I’ve come to realize that being a Childfree Not by Choice (CFNBC) aunt is one of the deepest ways I’ve shown up in the world—with love, with intention, and with a hope to be remembered. I am an aunt to many kids—biological and not-biological—and my official title started 33 years ago this past Easter. My first niece’s birth is a day I will never forget. I sat in the hospital with my mom for at least 12 hours waiting for her birth. I was so excited. She was my first. When she was born, I gave her the title, “The Star of the Show.” She became the center of our family’s life.
Then I became an aunt again seven years later and three years after that. Three years ago I became a great aunt. The feelings were always the same: the waiting, the excitement, the arrival. And each subsequent niece and nephew became “The Star of the Show.” They all thrilled me. Today, in addition to my “official duties,” I’m also an aunt to my best friends’ kids—a role that’s become part of my own quiet legacy.
The Everyday Joys of Aunt Life
I do what aunts typically do. I teach them about hair care, skincare, and baking a cake. We play chase, online games, and made-up games such as “Squishy Squashy.” I listen to their issues with friends, talk about boys and dating. I bring them gifts or sometimes sneak them a $20 bill. I have taken a few to Paris with me on a week long trip. 
I’ve bought winter coats for Christmas and shoes for birthdays. I recently bought an indoor grill for my budding chef.
I listen to them when they need me to intervene on their behalf with their parent. I take them to the cinema, drive them to school, and facilitate drinking “mead” when they turn 21. We talk about planning the future—deciding where to go for college, what to study, and visiting universities. Soon, I will be attending college orientation with my nephew. Just him and me. I feel so lucky being able to do all of these life moments with my incredible crew.
What It Means to Be a Childfree Not by Choice (CFNBC) Aunt
In addition to being an “Aunt,” I am also childfree not by choice—a CFNBC woman. I remind myself of my great Aunt Jimmy who used to drive up in her Cadillac and hand out money like it was candy. She always dressed to the T, drank hard liquor, and was very rich. No one ever said why she didn’t have kids. No one talked about it. But I wondered—and I’m sure my brother and sister did too.
Aunt Jimmy’s Mystery
I may not have all of her “glam,” but I see myself in her. When I was younger, I thought, “God, I don’t want to be like her.” She was a mystery. She came and went two times per year. She was somewhat detached from family, I thought, because she didn’t have her own kids. She was a free spirit—and I think my crew may think the same of me. Free. Unattached by kids. A wanderer (since I live in Europe too). I come and go a lot.
Seeing Myself in Her
But now I look back and think, “Did Aunt Jimmy want kids?” Did she try, fail, and grieve? I don’t know the answers. But I feel like we have something in common.
Her Final Chapter—and My Fear
I was there when Aunt Jimmy took her last breath. She had been sick, and my mom could no longer take care of her in our home after three years. She became too ill, was put in a nursing home, and remained there for two years. She pretty much ended her life alone in those last two years.
It was Christmas time, and I was back home on a law school break. We went to visit her. She was not very lucid. But we were there for her death—three of her nieces. We held her hand and spoke to her as she passed away. I hope that was okay for her.
It was the first time I had seen someone die. I was sad, but I did not mourn her. I did not know her that well.
The Legacy I Want to Leave
When I write this, it scares me a bit, and I think again, “God, I don’t want to be like her.” I don’t want to die alone—with my nieces and nephews not really knowing me, just there out of duty or compassion.
Yes, I know it could happen to anyone, whether they have children or not. But as a CFNBC woman, it’s another layer we have to contemplate—as if the other CFNBC realities aren’t already enough.
But in my heart, I know my crew knows me. I know they care about me. They think I’m the cool aunt—and that is the legacy I want to leave.
Others are starting to acknowledge just how important aunties really are—like in this powerful tribute, With Love to My Childless Aunts from Psychology Today. And maybe that’s what legacy is—a life remembered for love, not lineage.
