Single Motherhood

So… Simon came and went, and after discovering the monster that lurked in the dark corners of my subconscious mind (seriously, who invited that guy?), I decided to go on a full-blown hiatus. No dating for me—thank you very much—until I could put myself out there with the emotional support of a therapist. My bestie—neuropsychologist, guru, and human Google for all things brain—put me on the waiting list for her top psychologist. Good things come to those who wait, right? Excep

The timelines are a bit blurry, but I think I was turning ten. My parents were divorced. My mother had full custody of my sister and me, and my dad was—how can I say this?—absent in every possible way. Like, if “ghosting” had a championship, he’d have been the reigning MVP. Family and friends called to wish me happy birthday, but I was waiting for one call that never came. I remember crying in my room until my mother came in. When she asked what was wrong, I told her between

When people talk about kids and divorce, they usually imagine two camps: devastated or resilient. My kids landed somewhere in between. They struggled—sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly—and yet, their strength still surfaced in ways I didn’t expect. The Struggle You Don’t Always See Kids don’t announce their grief in neat little speeches. They don’t sit you down, sitcom-style, and say, “Mom, I am grieving the collapse of our family structure and would like a workbook on emoti