Growing up in South America, I spent my entire school life — from pre-kindergarten to my final year of high school — in a Catholic school. We learned about saints, nuns, obedience, sacrifice, and devotion. What we never learned about were the Beguines.
No one told us that, in the Middle Ages, there were women who chose a spiritual life without becoming nuns, women who lived in community without renouncing their autonomy, women who worked, earned their own money, owned property, and could leave whenever they wished.
Perhaps they didn’t want to give us ideas.
Who were the Beguines?
The Beguines emerged in Western Europe between the 12th and 13th centuries, particularly in what is now Belgium, the Netherlands, northern France, and western Germany. They were deeply spiritual women, but they were not part of a religious order.
They made no lifelong vows.
They were not cloistered.
They were not under permanent male authority.
Instead, they created a third path at a time when women were expected to either marry or enter a convent.
Beguines lived meaningful lives devoted to God, care for others, and community — without surrendering their freedom.
They worked as nurses, caregivers, teachers, and textile producers. They supported themselves financially and lived with dignity. Most importantly, they retained the right to choose: to stay, to leave, to adapt.
This combination — spirituality, independence, and intelligence — made them both admired and deeply unsettling to institutional power.
Beguinages: A city within the city
Beguines lived in enclosed communities called beguinages: small neighborhoods with individual houses, a chapel, a courtyard or garden, and clear rules — but not vows.
These were not convents.
They were intentional female communities.
One of the most beautiful and best-preserved examples still exists today: the Begijnhof.
Founded around 1346, it sits quietly in the very heart of the city, just steps away from busy streets — a powerful symbol of how these women were part of urban life, not hidden from it.
The Beguines of Amsterdam
The Beguines of Amsterdam lived close to the city center, which tells us something important: they were respected, needed, and protected.
After the Protestant Reformation and the Alteration of 1578, Catholic worship was banned in public spaces — but tolerated in private. While many churches were taken over, the Begijnhof quietly continued as a place of spiritual life.
The Beguines adapted. They always did.
For centuries, the Begijnhof remained a place of silence, care, resilience, and quiet strength. Today, no Beguines live there anymore, but the space retains its contemplative atmosphere. When you enter, the city noise fades — and something softer takes over.
What can we learn from the Beguines today?
The Beguines were not modern feminists — but they were undeniably ahead of their time.
They teach us that:
- Spirituality does not require self-erasure
- Commitment does not have to mean imprisonment
- Community does not require losing oneself
- Service can coexist with dignity and autonomy
For many women today — navigating work, relationships, spirituality, and self-expression — the Beguines offer a forgotten blueprint:
a life of meaning that does not demand disappearance.
And perhaps that is exactly why their story was not passed down to us.
Walking with the Beguines Today
The story of the Beguines is not only something to read about — it is something you can still walk into.
When I guide through Amsterdam, the Begijnhof is never just a “beautiful courtyard.” It is a living trace of women who chose autonomy, community, and spirituality on their own terms — centuries before those words became common.
Exploring this space together allows us to slow down, to read the city differently, and to connect history with our own lives today.
If you feel drawn to these quieter, deeper layers of Amsterdam — the ones that don’t shout, but stay with you — I invite you to explore the city with me.
You can book a private tour with me and experience Amsterdam not only through facts and dates, but through stories of courage, resilience, and forgotten voices that still echo between its walls.
With love,
Constanza.
us.