What My Single Mom Taught Me About Strength and Resilience

home insemination Kit

I’ll never forget that flight from Miami to our new adventure in England, floating high above the clouds—my mom in her trusty blue jeans and a breezy blouse, and me dressed from head to toe in purple corduroy. We were literally and figuratively soaring. She was just 34, younger than I am now, and I had recently turned 9. Adorned with purple beads, she embodied the free spirit of her generation, and she was my beautiful anchor.

We were embarking on a fresh chapter. My mom had fallen for a charming Brit, and we were about to start anew. My Peaches ‘n Cream Barbie doll perched awkwardly on the tray table, her dress reflecting the icy landscape of Greenland far below. Growing up in sunny Florida, I had never witnessed snow before this flight. This peculiar journey—Barbie, the tundra, and my mom—was our ticket to freedom.

At that age, I had no grasp of what we were leaving behind or the fresh start we were about to embrace. I didn’t realize that my mother, faced with unimaginable challenges (the sudden loss of my father when I was just 2 and a half was the first major blow, but there had been smaller heartaches too), possessed an incredible strength. She could rise, dust herself off, and begin again, armed with resilience, hope, and a sense of stability. This was a remarkable skill, a true gift.

I was too young to fully understand any of this. I didn’t know that her affinity for the spiritual and the unconventional stemmed from her strict upbringing during a time of turmoil, lived through the experiences of her World War II-era parents. I didn’t realize the significant risks she was taking—leaving her support system in Florida, trying out life in England with a man she barely knew, and uprooting me from my school and culture. She embraced the unknown, driven by a simple question: What did she have to lose?

Somehow, I understood, even without the experience of a decade, that my mom was on a relentless quest for joy — something that can be elusive at times but is worth pursuing. Her unwavering decision to move forward with courage despite her tragic backdrop and her ability to love generously left an imprint on my psyche. I’ve come to recognize this recently, as I navigate my own unexpected divorce after just seven months of marriage.

The joy I once felt being married to someone I loved deeply vanished abruptly when he chose to leave. As I grappled with the grief of losing that relationship, my mom stood by me, offering wise counsel. In this trying time, I find myself channeling strength and discovering resilience within me. I’m starting over—something I could never have imagined as a newlywed.

While the transition from married life to divorce is challenging — and I often find it hard to untangle my emotions — I maintain hope that joy will return. My mother is a living testament that we can live multiple lives within a single lifetime, and that happiness often comes unexpectedly.

I’ve realized that the tools to confront grief were instilled in me by simply being present during my mother’s struggles. I was her little observer. Growing up, I watched my ambitious single mom explore numerous careers, whether it was teaching, nursing, or paralegal work. She donned flowing skirts one year and power suits the next, always trying something new. She worked tirelessly and went through her share of bad dates. After my father’s passing, I stood closest to her, witnessing her relentless search for fulfillment, even in the face of daunting challenges.

Raising me alone was no small feat. My mother’s idyllic life as a happily married young mom came to an abrupt end, thrusting her into single motherhood. I saw her lean on a fantastic support system—family, friends, and colleagues who rallied to help with everything from cooking to babysitting. That taught me an invaluable lesson: we are never truly alone; we just need to reach out. I’ve been doing that more often lately.

My mother’s influence looms large in my life, but her support during this tumultuous period feels especially significant. Having endured her own losses, including the death of her first husband and a later divorce, she understands grief intimately. She is now a wise matriarch whose knowledge and compassion guide me through this tough time. I’ve come to see that the resilience I possess (which I never knew I had) echoes my mother’s example.

These days, my mom has evolved into a talented therapist, finally pursuing her passion. Though she divorced my stepfather years ago, they remain friends and have each found new love. Recently, she changed her name from Margaret to Joy, declaring the former too dull for her vibrant spirit. While I may not feel as joyful at the moment, I recognize my strength, and like my mother, I strive to live with passion, love, and courage, even amid sorrow.

Just like that flight when I was 9, my life feels up in the air again. I’m on a journey to uncharted territory, with my mother steadfastly by my side, a constant source of stability. One day, I hope to embody the resilience, passion, and courage I’ve seen in her for my own future child. It would be wonderful to be the wise matriarch of my family, sharing stories of how incredible Grandma Joy truly is.

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In summary, my mother’s journey through grief and resilience has shaped my understanding of strength, love, and the importance of support. Her experiences serve as a guiding light as I now face my own trials.