The grief of childlessness is ambiguous and complicated. Often unrecognized and disenfranchised by ourselves and others. Recognizing grief and giving it attention is essential to finding acceptance in your childless life.

During acute grief of childlessness, I was caught off guard and triggered by the kid's question, and it was awful. I felt I had to explain why I didn't have kids. Unfortunately, I usually gave too much information, which invited more questions I didn't want to answer. I felt exposed, raw and cornered. I wanted to say 'no' and walk away, but I couldn't. It felt too confrontational. I felt that 'No' wasn't a good enough answer as it didn't communicate the depths of my feelings.

I feel differently now.

Social media is a minefield for childless people. There is a constant barrage of images depicting what you want and don't have, but it doesn't have to be that way. Taking control of what you expose yourself to is in your best interest. Of course, you can't wholly insulate yourself from having big emotions in relation to the world around you, but you can implement protection strategies while you work through your childless grief.

I really felt that healing my relationship with my body was a huge piece that I was just missing. I hadn't really realized it. And I realized that it wasn't really talked about in any of the support or the literature around pregnancy loss and being childless, not by choice.

No one else will make space for your grief if you don't. It will not go away if unfaced; it will come out in confusing ways. Creating space for your grief can look many different ways. It can be journaling about how you feel; it can be taking time to feel what you feel without shutting it down; it can be done alone; it can be done in a group.

I want to help you step out of that dark place of disconnection and lack of self-confidence and into the light of coming home to yourself and your body. I want to help you trust yourself so you can step out into the world feeling like you have choices, that you matter, and that you deserve happiness.

I will be at home without obligations to extended family; I can spend my time how I want.

In the past, all this freedom felt overwhelming. I felt left out, which was another reminder of what I didn't have. But, over the years, as I work to integrate the grief of childlessness, I have become delighted with this freedom.

However, it is grounding to keep elements of my routine the same.

You may not be able to have the holiday season go how you want it, but what can you plan and do for yourself within the bigger picture?

I was chatting with a new friend the other day; she is going to stay with relatives for a week over the holidays and (for many reasons) was dreading it to the point of fantasizing about not going at all.

We brainstormed a list of things she could do to take control of her time, set some boundaries and get the support she knew she would need.

This brainstorm included the following:

We are getting a tree, even though my husband is ambivalent. That's right; We are getting a tree because I want to.

I love the smell of the tree, the twinkly lights, the sparkly ornaments and how it brightens up our entire living room.

Reconnecting with my body has been critical to integrating grief and learning to accept childlessness and myself. It hasn't been easy; at times, it has been a painful process but one that is well worth exploring.

My journey to being childless deeply affected my self-confidence, my relationship with my body and how I felt about myself. Self-compassion practice has been foundational in building myself back up.

Being a childless stepmom is a no (wo) man's land. It's a shape-shifting identity without a solid place to anchor, to ground. I have a foot in both the childless and parent worlds, but I often don't feel that I entirely belong or am fully accepted in either.

The heartbreak that comes with childlessness is vast. At times it feels impossible to live with and that it will always feel this way. I understand these feelings. I also know that a life without the children I wanted can be happy, fulfilling and purposeful.

Here are seven ways to heal childless grief and open up to the possibilities of life.

My journey to childlessness involved multiple miscarriages, unexplained infertility and a chronic illness that led to a hysterectomy.

This experience left me disconnected and distrustful of my body. I had the profound sense that it had let me down and that I couldn't count on it. It wasn't, and couldn't, do what I witnessed other women's bodies doing all around me, and I felt less than for it.

As a childless woman, I already feel less than in the eyes of the pronatalist culture, so I refuse to participate in the 'New Year, New You' BS!

In this episode, we talked about childless journeys, reconnecting with the body, the importance of seeing our experiences reflected around us, and more.

Being childless often means feeling left out of the usual holiday traditions. This year I am determined to create my own traditions and reclaim the holidays.

The perceived absence of choice adds to the already powerful feelings of being left out and misunderstood. I understand that entirely AND know that it doesn't have to be that way.

Removing the possibility of ever having a child by having a hysterectomy would free up the energy that hope was consuming. It would allow me space to fully grieve as I would no longer feel stuck in the liminal space in-between.

My mum hands me the St. Christoper pendant my dad has worn since he was 20 years old. He turned 80 eleven days ago. He has been gone for three days now, dying suddenly at the kitchen sink, my mum by his side.