My name is Lauren. I’m thirty-four, single, and childless—a fact that stings more often than I admit, especially in those quiet moments when the world seems to pause and ask what I’ve done with my life. Ten years ago, I was the woman with a plan: Graduate degree first, a great job, travel the globe, see the world and serve God in any way I could. I pictured myself as independent, educated, and admired. I never imagined that, years later, I’d wrestle so intensely with envy, regret, and the haunting question: Did I mess up my story before it really began?
The Road I Chose
After college, opportunities opened up and I leapt at every chance for growth. In my twenties, I studied late into the night for exams, poured myself into internships, and was thrilled to finally build my own career. Travel became my lifeblood. I’ve spent long weekends in Rome, prayed in old cathedrals in Prague, and volunteered in orphanages in South America. Life felt limitless and wide, filled with possibility and promise.
When I finally settled into a job I loved—teaching at a Christian university—I felt deeply satisfied but increasingly aware that my timeline didn’t match those around me. My friends were falling in love, getting married, announcing pregnancies, and buying homes. I was booking another solo trip, learning a new language, earning certificates, and fiercely pursuing my passions.
The Sting of Envy
Of course I enjoyed the gifts God gave me. Yet beneath all my gratitude was a gnawing envy that surprised me. I loved my freedom, but I longed for roots. My closest friends would talk about diaper changes, late-night feedings, and date nights with their husbands while I talked about faraway adventures. It was subtle at first, then sharp: Was there something wrong with me? Did I choose the wrong path?
At church, I noticed my own bitterness surfacing during baby dedications and family events. Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered: “You missed the boat, Lauren.” I would watch mothers soothe their children, couples share inside jokes, and imagine my name never being paired with anyone else’s—or ever called “Mom.”
Wondering About Regrets
Truthfully, I stood at a crossroads more than once. Was my pursuit of education, travel, and calling selfish or wise? Did I ignore God’s real plan for me because I was too driven, too afraid of missing out? On sleepless nights, I prayed hard for clarity. I confessed my envy, my disappointment, my regret. I asked God if there was a latent sin in always choosing ambition over settling down—if I had made myself unworthy of what I so desperately wanted.
Scripture both comforted and challenged me: “No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11). I clung to that promise, but sometimes wondered if I’d misunderstood it. Deep down, I dreamed of a husband to share both burdens and joys, and children to love fiercely. But I feared that the years had slipped away while I was looking elsewhere.
God’s Grace in the Waiting
Over time, God met me in my questions. He reminded me that my story wasn’t a mistake or a punishment. I read the lives of Anna the prophetess, Lydia the businesswoman, and Mary Magdalene—not all were mothers or wives, yet each was called by God to a life of meaning and impact. I realized that the longing for family wasn’t wrong, but neither was my desire to learn, explore, and serve.
My prayers shifted from asking for a husband and children, to asking for trust, hope, and joy in this season. God softened my heart toward others, helping me rejoice with friends in their new chapters, while embracing my own. I found purpose mentoring students, investing in ministries, and building deep friendships that would never have happened if I’d followed a more traditional path.
Finding Belonging in Christ
One of the hardest battles was feeling “less than” in Christian circles. Well-meaning women asked about my dating life, my timelines, my wish for children. Sometimes, their curiosity felt like pity. I resisted the urge to compare my path to theirs—not because it wasn’t tempting, but because I knew God had made me for something unique. In eros and agape, God’s love covers every gap, longing, and missed opportunity.
The church reminded me: “Titus 2 says older women should teach and encourage the younger.” Even in my singleness, I have become a spiritual auntie, friend, and mentor to many—giving and receiving love in deep, meaningful ways. My significance is anchored not in my relationship status, but in my Father’s unwavering affection for me.
Lessons From the Journey
The older I get, the more I see friends struggle—whether married or single—with doubts and disappointments. Marriage and children are not guarantees of happiness; sometimes, loneliness persists even within families. I’ve learned that every path has both beauty and heartbreak.
I still feel pangs of desire for marriage and motherhood, especially when milestones pass—birthdays, holidays, and other times when the ache of what’s missing grows stronger. But I also see what I’ve gained: deep faith, compassion for outsiders, resilience, and joy that comes from knowing Jesus walks with me in every season.
Creating a New Narrative
Rather than hiding my regrets, I bring them to God daily. Rather than denying my envy, I confess it. Rather than pretending I’m perfectly content, I admit my sadness and invite others to join me in the messy process of faith. I believe that God writes stories more creative and beautiful than we can imagine—even if they don’t look like what we pictured.
So I celebrate what I have: a full life, a calling I cherish, friendships that sustain me, and a God who treasures me more than any job, trip, or relationship ever could. When I wonder if I’ve “hit the wall,” I remember that God’s love for me flickers never—unlike the world’s shallow standards, God’s delight grows deeper as I grow older.
Encouragement to Others
If you are single and in your thirties, wondering if you missed your chance, know that you are not alone. The world may tell you that your value has an expiration date, but your identity rests in Christ—not in marital milestones, not in motherhood. God’s faithfulness covers every regret, and His plans for you are still good.
Take the opportunity to serve, to build up others, to explore the world, to love deeply. Marriage and children are beautiful gifts, but they are not the only ways to flourish. God calls you blessed, beloved, and chosen today—before your circumstances change.
Believing The Promise
Moving forward, I strive for gratitude and honest faith. I hope for marriage, long for children, and still pray for my story to change. But I rest in the knowledge that every day is valuable, every experience is meaningful, and every longing is held safely in the hands of a loving God. I have learned, slowly, that my completeness comes from Christ alone.
So whether my journey leads to a wedding or continues as I am, I want to live with faith and courage, knowing that God’s purpose for me is bigger than anything I could design. If you’re walking a similar road, may you find peace and joy, and remember—your life matters, today and always.
God isn’t finished, and neither am I. With each new sunrise, I trust that the best chapters may still be unwritten—and the Author of my story is good, faithful, and perfect in love.