I’m a single mother. There it is, blunt and straightforward. Yet those simple words fail to convey the overwhelming haze of emotions entwined with this reality: I am a single mom. This phrase doesn’t capture the heartache, sacrifices, guilt, shame, loneliness, constant juggling, and uncertainty that come with my path to single parenthood. It feels like a hidden truth I carry, shielding it from the outside world. If you were to browse my social media, you would see nothing but happiness. Even our family doctor is unaware that my child’s father isn’t involved in our lives. Only my closest friends and family know the truth. Inside, I grapple with denial, still clinging to the hope that someday we will reunite as a family. I wish I could switch off these feelings, yet I can’t imagine not loving him. It’s a complicated emotional landscape.
When my relationship fell apart, I relocated to a new town seeking family support. It wasn’t my hometown; it was unfamiliar territory, both in town and state. As a work-from-home mom, finding opportunities for adult interaction became a challenge. So, I took a leap I never thought I would: I joined a local mothers’ group. As an introverted person, my initial meet-up was nerve-wracking. Preparing felt like getting ready for a blind date or the first day at a new school where everyone else is already acquainted. I even texted my best friend about my outfit choice.
Then the moment arrived. I had the perfect opportunity to reveal my single-mom status, and I froze. When asked if I had family nearby, instead of being honest about moving to be with family after a failed relationship, I awkwardly muttered that I wasn’t married but was living with my boyfriend. Yes, I blatantly lied. The other moms glanced at me in confusion, and I realized how inappropriate my response was. I simply couldn’t say, “Hi, I’m currently feeling broken. I’m a single mom.”
I know I should take pride in managing everything on my own and doing a commendable job at it. I should feel proud that I can recite every one of my son’s books from memory because I’ve read them so many times. I should feel accomplished that I respond to every giggle, whimper, and cry, usually understanding exactly what each sound means. I should be proud that my son often reaches for my face to shower me with kisses. I should be proud that I go to bed well after my son and wake up at dawn, more eager to watch him enjoy scrambled eggs than I am exhausted. I should be proud of surviving those sleepless nights when my son insists that nursing is the only way to stay asleep. I should be proud to be present for both joyous and challenging moments. I am there.
One day, I’ll reach a point where seeing traditional families at the park won’t break my heart. One day, I won’t feel that my son is missing out. One day, I will no longer feel like an outsider in the motherhood club. One day, my guilt will fade, and I won’t question what I could have done differently. One day, I will find peace again. I am on that journey.
This experience is shaping me into a better person. My son is fortunate to be growing up in an environment free of contempt and arguments. Looking into his bright, curious eyes gives me immense strength. It’s been nearly a year; while things are gradually becoming easier, they’re certainly not easy, and I suspect they never will be. I am a single mom, and someday, I’ll confidently share that truth with the world.
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In summary, being a single mother comes with a complex mix of emotions and challenges. While it’s a journey filled with heartache and uncertainty, it also offers profound moments of joy and love. I’m learning to embrace my identity and our unique family dynamic, hoping for a brighter future.
Keyphrase: Single mother journey
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