A Mother's Perspective

I don’t know that anyone really plans and truly wants to be a single mother.  I know it wasn’t in my plan, but life often turns out differently than we ever dream or expect.

For me, from the minute I knew I was pregnant; life became centered on taking care of my baby.  My unborn child was like a force within that drove me to be my best, powered every movement and was the guide for every decision.  Even before I was divorced, I had a silent premonition that it would be just me and my baby, together, to face the world.

The destruction of divorce paralyzed me in ways and I don’t believe I ever fully recovered.  Although I never allowed anyone to see the fear or any sign of weakness, I was afraid every single day. I just had to be strong, couldn’t let my baby feel or see my sadness or weakness.  I was driven to make the life she deserved. 

And so I tried, oh how I tried.  Trying to climb the corporate ladder and rise above what seemed to be a life cemented into “barely getting by”.  I worked hard, so many hours, trying to get ahead and move forward, while at the same time trying to give my child quality time, a quality life.  It was tough, trying to balance work with being a good momma.  Then, to try and fit in dating…ha!  What a joke.  I could never really find the balance.  Dating as a single mother never really worked for me.  My child was always the priority, and most men I dated didn’t like or accept that.  But I tried.  So many people warned me not to make my child the center of my life, told me I had to make time for me.  So I dated and throughout the years, had a few long term relationships, even engagements, but never made it back to the altar.  It just never seemed right. 

Day to day life as a single parent isn’t easy, and I’ve spent nights every year crying myself to sleep; wishing I had someone to take the reins just for a little while, earn the living, pay the bills, make all the important decisions.  Then morning would come, and so did the happy face and hope for a new beginning.  No matter what, I loved my child.  My belief in God wavered but never went away.  I knew He was with me, and I could do anything for my child.  I may have not been a well rounded adult, but I felt I scored an “A” in motherhood. 

Then one day I had a conversation with my adult child, and it reminded me of my childhood, and growing up with a single dad.  After he remarried, I remembered always feeling resentful, never believing he was doing everything he could for me and my brothers.   Although I knew he loved us, I always felt he could do more.  Now, after having some serious conversations with my daughter, I discovered she often felt the same.  I didn’t realize she went through all the worries with me.  I thought I was covering it up, that she didn’t notice, but she did.  She paid attention to every single tone in my voice and look in my face.  She knew when I was sad and worried, therefore, she walked through the hard times with me, and I didn’t even realize.

So, reality hit me right in the face.  My dad did do everything he could, with the tools he had at the time, emotionally, financially, mentally and physically.  I did too.  Although my daughter felt every struggle growing up, I did try my very best to make her life the best it could be.  I suddenly realized we all have a different perspective of what we are going through at the time, and the memories change as we grow older.  But the memories we hold are the truth we see and feel.

I know I was the best mother I could possibly be.  Perfect, no, mistakes, many.  But I know my heart and intentions were true to the love and center of my life, my child.

As for my daughter, who now is a mother herself:  One day she will have some deep conversations with her daughter, and listen to her perspective of life growing up.  Some of your memories will be the same, some different.  She might say some things that hurt, but just remember... It’s perspective—doesn’t make yours wrong, just makes hers, her own. 

--Honest Yaya

**Writer's note: I give my mom a lot of credit for my love of writing. She would stay up late with me, helping to find the perfect words for oh so many writing assignments in high school. We were discussing what my next blog post should be and decided that it would be perfect for her to guest write a story this week and share her story of being a single mom from her perspective. I could think of no better idea! So meet your Honest Yaya (Sawyer's word for grandma).

 We've had our ups and we have had our downs but one thing has never changed and that is my overflowing love and appreciation for all she has sacrificed for me. This woman deserves the world and has helped shape me into the strong woman I am today. She is my absolute best friend and sidekick. 

I love you to the moon and back, and that is the Honest truth.

--Honest Momma