women

When Independence Becomes a Defence

by Julie Githiri

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“I can manage on my own.”

“I don’t need to rely on a man for my emotional well-being.”

There is something deeply empowering about being able to say these things.

And yet, I wonder what happens when independence becomes more than a strength. What happens when it becomes a defence?

Typically, when we think about independence, particularly in women, we picture a familiar stereotype: a well-educated woman, single or divorced, with or without children, who has learned to navigate life largely on her own.

She may be straddling the demands of working life, managing a home, making time, however limited for ageing parents, building a career, pursuing further education, maintaining her health and wellbeing, and creating the comforts she wants for herself: perhaps even the increasingly popular promise of a “soft life.”

Her bedside drawer might contain the latest gadgets to ensure her libido is attended to regularly. She has friends. She has a career. She has interests. She travels. She can assemble furniture, change a tyre, make decisions, manage her finances and, when necessary, comfort herself.

She is capable.

She is self-sufficient.

She is, in many ways, exactly the woman we have encouraged her to become.

So why might this woman struggle to be partnered?

Is independence celebrated or is it, sometimes, quietly penalised?

When “I Don’t Need You” Becomes “I Can’t Need You”

There is an important distinction between not needing someone to survive and being unable to need someone emotionally.

Healthy independence says:

“I can take care of myself, and I can also allow you to take care of me sometimes.”

Defensive independence says:

“I can take care of myself, so I don’t need you to take care of me.”

The difference may sound subtle, but emotionally it is enormous.

The independent woman may have learned, through experience, that relying on others can be disappointing. Perhaps people have let her down. Perhaps she has spent years being the dependable one the person everyone calls when there is a crisis, the one who holds things together.

Eventually, competence becomes armour.

She stops asking.

She stops expecting.

She stops needing.

And because she has become very good at doing everything herself, she may no longer know how to let someone into the parts of her life where she is vulnerable.

The Paradox of Independence

There is a curious paradox here.

We tell women: Be strong. Don’t settle. Don’t depend on a man. Build your own life. Know your worth.

And I agree.

But perhaps we have confused self-sufficiency with emotional freedom.

You can be financially independent and emotionally defended.

You can be fiercely capable and deeply lonely.

You can have an extraordinarily full life and still struggle to make space for another person within it.

The question isn’t whether a woman can manage without a partner.

Of course she can.

The more interesting question is:

Can she make room for a partner without experiencing that need as weakness?

The Fear Beneath the Strength

Sometimes independence protects us from the vulnerability of needing another person.

Because needing someone gives them the possibility of disappointing us.

It means allowing someone to matter.

It means surrendering some control.

It means saying, “I can’t do this alone,” or “I need you,” or simply, “I missed you.”

For someone who has spent years proving that she can cope, those words can feel surprisingly exposing.

And perhaps this is where independence becomes a defence.

Not because the woman doesn’t want intimacy.

But because intimacy requires something independence has taught her to avoid:

dependence.

Not complete dependence. Not losing herself. But the healthy, mutual dependence that allows two adults to lean on one another without either person disappearing.

Partnership Is Not Rescue

None of this means that an independent woman should suddenly become dependent on a man.

Quite the opposite.

A healthy partnership isn’t about being rescued.

It is about being accompanied.

There is a profound difference between:

“I need you because I cannot cope without you,”

and:

“I don’t need you to survive, but I want you in my life. I want to share things with you. I want to be known by you. I want to be able to lean on you sometimes.”

Perhaps that is the balance many of us are looking for.

Not independence or intimacy.

But independence within intimacy.

So, Is Independence Penalised?

Perhaps sometimes it is.

There are certainly social expectations around gender, partnership and what women “should” need from men.

But I think there is another question worth asking.

Are some of us so determined never to need anyone that we inadvertently make it difficult for anyone to become truly close to us?

Because there is a difference between having strong boundaries and having impenetrable walls.

Boundaries say:

“This is who I am, and this is how I expect to be treated.”

Walls say:

“You cannot get close enough to hurt me.”

The first protects our dignity.

The second may protect our wounds.

Perhaps the goal isn’t to become less independent.

Perhaps it is to become secure enough in our independence to allow ourselves to need someone without losing ourselves.

To say:

“I can manage on my own.”

And, at the same time:

“I don’t always want to.”

Because perhaps the most powerful form of independence is not needing to prove that you can do everything alone.

It is knowing that you can and choosing to let someone stand beside you anyway.

Polygamy in Modern-Day Marriages

by Julie Githiri

Interestingly, polygamy has not yet entered my consulting room in any significant way. What I am more likely to encounter are the consequences of relationships that exist outside of marriage, a topic I plan to explore in a future blog.

Historically, the acquisition of an additional wife was often viewed as a sign of affluence, status, and social standing. In many African communities, polygamy was culturally accepted and woven into the fabric of society long before the arrival of Christianity, which introduced a different set of values and expectations around marriage.

The recent Netflix series The Polygamist has reignited conversations around the subject, bringing a traditionally private arrangement into public discourse and inviting viewers to examine their own assumptions and beliefs.

There are, of course, many perspectives from which polygamy can be viewed. A feminist lens may raise questions around equality, autonomy, and power. A religious perspective may challenge or support the practice depending on the faith tradition. A cultural perspective may see it as part of heritage and identity, while a humanistic perspective may focus on individual choice, consent, and wellbeing.

As a psychotherapist, I am less interested in determining whether polygamy is right or wrong and more interested in understanding what human needs it seeks to meet.

Historically, economic necessity may have played a significant role. For some women, becoming part of a polygamous family may have offered security, stability, and access to resources that may otherwise have been unavailable. Today, however, the conversation appears more complex. As society evolves and women increasingly achieve educational and financial independence, the reasons individuals choose polygamous relationships may be less about survival and more about personal values, lifestyle, companionship, family structure, or belonging.

The desire for companionship, attachment, commitment, and family remains as relevant today as it has ever been. For some, the idea of sharing a partner may feel less threatening than the prospect of loneliness or the absence of meaningful connection. Others may find fulfilment in a family structure that offers support, shared responsibilities, and community. While modern relationships often place immense pressure on one partner to fulfil every emotional, practical, financial, and sexual need, polygamous families may distribute some of these demands across a wider network.

Of course, this does not mean the arrangement is without complexity. Questions around jealousy, fairness, power, emotional security, and hierarchy inevitably arise. Does it matter whether you are the first wife, second wife, or third? How are needs negotiated? How is emotional equity maintained? These are not insignificant considerations.

What strikes me is that many of the motivations people may attribute to polygamy are not entirely different from those that underpin monogamous relationships. Whether we choose one partner or several, we are often searching for the same things: to feel loved, to belong, to be chosen, to feel safe, and to know that we matter.

The difference may lie not in the need itself, but in the structure through which that need is expressed.

The modern-day man is also worthy of consideration. What motivates a man to pursue a polygamous relationship structure in a society where monogamy remains the dominant ideal? Is it about status, desire, companionship, legacy, family, or something else entirely? Is he seeking more connection, or is he avoiding the depth and vulnerability that one intimate relationship can demand?

There are no simple answers.

What is clear, however, is that conversations around polygamy often evoke strong emotional responses. Judgement, shame, curiosity, admiration, criticism, and even envy can emerge depending on our own experiences and beliefs about relationships. Perhaps this is why the topic remains so difficult to discuss openly. It asks us to examine not only the choices of others, but our own assumptions about love, commitment, fidelity, and what constitutes a successful relationship.

In the consulting room, I am reminded daily that regardless of how relationships are structured, people are often seeking the same things: love, security, belonging, acceptance, and connection. Whether those needs are pursued through monogamy or polygamy, the emotional questions remain remarkably similar.

Perhaps the conversation is not ultimately about polygamy at all, but about the many ways human beings attempt to meet their need for connection and create meaningful lives with one another.

Warmly

Jules