How to Become a Nun: Understanding the Sacred Journey of Religious Life

The path to becoming a nun isn't something you stumble upon during a career fair. It's a calling that whispers—sometimes shouts—from somewhere deep within, often catching women completely off guard. I've spent years talking with sisters from various orders, and what strikes me most is how differently each woman's journey unfolds, yet how similar the core pull feels to each of them.

Religious life for women has evolved dramatically since the days of medieval convents, though the essence remains unchanged: a radical commitment to God through vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. But let me tell you, these three words barely scratch the surface of what this life actually entails.

The Calling: More Than Just a Feeling

Sister Catherine once told me over tea that her calling felt like "falling in love, except the beloved was invisible and everywhere at once." Not everyone experiences it this way. Some women describe a gradual awakening, like watching the sunrise in slow motion over months or years. Others get hit with what I can only describe as spiritual lightning.

The discernment process—that's the formal term for figuring out if you're actually called to religious life—can take anywhere from a few months to several years. And honestly? It should. This isn't like choosing between law school and medical school. You're essentially deciding to marry God and join a community that will become your family for life.

What surprises many people is that nuns today come from incredibly diverse backgrounds. I've met former CEOs, artists, doctors, and yes, even a former punk rock drummer who now serves as a Benedictine sister. The stereotype of the sheltered Catholic schoolgirl entering the convent straight from high school? That's largely a relic of the past.

Understanding Different Religious Communities

Here's where things get wonderfully complex. Not all nuns are the same—not even close. The variety of religious communities available to women is staggering, each with its own charism (that's Catholic-speak for their special spiritual gift or mission).

You've got contemplative orders like the Carmelites and Poor Clares, who spend most of their time in prayer and rarely leave their monasteries. These women are the spiritual powerhouses, the prayer warriors who believe their hidden life of intercession changes the world. And based on my conversations with them, I'm inclined to believe it.

Then there are active communities—the Dominicans, Franciscans, Sisters of Mercy, and dozens more—who work in schools, hospitals, social justice initiatives, you name it. These sisters are out in the world, sleeves rolled up, doing the work. One Sister of St. Joseph I know runs a legal aid clinic for immigrants. Another Dominican sister has a PhD in astrophysics and teaches at a university.

The distinction between "nun" and "sister" actually matters here, though most people use the terms interchangeably. Technically, nuns are cloistered (living in monasteries with limited outside contact), while sisters belong to active congregations. But I've given up correcting people at dinner parties—life's too short.

Age Requirements and Life Circumstances

Most communities accept women between 18 and 40, though I've seen exceptions on both ends. The upper age limit isn't about ageism—it's practical. Religious life is demanding, physically and emotionally, and communities need to ensure new members can fully participate in their mission for decades to come.

But here's what they don't always advertise: many communities are becoming more flexible. Some now accept women up to 50, especially if they bring needed skills. A nurse or teacher in her mid-40s might find doors open that would be closed to others.

If you're divorced, you'll need an annulment from the Catholic Church. Have kids? They need to be grown and independent. Debt? Most communities require you to be debt-free before entering, though some will work with you to create a plan. One woman I know sold her condo and used the proceeds to pay off her student loans before entering religious life at 35.

The Practical Steps: From Inquiry to Final Vows

The journey typically unfolds in stages, and patience isn't just a virtue here—it's mandatory. First comes the "Come and See" period. Communities invite interested women to visit, sometimes for a weekend, sometimes for a week or more. You eat with the sisters, pray with them, maybe help with their work. It's like a very holy version of job shadowing.

I remember one woman telling me about her first visit to a monastery. "I expected angels singing and immediate certainty," she laughed. "Instead, I got assigned to weed the garden and discovered the sisters argued about whose turn it was to clean the bathroom. It was perfectly, beautifully human."

If both you and the community feel there's a mutual fit, you might enter as an aspirant or postulant. This period, lasting six months to a year, is like dating, but with a lot more prayer and a lot less Netflix. You live with the community but don't take any vows yet. You're free to leave anytime, and honestly, many do. There's no shame in discovering this isn't your path.

Next comes the novitiate—usually two years of intensive formation. The first year is canonical, meaning the Church requires you to focus primarily on prayer, study, and spiritual development. No outside ministry work, minimal contact with family and friends. It's intense. One novice described it as "spiritual boot camp, but with better food and more singing."

After novitiate, you take temporary vows, renewable annually for three to nine years depending on the community. Only then do you make perpetual vows—the permanent commitment. By this point, you've been in formation for 5-10 years. The Church wants to be really, really sure you know what you're doing.

The Education and Preparation You'll Need

Forget the old image of nuns as simple, uneducated women. Today's communities often require at least a bachelor's degree, and many sisters pursue advanced degrees. The intellectual rigor in many communities would surprise outsiders. I've attended theology discussions in convents that rivaled any university seminar.

But formal education is just one piece. You'll study theology, scripture, church history, and your community's particular spirituality. You'll also receive practical training in whatever ministry your community undertakes. Teaching sisters get education degrees. Nursing sisters train in healthcare. Social justice advocates study law or social work.

The personal development aspect can be even more challenging. You'll undergo psychological evaluations (yes, really), spiritual direction, and honest community discussions about your strengths and growth areas. One sister told me, "Living in community strips away all your masks. You can't hide who you really are when you're praying, eating, working, and living with the same people 24/7."

Daily Life: The Reality Behind the Habit

Let me dispel some myths. Most sisters today don't wear full habits, though some communities do. Daily life varies enormously between communities, but certain rhythms persist. Prayer anchors the day—usually morning prayer, Mass, evening prayer, and some form of meditation or contemplative practice. But between those anchors? Sisters are teaching, nursing, advocating, administering, creating, and serving in countless ways.

The schedule can be demanding. One Dominican sister showed me her daily routine: up at 5:30 for morning prayer, Mass at 6:30, breakfast in silence, then off to teach high school physics all day, back for evening prayer, dinner with the community, then grading papers or attending meetings until night prayer at 9. "And that's a light day," she grinned.

Community living presents its own challenges. Imagine living with anywhere from 3 to 300 other women, sharing everything from bathroom schedules to major decisions about the community's future. Personalities clash. Disagreements arise about everything from liturgy to laundry duty. But here's the thing—you work through it. You have to. These are your sisters for life.

The Vows: Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience in the 21st Century

Let's talk about the elephant in the room—or rather, the three elephants. The vows seem impossibly countercultural today, and honestly, they are. That's partly the point.

Poverty doesn't mean destitution. Sisters have their needs met—food, shelter, healthcare, education. But they own nothing personally. That smartphone? It belongs to the community. The car you drive to work? Community property. Your salary if you work outside the convent? Goes straight to the community.

One sister explained it beautifully: "Poverty frees me from the tyranny of stuff. I don't worry about mortgage payments or keeping up with fashion. My energy goes toward relationships and service instead of accumulating and maintaining possessions."

Chastity—celibacy—might be the hardest sell in our hypersexualized culture. But the sisters I know don't see it as giving up love or intimacy. They experience deep friendships, familial bonds with their communities, and what they describe as an intense relationship with God. "My heart isn't divided," one contemplative nun told me. "It's wholly available for God and for everyone I encounter."

Obedience might sound medieval, but it's more nuanced than blind submission. Decisions in most modern communities involve extensive dialogue and discernment. Yes, you might be asked to take on a ministry you didn't choose or move to a different convent. But it's done through conversation, prayer, and mutual respect, not authoritarian decree.

Financial Realities and Community Support

Here's something people rarely discuss: the economics of religious life. When you enter a community, you bring nothing and own nothing. The community provides everything—housing, food, clothing, healthcare, education, even vacation time (yes, nuns take vacations).

But communities are struggling financially. Fewer young women entering means fewer working sisters supporting larger numbers of elderly sisters. Healthcare costs for aging communities are astronomical. Some communities have had to sell motherhouses or merge with others to survive.

If you're considering religious life, ask hard questions about the community's financial stability. How do they support themselves? What's their plan for caring for elderly sisters? Are they growing, stable, or declining? It's not unspiritual to be practical about these things.

The Challenges Nobody Talks About

Religious life isn't a escape from the world's problems—sometimes it magnifies them. Communities struggle with the same issues as any organization: personality conflicts, generational differences, resistance to change, financial pressures.

The loneliness can be real, especially in the early years. You might be the only sister under 60 in your community. Family and friends might not understand your choice. The secular world often views you as a curiosity at best, a relic at worst.

One younger sister confided, "Some days I feel like I'm living in a museum. We're trying to adapt centuries-old traditions to modern realities, and not everyone agrees on how to do that." The tension between tradition and innovation creates real friction in many communities.

Is This Life for You?

After all this, you might be wondering if I'm trying to talk you out of religious life. I'm not. But I believe in honest disclosure. This life is beautiful, challenging, fulfilling, and demanding in equal measure.

The sisters I know wouldn't trade their lives for anything. They've found a purpose that transcends personal ambition, a community that supports them through everything, and a relationship with God that sustains them through dark nights and bright mornings alike.

If you're feeling called, take the next small step. Contact a vocation director. Visit a community. Pray—a lot. Talk to sisters who've been living this life for decades and those who've just begun. Be honest about your desires, fears, and questions.

Remember, discernment is a two-way street. You're discerning religious life, but communities are also discerning whether you're called to their particular way of life. Not every community is right for every woman, and that's okay.

One last thought from Sister Marie, who entered religious life 40 years ago: "People ask if I ever regret not having children or a husband, not owning a house or traveling the world on my own terms. But I've been a mother to thousands of students, a sister to the most amazing women, and I've traveled interior landscapes most people never discover. My life is smaller in some ways and infinitely larger in others. That's the paradox of religious life—in giving up everything, you receive everything that truly matters."

The path to becoming a nun isn't for everyone. But for those truly called, it offers a way of life that's radically countercultural, deeply fulfilling, and ultimately transformative—not just for the woman who chooses it, but for everyone whose life she touches.

Authoritative Sources:

Schneiders, Sandra M. Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life. New York: Paulist Press, 2001.

Wittberg, Patricia. The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders: A Social Movement Perspective. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994.

Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life." Vatican.va. The Holy See, 1983.

United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. "Vocations to the Consecrated Life." USCCB.org. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2022.

Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate. "Recent Vocations to Religious Life: A Report for the National Religious Vocation Conference." Georgetown.edu. Georgetown University, 2020.