Single Motherhood

Am I a single mom, or am I co-parenting? A friend recently told me there’s a quiet debate around women who call themselves single mothers when an ex-husband is still technically in the picture — someone the children know, someone who shows up… occasionally… like a seasonal pop-up shop you forget exists until it randomly reappears. She warned me to be careful with that label. Apparently, it can make people uncomfortable. But it’s hard not to call yourself a single mom when, in

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

Everyone’s story is different. Some women never see it coming while others made the choice to leave. Whatever the case may be we all grieve the end of a marriage. Differently, at different stages but we grieve regardless. In my case, I felt relieved when he left. I felt like I was breathing better for the first time in years. Seeing my children’s pain however also brought strong feelings of guilt. So I acted on it. I overcompensated, I over-explained, I checked in constantly.