A Legacy Isn't What You Think It Is

The idea of leaving a legacy in life came up on Facebook earlier –– everything it does and doesn't mean (and to whom). I posted a meme I found. Then a couple of friends direct-messaged me to share some of their own thoughts on the subject.

And as sometimes happens with me, the word kept bouncing around in my head throughout the day, long after those conversations were over.

Legacy. 

What does it actually mean to people to have one, and should it mean those things? Why is it so crucial to so many people? And perhaps most importantly, why hadn't it ever been particularly important to me?

When we talk about legacy, most people picture something grand and (hopefully) lasting. They picture having children who grow up to accomplish something great, passing on wealth or a family business, or being remembered by the rest of society in a speech or a headstone. Maybe they even see themselves creating something artistic or inventing something groundbreaking that gets them recognized. 

But the truth is, most of us won’t be remembered that way. 

I've always been a realist. I've also never personally wanted children or cared much about winning other people's approval. It's always been a given to me that I'd probably have my time on earth and eventually recede into obscurity when the time came. 

A lot of us eventually get there. And that's the point where you realize legacy isn't necessarily what we're taught to think it is at all.

The Myth of Legacy

Let’s be real for a second. Most families don’t remember their ancestors or lineage beyond their grandparents. Maybe a great-grandparent, if they were lucky enough to ever meet one. But names, faces, and details vanish fast. Even if your name makes it onto a family tree or you wind up with a grave people can visit, that’s not the same as being remembered as a person.

The pressure to leave some lasting mark on the world has become one more thing we’re expected to respond to, especially in a culture obsessed with hustle, productivity, and legacy-building.

But when you pull back and look at things honestly, you realize:

• Very few people are remembered beyond a generation or two.
• Legacy is often conflated with fame, lineage, or wealth.
• Even famous or otherwise noteworthy people are often misunderstood or reduced to symbols.

So what are we really trying to leave behind? Who are we trying to prove something to, and why?

Children Don't Necessarily Guarantee a Legacy

I’ve never wanted kids. That wasn't just me being rebellious, as my father always called me. It wasn't a phase or a youthful attempt at being edgy. It was just… clarity. A deep knowing all the way down in my bones that motherhood was not right for me. And while standing by that decision has brought me peace, it’s also brought me tons of judgment over the years.

People assume childfree folks don't actually care about anything or anyone. That we don’t care whether we make an impact on the world. That we’re selfish, incomplete, damaged, or just plain doomed to regret it.

But my partner, Seth, already had kids from a previous marriage when we first got together 20 years ago. I never wanted to have kids at all, and he didn't want more, so things worked out the way we both wanted them to. And our life isn’t empty. It’s full of purpose, connection, love, and growth. The idea that children are the only or best legacy someone can leave is narrow at best and insulting at worst.

So here are some alternative legacies worth recognizing:

• Kindness and compassion freely offered without agenda or expectation
• Ideas that spark someone else’s transformation or make the world a little brighter, even for a moment
• Creative work that moves someone or helps them feel seen
• A garden planted. A shelter built. A recipe passed down, recreated, and shared with love

All of those are legacies, too. Some will outlive you (maybe). Some won’t. The point isn't necessarily to outlast your inevitable death somehow. It's to matter and make the world a little better while you're still here.

Rethinking Legacy: A Tentative Checklist

If you're personally struggling with the notion of legacy –– what yours is or isn't, whether you're doing enough to build a solid one, etc. –– allow me to present you with a new angle or two from which to look at things. 

1. Legacy is a feeling, not a monument

Think about the people who changed your life. Not the celebrities or inventors, but the ones who actually showed up, stood beside you, and maybe even held your hand at exactly the right moment. 

The teacher who looked at you and saw your potential when no one else did. The neighbor who showed you how to grow tomatoes or crochet a scarf. The stranger in line at the coffee shop who said something wise that stuck with you for years.

Chances are, they didn’t know they left a mark. They may not even remember meeting you. They were just being who they were. Ultimately, we remember how others made us feel with far more poignancy than we remember what they actually did. Every interaction with another person is another chance to make a positive impact, even if it seems small or insignificant at the time.

2. Legacy is quietly cumulative

It builds slowly, quietly, and often without you even noticing. It’s not always about a single big accomplishment. Sometimes it's more of a trail built out of smaller moments. Stories you told, help you offered, beauty you created, times you chose integrity over ease.

Your legacy doesn’t have to be polished or complete by the time you die. There's no deadline you need to meet. It's a work in progress that you continue to add to every time you:

• Tell the truth and stand up for what you believe in
• Make something honest with your own hands
• Help someone up or offer them support as they take the next step
• Dream something up and care enough about it to write it down

3. Legacy is personal

No one else gets to decide for you what it means for you to leave a legacy. Not your spouse, not your parents, and sure as shit not polite society. Maybe you really do want to have ten kids or discover the cure for cancer. Maybe you want to leave behind an impressive art catalog, or a cabin in the woods, or beautifully written letters in a box for someone to find. 

And maybe you don't want any of that. Maybe you just want to make peace with yourself and the world before you go. All of it's valid. All of it qualifies.

4. Legacy is so often invisible

You may never know who you impacted. (Hell, you probably won't.) You may never hear your words repeated or receive the credit you deserve for the things that you've done. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t matter.

The person you smiled at who lit up at the realization that they were seen. The friend who saw your courage and quietly followed suit. The reader who found your blog at 2 AM and felt less alone. All of those things are legacies, too. And you may never even be aware that they happened.

5. Legacy is allowed to be soft

I know in my soul that I wasn't called to be a trailblazer or an empire builder. Maybe you weren't, either, and that's OK. Some of us are here to hold space, to create and spread beauty, and to witness instead. That doesn’t negate our legacies or make them smaller. It makes them quieter, maybe, but no less sacred.

What I Hope to Leave Behind

Most days, I don't exactly know. Sometimes I don't even particularly care. But occasionally, I do think about what might remain of me after my body is gone and no one alive remembers knowing me anymore. A few blog posts, maybe. Some art that made someone feel understood for a second or two. A garden someone else will tend one day.

But mostly, I think about the people who loved me and felt safe in my company. I remember the moments I resisted being hardened by the world and allowed others to watch me do it. I consider the choice I make every single morning to stay kind, curious, and alive in a world that honestly makes it very hard at times.

Those things matter to me, and they've impacted my own little corner of the world in ways I may never be fully aware of. That's good enough for me.

So, If You're Wondering About Your Own Legacy...

... ask yourself some pointed questions about your life as it stands now and carefully consider your satisfaction with the answers:

• What gives me purpose and lights me up inside right now?
• What do I do (or have I done) that's mattered to someone else?
• How do I want people to feel when they think about me?
• What don't I want to leave behind or pass on to other people (e.g., trauma or pain)?

You don’t need to be a parent, a CEO, or a public figure to leave something real in the wake of your footsteps. Whether you realize it or not, you're already doing that.

You are the stories you’ve told. The hands you’ve held. The things you whispered to yourself or to a loved one to get through the hardest nights. You are the light someone else saw when they were stumbling around lost in the dark.

That’s your legacy. And you add another layer to it every day.

* This piece is part of the Feast of the Wandering Pen, a month-long lunar writing challenge that's all about showing up, showing out, and sharing something real each day.