Accepting The Difficult Days As A Single Mum
Finding strength in knowing I am part of a universal connection to women across time and space
It’s not been the easiest week.
It’s fair to say that my best self has gone missing this week and is possibly seeking enlightenment at the bottom of a bottle of wine.
This is not a week where my actions have taken me a step closer to my highest good.
Boundaries have been brushed aside; my purpose is pissing me off.
The affirmations are not working this week.
I’m tired of it all.
It’s hard.
It’s lonely.
Most weeks I am a multi-tasking Olympian. Powering through like Super Mum, laser-focused and wearing my ‘Resilient’ badge with pride. Because that is the label bestowed upon me by those who know me best. It has been mentioned more times than I can count.
They see me swirling like a tornado, cutting a path through calamity, sheltering my son from the storms, whilst letting the rain fall in knives upon my shoulders.
But this week I am drowning.
The load is heavy and I’ve stumbled under the weight, sinking beneath the surface and too tired to swim.
There was no catastrophe this week, no trigger points or mountain to climb. It’s just been an average week. But sometimes the little things accumulate until they beg to be heard.
It’s the daily trudge through emails and deadlines, the never-ending school runs, cleaning, shopping, ironing, and homework. Arguments over hair brushing and teeth cleaning and why is the laundry never put in the basket?!!
It’s the ‘oh shit’ the MOT is due and ‘how the hell do I cover the rent increase?’
It’s quietly wrapping my oven-burnt arm in cling film and letting the tears roll as I finish cooking the dinner.
It’s drowning under the weight of the responsibility, the anxiety, the nightmares.
Alone.
It’s seeing the parties I’m not part of, flash up on my feed, feeling the friendships slip away with every invitation I turn down.
Fumbled excuses when I can’t afford to join in, missing the ‘in jokes’ about that time I wasn’t there.
Slipping behind in the dance classes I keep missing.
Over time I’ve given up on being sociable, for it’s easier to be alone, than lonely in a crowd.
I’m living a hybrid life where I don’t fit in. Feeling part-time as a mother, the wrenching ache when I can’t be with my child. Contrasted with the craving for connection outside of our little bubble. Then the crushing guilt that I need to be a woman as well as a mum.
Wondering if I did something wrong to end up so alone.
It’s a tough life as a single parent. It’s not for the faint-hearted. I didn’t choose this, but I wouldn’t change it.
For it takes courage, resilience, and resourcefulness. Channeling a strength I didn’t know I had. It requires creativity and flexibility, patience, and grit. It’s shaped me into the woman I’m proud to be and the mum I hope my son is proud of too.
So even though he’s currently dropping crumbs all over the floor I’ve just hoovered… I’ll keep trudging through each day for him. His giggles, bedtime snuggles, sticky kisses, and the pictures he draws fill my heart until it overflows.
I love him more than the missed parties, enough to brave the school run. I’m grateful for the privilege of being a mum and the honour of being his.
I know that the wild woman inside of me is strong enough to endure even the fiercest storm. That a mother’s love is the strongest force on earth.
I know that I’m connected to my soul sisters, the brave mothers across the world and throughout time, that have fought to protect and provide for their children, even when they are worn down and broken. These strong women would take a piece of their hearts out to repair their children if anyone ever hurt them.
I am proud to be one of them. I know that I am held up by them, that they won’t ever let me sink.
Their whispered messages that transcend space and time will raise me up.
So, for now, I’ll surrender to the embrace of the ocean, cleansing and restorative, I’ll float on the waves in peace. Letting the weight of my struggle fall to the sea bed.
Accepting that the difficult days will come but never break me.
