yourself that needs to change. In that truth, Lucy becomes a quiet revolutionary — challenging the norms simply by being herself, and showing others that there is strength in choosing a different path. Dare I say that Lucy is helping others to feel life’s sparkle.
I think your experiences (and the witty answers) come from a place of relative privilege, just like mine. Until one day one of the partner's 'aunties' has started telling me I shouldn't get a flat, I needed a house for the kids and why wasn't I having babies yet? was I scared? no need to be scared, they can help babysit! if the house it's in their neighbourhood I can even go back to work and they's watch the baby!
So, yes, it's projection but sometimes it comes at you when you least expect it from a very strange place of unrequited love and it does feel like pressure. This happened to me only once and I am officially scarred forever.
I heard an excellent reply to the “why are you single?” question recently, that touches on the idea that the quality of the dating pool for some cohorts of women is pretty poor…. “it’s a supply chain issue” ☺️
Many people feel a deep need to fit in with social norms like marriage and having children because those norms are woven into the fabric of society — biologically, culturally, and psychologically. We're wired for belonging; from an evolutionary perspective, being part of a group meant survival. So when someone’s life path diverges from the dominant script — especially a script that’s idealised and widely celebrated — it can trigger a primal fear of rejection or inadequacy.
For women, the pressure is particularly intense. Traditional gender roles have long equated a woman’s worth with being a wife and mother. Even today, despite progress in equality, women who don’t follow this path often face subtle judgement, social exclusion, or internalised shame. Cultural stories reinforce this — from fairy tales to family expectations — suggesting that these milestones are not just desirable, but necessary to feel fulfilled, loved, or successful.
When those milestones don’t happen — whether by choice, chance, or circumstance — it can lead to a quiet crisis of identity. Not because something is wrong, but because society rarely offers alternative visions of success, belonging, or purpose. The key is recognising that these norms are inherited constructs, not universal truths. The real work is in reclaiming authorship of your own life — asking what matters to you, and who you choose to be beyond the roles you were told you should play.
That’s exactly what Lucy is doing. She’s done the kind of deep, confronting inner work that not many are brave enough to take on — unravelling the expectations, questioning the inherited story, and choosing to live a life that’s true to her essence. In doing so, she’s not just healing her own narrative; she’s offering a powerful alternative for others. Her courage says something profound: it’s not you who is broken — it’s the way you’ve been taught to see yourself that needs to change. In that truth, Lucy becomes a quiet revolutionary — challenging the norms simply by being herself, and showing others that there is strength in choosing a different path. Dare I say that Lucy is helping others to feel life’s sparkle.
I think your experiences (and the witty answers) come from a place of relative privilege, just like mine. Until one day one of the partner's 'aunties' has started telling me I shouldn't get a flat, I needed a house for the kids and why wasn't I having babies yet? was I scared? no need to be scared, they can help babysit! if the house it's in their neighbourhood I can even go back to work and they's watch the baby!
So, yes, it's projection but sometimes it comes at you when you least expect it from a very strange place of unrequited love and it does feel like pressure. This happened to me only once and I am officially scarred forever.
I heard an excellent reply to the “why are you single?” question recently, that touches on the idea that the quality of the dating pool for some cohorts of women is pretty poor…. “it’s a supply chain issue” ☺️