Let me be candid: I never envisioned myself raising a child alongside a partner. In fact, I never thought I would become a parent at all.
As a child, my playtime revolved around a hairbrush that doubled as a microphone, where I transformed into a rock star, a news anchor, or a celebrated author captivating an audience. Dolls and pretend weddings held no allure for me; those scenarios simply didn’t resonate.
Then came the greatest surprise of my life—my son. A stunning, life-altering gift that I never planned for. I’m grateful my life veered off my original path because the universe knew I needed my son. He has enriched my life in ways I never could have imagined, and I constantly marvel at the privilege of being entrusted with his imaginative spirit.
However, the reality is that I never prepared for this role, which often leaves me feeling lost. Perhaps, in truth, none of us truly know what we’re doing. If only babies could arrive with a manual!
To complicate things further, I’m not just a single mom; I’m a solo mom. This means I don’t get weekends off or a helping hand when I’m overwhelmed. While I’m fortunate to have my mother around, it’s not the same as having a partner equally invested in my child’s upbringing.
My son’s biological father, whom I refer to as a co-creator, resides in Dublin, Ireland. Our love blossomed during my travels through Europe, but when I became pregnant, he chose to step out of the picture. He may share DNA, but a true fatherly role is earned, and he didn’t rise to the occasion.
Being a solo mom can be incredibly tough. Beyond the obvious challenges like finances and responsibilities, there’s the emotional strain of being surrounded by other moms—especially those in co-parenting relationships. Whether it’s swimming lessons or school events, I often find myself facing couples, hand-in-hand, proudly supporting their child.
I observe these women with partners by their sides, and it feels like I’m watching an alien world. I can only imagine the support they share. But I remind myself that my idea of their relationships may be as far from reality as a scripted wrestling match.
In my mind, these couples are best friends, enjoying passionate moments and deep conversations. Yet, the truth is likely much more mundane, involving scheduled intimacy and the occasional deep talk. Regardless, having someone to share in my son’s milestones would be a welcome blessing.
I’m not seeking pity, though. I cherish my independence and autonomy. I’ve never needed a partner to feel important or fulfilled. My strength lies in my self-reliance; I don’t depend on anyone else for emotional or financial support.
That doesn’t mean I’m bitter. Love is beautiful when it’s genuine, but not everyone finds that special person. For me, “my person” is my son. No title I’ve ever held compares to being his mom—it’s a role that is mine forever.
Recently, my son heard someone remark, “I can’t believe you manage it on your own.” Later, he asked me, “Mom, aren’t you happy to be a solo mom?” When I inquired further, he explained, “If you were like those other moms with husbands, I wouldn’t get to spend as much time with you. He’d probably feel left out, and I love it being just the two of us.”
His insight struck me. No one discusses the perks of being a solo mom. I make all the decisions, and I’m present for every moment with my child. I never miss a holiday or weekend. When he’s afraid or hurt, he runs to me. He seeks my advice and shares his day with me.
It may sound selfish, but there’s immense beauty in our duo dynamic. I get to be his top priority, and he’s mine.
As a meme I recently saw put it, “Any woman can be a mother, but it takes a badass woman to be a father too.”
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Summary
In reflecting on my journey as a solo mom, I share the unexpected joys and challenges of raising a child without a partner. While my life didn’t follow the path I once envisioned, I find fulfillment in my unique relationship with my son. Our bond, free from the complexities of co-parenting, allows us to experience life together in a way that is truly special.