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Reflecting back to 2013, it’s shocking to remember how low I felt. It all began when I encountered a married man online — a self-proclaimed spiritual blogger who reached out to me on Facebook. Thus began a tumultuous, misguided romance. From an outsider’s perspective, it’s easy to think, “How foolish.” And it truly was.
The entire affair was undeniably reckless, but being in the midst of it complicates the situation. I didn’t consciously dismiss the glaring warning signs; rather, I hoped desperately for a happy ending. At that point in my life, I felt devoid of anything fulfilling. I was simply going through the motions — working, socializing occasionally on weekends, and just getting by. Fresh out of a toxic five-year engagement, I was drawn to the allure of a new, enigmatic figure who seemed interested in me.
He was married with three children and incredibly self-centered. Yet, I believe many women are conditioned to gravitate towards selfish men, as their behavior offers endless opportunities to validate our own worth in the name of love. I was selfish too, convinced that my happiness justified the secrecy and moral ambiguity of our relationship. My happiness was an illusion, but at the time, I was simply desperate to feel valued.
For many individuals, self-worth is unfortunately tied to the acceptance of others. When love is absent, it can feel as though one’s existence is meaningless. Society often discourages single women from seeking love while simultaneously glorifying romantic partnerships as the ultimate goal. Consequently, although I recognized the fallacy in linking romance to self-worth, I fell prey to that very trap.
The desperation for love can often lead to an unhealthy attachment to toxic relationships. This aspect is often overlooked when discussing affairs. I didn’t understand it at the time, nor for years afterward, but I was addicted to the tumultuous highs and lows of our dysfunctional connection. When he left me just six months after we moved in together, I found myself pregnant and contemplating the unthinkable.
The prospect of raising a child alone filled me with dread. I feared I’d fail as a parent, not only because I struggled with basic tasks and relationships but also because I worried I might harbor resentment toward our child. The end of a relationship often signifies the loss of dreams and futures once envisioned. For me, the realization was crushing; I couldn’t fathom facing a life where I would constantly see reminders of him in our daughter.
I feared becoming someone like Miss Havisham — forever heartbroken and unable to move on. Society’s stigma around women who are abandoned, especially during pregnancy, is harsh. We are often left to navigate the challenges of parenting solo, while being judged for not facilitating a relationship with the often-absent father. Those who do not comply are viewed as bitter or spiteful.
When I entered motherhood, I carried all of that baggage. I was tormented by feelings of failure, believing that my dreams for the future had been dashed. The societal perception of single mothers weighed heavily on me, especially during the early months with my daughter. People would inquire about her father or suggest I seek out a new partner, as if my worth hinged on having a man by my side.
Yet, as my daughter turned seven yesterday, I couldn’t help but reflect on how fortunate I am. She was excited about her birthday, and in our conversations, I realized that I’ve been a mother for seven years. This milestone feels significant, marking the passage of time in a way that is both surreal and rewarding.
Her father has been largely absent, showing up only occasionally in a manner more akin to a distant relative. He stopped by for a few minutes on her birthday to wish her well, but his involvement in her life has been minimal. It used to upset me greatly, thinking I could somehow change his behavior, but as time passed, I learned that I couldn’t control him, nor did I want to.
My daughter and I share a beautiful bond. I often marvel at the simplicity and joy she brings into my life. Her teachers frequently praise her for being smart, creative, and kind. She rarely has bad days, and while she certainly has her moments, they’re few and far between. I’ve come to realize that the challenges of single motherhood haven’t stemmed from her, but rather from the external pressures and expectations placed upon us.
Recently, I had to tell her “no” regarding a birthday party she was eager to attend. It broke my heart, but I explained my concerns about safety, and she surprisingly accepted my decision. Moments like these remind me of how fortunate I am to have such an understanding child, especially considering the tumultuous beginnings of our journey together.
Seven years ago, I never imagined I would be here, thriving as a single mom. The emotional turmoil of my past feels distant now, overshadowed by the joy my daughter brings into my life. Each year, as we celebrate her birthday, I am reminded of the unexpected blessings that have come from our unconventional circumstances.
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In summary, my journey through motherhood has been shaped by unexpected challenges and profound joys. From the precarious start of my relationship with my daughter’s father to the rewarding bond I share with my daughter today, I have learned the importance of resilience and love. Being a single mom has transformed me, revealing strengths I didn’t know I had and filling my life with unexpected happiness.