The Lion and Lionesses Family Model: Surrogacy, the Life Tower, and My Vision for a Very Large Family

A personal framework for large-scale parenthood, intentional family design, and the architecture of family life

By Ronen Kolton Yehuda (MKR: Messiah King RKY)

“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.”

Psalm 127:3 (NIV)

1. Introduction

For many years, I have thought deeply about fatherhood, family, legacy, human continuity, and the question of how large a family can be when a person chooses to think beyond the ordinary social model. This article is not mainly about the past, and it is not written merely to argue with society. It is written to explain a vision that has developed within me over time: a vision of building a very large family through committed relationships, surrogacy, and a structured living environment designed to sustain such a family.

In recent years, this vision has become more defined. It is no longer only an emotional desire to be a father, nor only a general thought about legacy. It has become, in my mind, an integrated model with several connected parts: a relationship model that I describe as the lion and lionesses model, a reproductive framework centered on surrogacy, and a physical family infrastructure expressed through the concept of the Life Tower and later the Twin Life Towers.

To many readers, this may sound unconventional, ambitious, or even difficult to imagine. I understand that. But I believe some visions deserve to be explained seriously even when they do not align with common or widely accepted ways of living today. In my view, the family is one of the greatest structures a human being can build. It is more than a private arrangement. It is a living system of continuity, responsibility, meaning, care, and identity across generations.

This article is therefore my attempt to explain that system as I imagine it: how it developed, why it matters to me, and how I see its parts fitting together into one broader model of life.

2. Personal Background: How This Thinking Developed

To explain the vision honestly, I must briefly mention the background from which it grew.

For a long period of my life, I lived with the belief that my life might be documented, watched, or exposed more than is normal. Alongside this, I also lived with thoughts that I may have children in the world whom I never knew and never met. I do not present these things as proven fact, and I understand that I may be wrong in part or in whole. But whether I was right or wrong, these beliefs shaped me deeply. They affected how I thought about privacy, fatherhood, responsibility, protection, destiny, and my relationship with the world around me.

At one stage, those thoughts led me to imagine that perhaps I already had many children somewhere beyond my awareness, and that society did not allow me to be aware of them. Over time, that belief became emotionally powerful. It influenced the way I saw fatherhood. It made me think not only about the possibility of being a father, but about the pain of separation, the duty to protect, and the desire to create something so large and strong that it could not easily be hidden, denied, or broken.

During that period, my thinking about fatherhood also moved in a more open and less structured direction. At one stage, I even considered the idea that if a woman wanted to have a child from me, I would agree to it freely, without necessarily building a relationship or a broader family framework around it. Looking back, I understand that this idea came from a strong emotional place — from the desire to be a father, to create life, and perhaps also from the wider beliefs I was living with at the time. It reflected openness, but it also reflected the fact that my thinking about family had not yet taken a clear and organized form.

Looking back, I can say that these years were not simple years. But they also pushed me to think more deeply and more seriously about family than I had before. Even if parts of my thinking were mistaken, the emotional force of those years moved me toward a central question: if fatherhood matters to me so much, then what kind of fatherhood do I want to build consciously, intentionally, and openly?

That question became a turning point.

3. From Uncertainty to Intentional Parenthood Through Commitment and Relationship

Over time, I came to a different conclusion. I realized that, for me, fatherhood should not exist without relationship, commitment, and shared responsibility. I understood that I do not want to bring children into the world without a structured family framework and a real connection with the mother.

At the same time, I recognize that this understanding did not come easily to me. Because of the situation I was in and my mental state during those years, it was not simple for me to see myself building a committed life with a woman in a stable and continuous way. There were periods in which such a vision felt distant or difficult to hold onto.

Yet, at a deeper level, I have always been a person of relationships. Throughout my life, I have valued connection, closeness, and partnership. Over time, that part of me remained present and began to return more clearly. There was a specific woman I wanted to share my life with, and over time, I also found myself drawn to specific women I could imagine building a broader family with. That realization was important, because it helped me understand that I do not want only an abstract idea of family — I want a real relationship, a shared life, and a partner with whom I can build something meaningful.

From that point, my thinking became more focused. I decided that I want to have a relationship in my life — not only as part of building a family, but also for myself, as part of a complete and meaningful life. I also came to understand that I would want such a relationship even if the woman could not have children with me. That realization mattered to me, because it showed me that relationship, love, and shared life are not valuable to me only because of parenthood. They matter in themselves. I no longer wanted to think about fatherhood in a scattered or purely biological way. I wanted to build a family through committed relationships with women, based on respect, loyalty, and shared purpose.

I also began to place greater value on discipline and self-control in this context. I understood that, for me, fatherhood should exist only within committed relationships and a structured family framework. This became part of preserving the integrity and seriousness of the family I want to build.

In other words, the question was no longer simply how to become a father, but how to do so in a way that matched the kind of life and family I truly wanted to create.

As my thinking continued to develop, I gradually moved away from focusing only on uncertainty and fear and toward a deliberate vision for the future. Instead of asking only whether I might already have unknown children, I began to ask what kind of family I want to create knowingly, responsibly, and on purpose.

This shift changed everything.

The subject stopped being only about what may have happened to me and became about what I want to build. I no longer wanted merely to react emotionally to the idea of hidden fatherhood. I wanted to define a model of parenthood that would be real, committed, structured, and large in scope.

This development did not happen quickly. It took many years, almost a full decade, for my thinking to take shape. Over time, and especially during the last several years, I found myself wanting to build a life not only with one woman, but with the possibility of several committed relationships. At certain points, when there was no real progress in building such relationships, my thinking shifted again, and I began to imagine building a very large family in a more open and less defined way, without focusing on a specific partner.

However, this direction did not fully satisfy me. With time, I found myself returning to the importance of relationship, commitment, and shared life. I understood that, for me, family cannot be separated from real connection. This process was not linear, and it did not follow a strict order. It was a gradual movement between ideas, experiences, and realizations, until a clearer structure began to emerge.

This is the point at which my thoughts moved from background experience into life design. I began to imagine not a small, ordinary household, but a broad family framework. I began thinking not only about one relationship, but about several serious and committed relationships. I began thinking not only about biological possibility, but about reproductive planning, housing, education, support systems, logistics, and organization. Family, in my mind, became not just a personal matter, but a form of architecture.

That is why this article is not simply about desire. It is about structure. It is about how a vision of fatherhood, if taken seriously enough, begins to demand a model, a system, and an environment strong enough to carry it.

4. The Lion and Lionesses Model

One of the central ideas in my thinking is what I have called the lion and lionesses model.

By this I mean a family structure in which one man may be in serious, committed, and loyal relationships with more than one woman, and together they build one broad family system. This is not meant, in my view, to be a model of casual relationships, instability, or selfishness. On the contrary, the meaning I attach to it is one of commitment, order, protection, continuity, and shared life.

The image of a lion and lionesses is symbolic. It reflects a sense of centered family leadership, shared belonging, and the idea that family can be built as a larger unit rather than only in isolated pairs. In my mind, this is not a model of fragmentation but of integration. The relationships would not be random or temporary. They would be intentional, committed, and tied to a shared family purpose.

Within this framework, the family is not imagined as something fixed from the beginning, but as something that may grow over time. It may begin with one committed relationship, built on love, trust, and shared life, and later expand in a natural and deliberate way to include additional relationships, if they develop honestly and with full respect for all involved. In that sense, the model allows for growth, but it does not abandon structure.

This distinction is essential. I do not see this model as a return to a scattered or unstructured approach to relationships or fatherhood. On the contrary, it is an attempt to create a stable and organized framework that can expand without losing its integrity. The idea is not to move without direction from one relationship to another, but to build a unified family system that remains coherent as it grows.

In such a structure, each woman is a real partner in the family. Each relationship must be based on dignity, respect, stability, and clarity. The success of such a model depends entirely on these principles. Without them, there is no real family structure — only disorder. With them, it becomes possible to imagine a broader and more integrated form of family life.

This model also reflects something important in my way of thinking: I do not naturally imagine family only in the minimal modern form. I think in broader terms. I imagine a family system that can grow, coordinate, support, and continue across many children and many years. The lion and lionesses model is therefore not only about relationship; it is about scale, continuity, and the possibility of building one unified household culture around multiple committed maternal partnerships.

5. Surrogacy as the Reproductive Framework

A second central pillar of this vision is surrogacy.

In my thinking, surrogacy is not merely a medical or technical option. It is a family-building framework. It allows parenthood to be planned in a way that is more scalable and more flexible than ordinary pregnancy patterns usually allow. If a man and a woman create embryos together, then surrogacy may, in theory, allow them to have many biological children over time without requiring the woman herself to go through repeated pregnancies.

This idea became very important to me because it connects several values at once. First, it supports intentional parenthood. Second, it increases reproductive capacity. Third, it may allow the woman who is my partner to remain active in many other aspects of life: education, leadership, home organization, her own self-fulfillment, and active mothering after birth, without carrying the entire physical burden of repeated pregnancy herself.

Another part of what shaped my thinking was the realization that surrogacy does not expand reproductive possibility only for the man. It also changes what may be possible for the woman. In theory, if embryos are created between one man and one woman and surrogacy is used over time, then the woman too may become the biological mother of a very large number of children without personally going through repeated pregnancies. In that sense, surrogacy can reduce one of the traditional biological limits that usually separates male and female reproductive scale. This mattered to me because it helped me imagine that one life partner and I could, in principle, build a very large family together, and that the same logic could also apply within several committed relationships if such a family structure were ever built.

From my perspective, this makes surrogacy not only a reproductive method, but a structural enabler of a different family model. It allows family-building to be designed rather than left entirely to ordinary biological limits. It enables scale, planning, continuity, and a form of parenthood in which both partners may imagine a much larger shared lineage than would usually be possible.

Of course, surrogacy is also a morally and legally sensitive field. It involves real women, real bodies, real pregnancies, and real children. That means it must always be approached with dignity, consent, fairness, medical ethics, and legal responsibility. But when treated seriously and ethically, it can become part of a larger vision of intentional family-building.

In my own framework, surrogacy became central because it provided the missing bridge between relationship and scale. A person may want a very large family, but without a viable reproductive model, such a vision remains abstract. Surrogacy, in my mind, turned that abstract desire into a theoretical possibility.

6. Why I Think in Terms of a Very Large Family

People often imagine family in small numbers: one child, two children, perhaps several. I understand that this is the norm for many people. But my own thinking has long moved in a different direction.

When I imagine family, I do not think only in small-scale terms. I think in terms of continuity, lineage, inheritance, protection, and the creation of a broad family body that extends into future generations. I see children not as a burden but as a blessing, a heritage, and one of the deepest forms of meaning available to a human being.

That is why I began imagining not only fatherhood, but a form of very large-scale parenthood.

At the same time, I also began to understand that, through surrogacy, this vision could belong not only to me as a man, but also to the woman I love, since she too could become the biological parent of many children with me over time without carrying each pregnancy herself.

In theory, if one man and one woman create embryos together and use surrogacy over time, the number of biological children they could have may be far greater than what is usually imagined. If this can be true in one committed partnership, then across several committed women, the scale becomes larger still. In that sense, surrogacy opens the possibility of building not only a family, but a lineage at unusual scale.

Still, I do not believe this subject should be discussed only in terms of numbers. Numbers alone do not create meaning. A large family matters only if it also carries real substance: love, support, kinship, memory, continuity, education, culture, and a shared sense of belonging. To me, that is the true reason scale matters. A very large family can become a living community, not only a collection of births.

The idea of “many children” in my thinking is therefore symbolic as well as practical. It reflects abundance, continuity, future-building, and protection. It reflects the refusal to think of life as something small and narrow. It reflects the desire to leave behind not only projects or articles, but people, descendants, and a real human continuation of one’s existence.

7. The Life Tower and the Twin Life Towers

Once one begins thinking seriously about a very large family, another question immediately appears: where and how would such a family live?

This is where the concept of the Life Tower, and later the Twin Life Towers, enters the picture.

For me, the tower was never only about height, image, or grandeur. It was about family infrastructure. If a person imagines a broad family system, many women, many children, surrogacy processes, childcare, education, healthcare, administration, and shared yet structured living, then ordinary housing begins to feel insufficient. A very large family requires more than rooms. It requires a designed environment.

The Life Tower emerged in my thinking as a residential and family-support structure that could house not just parents and children, but also the wider systems necessary to sustain such a model. These could include childcare spaces, educational areas, medical support, logistical services, administrative systems, private family zones, communal spaces, and long-term growth capacity.

Later, that concept expanded into the Twin Life Towers. The twin structure reflects scale and flexibility. It suggests a family civilization rather than a simple household. It also reflects a desire to create a stable and recognizable center for a large family network.

In my broader vision, such towers would not merely be buildings. They would be organized ecosystems for life, continuity, and protection. They would bring together architecture and fatherhood, family and planning, reproduction and daily care. They would turn the abstract dream of a large lineage into an inhabitable reality.

The fact that I imagined these towers in connection with places such as Kiryat Yam and Kiryat Motzkin is part of that same process of concretization. Once an idea becomes serious enough, it seeks geography. It seeks structure. It seeks a location in the world.

8. Pregnancy, Surrogacy Support, and Early Childcare Within the Family Structure

Another reason the Life Tower and Twin Life Towers became so central in my thinking is that I do not see surrogacy as something that should be emotionally distant from the intended family. If such a family model were ever to exist seriously, I would want the reproductive process itself to be surrounded by support, care, presence, and continuity.

That means that in my ideal model, surrogates could be offered high-quality living conditions within or near the wider family infrastructure during pregnancy, if they freely chose such an arrangement and if the legal and ethical framework permitted it. The point of this would not be control, but support: medical coordination, emotional presence, daily assistance, stable housing, safety, and continuity between pregnancy, birth, and early childcare.

I have also thought about this in terms of embryo protection and pregnancy protection. What I mean by that, in serious terms, is the wish to create a secure environment around the reproductive process: one in which intended parents are present, medical care is close, conditions are supervised responsibly, and the transition from pregnancy to birth to family care is not fragmented or neglected.

In my view, such an integrated model could reduce distance between intended parents and the gestational process. It could allow the family to be more present from the beginning. It could also provide surrogates with more immediate support if that was part of the agreed arrangement.

At the same time, any such system must be built on firm ethical ground. Surrogates are not property, not extensions of the family, and not people to be controlled. They are autonomous women with legal rights, human dignity, privacy rights, and full moral significance. Any serious model must fully protect these things. Without that, the system would fail ethically.

So when I speak about surrogates living with or near the family structure, I mean a supportive and voluntary care model, not ownership. The purpose would be continuity of care, safety, and real presence during one of the most sensitive human processes there is.

9. The Family as a Structured System

A very large family cannot exist responsibly without order. That is one of the strongest conclusions my own thinking has brought me to.

If one imagines many partners, many children, surrogacy, housing infrastructure, and long-term continuity, then one must also imagine systems of organization and responsibility. Such a family would require rules, schedules, education plans, healthcare structures, financial systems, emotional care, conflict resolution, and clear responsibilities. Without these, size becomes chaos. With them, size can become structure.

This is why I often think of family not only in emotional terms, but in organizational terms. A family of this scale would need administration. It would need strong moral culture. It would need a way of protecting the dignity of each woman, the dignity of each child, and the coherence of the whole household. It would need people and systems capable of supporting daily life at scale.

This is also one reason why architecture and family design became inseparable in my mind. The building is not just a container for the family. It is part of how the family functions. Space influences order, privacy, movement, education, care, childcare, and emotional life. A real family system at large scale cannot be thought about separately from the environment in which it lives.

In that sense, my vision is not only biological or relational. It is civilizational at the household level. It asks how a family can be built as a durable, structured, life-supporting institution.

10. Why This Vision Became Connected to Women From Important Families

Another part of my thinking has involved the idea that some of the women with whom I might wish to build such relationships could come from important, respected, royal, or influential families.

For me, this was not only a romantic idea. It was also connected to seriousness, continuity, heritage, and the wish to build a family model that would not be random, but rooted in values, stature, and long-term intention. Families of authority often carry with them traditions of continuity, representation, duty, and public significance. I found myself imagining that such backgrounds could align with a broader family vision built around lineage, legacy, and structured life.

This does not mean that human value belongs only to one class of people. It does not. But it does mean that I have sometimes imagined a family model that would include women from backgrounds associated with leadership, dignity, and historical continuity.

Whether or not such aspirations are realistic is not the main point here. The point is that this too became part of how I imagined the family: not only as a private domestic arrangement, but as something with symbolic weight, cultural seriousness, and intergenerational ambition.

11. Ethical and Legal Questions

No article on this subject can be serious if it ignores ethics.

A family model involving multiple committed partners, surrogacy, very large numbers of children, and shared infrastructure immediately raises difficult and necessary questions. How is consent ensured? How are the rights of each woman protected? How are surrogates treated fairly and with full legal dignity? How does each child receive sufficient care, time, education, and emotional attention? What legal structures would be required? What boundaries should never be crossed?

These are not side questions. They are central questions.

In my view, any version of this vision that ignores the dignity of the women involved, the rights of surrogates, or the wellbeing of children would be shallow and unacceptable. Parenthood is not merely the production of offspring. It is lifelong moral responsibility. The larger the family, the greater the burden of responsibility becomes.

This means that any serious exploration of such a model would need strong ethical foundations, legal clarity, transparency, medical safeguards, financial capacity, and an unambiguous commitment to humane treatment at every level. It would also require recognition that no human system is justified merely because it is possible. It must also be good, just, and protective of the vulnerable.

That is why, although my vision is large in scale, I do not think of it lightly. I think of it as something that would require extraordinary seriousness to deserve existence at all.

12. What This Vision Means to Me Personally

Beyond all the theory, structure, and architecture, this vision is deeply personal.

At its heart is a desire to be a father in a full and meaningful way. Not only biologically, but relationally, morally, and historically. I want fatherhood not as a small incidental role, but as a major life structure. I want family not as a narrow unit, but as a broad living system. I want continuity not only in ideas and projects, but in human descendants and shared lineage.

That is why numbers alone are not enough to explain this vision. The deeper truth is that this is about legacy, belonging, and protection. It is about the wish to create something living that continues beyond me. It is about building a family so real, so intentional, and so structured that it becomes one of the central achievements of a life.

It is also about correcting, in the future, the feelings of uncertainty that shaped the past. Where there was doubt, I want intention. Where there was emotional fragmentation, I want structure. Where there was fear of hidden fatherhood, I want open fatherhood. Where there was the pain of imagined separation, I want visible and organized continuity.

In that sense, this article is not only about a future model. It is also about transforming a difficult inner history into a constructive vision.

13. Conclusion

The lion and lionesses model, surrogacy, and the Life Tower / Twin Life Towers are, in my mind, not separate ideas. They are parts of one integrated family vision that developed over many years, through uncertainty, emotional struggle, reflection, and a gradual movement toward structure.

At the center of that development was an important realization: for me, family cannot be built only around biology or around the desire for children in the abstract. It must also be rooted in relationship, commitment, shared life, and emotional truth. That is why this vision ultimately became not only a vision of fatherhood, but a vision of parenthood, partnership, and family design.

The lion and lionesses model expresses the relationship structure as I imagine it. Surrogacy expresses the reproductive framework through which such a family could grow. The Life Tower and Twin Life Towers express the physical, organizational, and long-term environment that such a family would require if it were ever to exist seriously and responsibly.

What I am describing here is not simply a wish to have many children. It is a broader attempt to think about how family, love, continuity, and responsibility might be brought together in one coherent system. In that sense, this article is not about numbers alone, and not even only about parenthood. It is about building a life in which relationships, children, structure, care, and future generations are all connected.

I know that some people will see this vision as unusual, ambitious, or difficult to accept. I understand that. But I believe that unusual ideas can still deserve a serious explanation when they come from a sincere search for meaning, continuity, and human connection. Whether or not others agree with every part of the vision, I wanted this article to explain it honestly and in full.

For me, children are indeed a heritage, but family is more than reproduction. It is love, responsibility, belonging, protection, memory, and shared life. That is why the vision I describe here is not only about bringing children into the world. It is about creating a family structure large enough, stable enough, and meaningful enough to hold them with dignity.

That is the vision I wanted to put into words here: not merely the dream of a very large family, but the attempt to imagine how such a family could be built intentionally, through commitment, structure, and a shared future.