Single Mom and Accountability
Single Mom Isn’t a Limitation. It’s a Launchpad.
Two days ago, I posted a photo on social media with a caption that read:
“Being a single mom isn’t a reason to stay stuck. Stop using it as one.”
That post exploded.
But what came from it—was something I’ll never forget:
One of the most powerful conversations I’ve ever had with my teenage son.
He read the post and said, “That’s right.”
Then, after reading some of the comments from an especially offended woman, he added:
"Why don’t you just tell her everything you do? Maybe if she understood, she’d stop."
I smiled. “People on warpaths rarely stop to listen to reason. I choose to spend my energy elsewhere.”
But later that night, we talked more. And what unfolded is something I believe every parent—every person—needs to hear.
For context, here’s the original post:
In 2010, my kids’ dad and I separated.
In 2018, I remarried.
In the years between, I went from a stay-at-home mom with almost no resume...
To working three jobs.
Running two businesses.
Feeding my kids when there was no food.
Selling furniture to pay for groceries.
Working every single day for years—no breaks, no vacations.
I chose not to go on welfare. That was my choice—not a judgment of anyone else's.
Over time, I built classes, workshops, and products. And repeatedly, the group that messaged me asking for free access—was single moms.
Always with the same reason:
"Because I'm a single mom."
So let me say this, from love and lived experience:
Being a single mom is not a reason. It’s not an excuse. It’s not a limitation.
It’s okay to say:
“It’s not in my budget right now.”
“I’m working with my finances.”
“I’ll plan for this next year.”
But please, don’t sell yourself short by shrinking behind a label.
Don’t hand your power to a title.
When we use "single mom" as a reason we can't—our kids feel it.
And we create a poverty mindset that clings.
Not just to our wallets—but to our worth.
I raised my kids on one-third of the income I had when I was married.
And during that time:
I traveled the world.
Trained in Shamanism, Reiki, and Access Consciousness.
Paid off my car.
Saved a year’s income.
Bought a home.
Bought a car in cash (okay, a cheap car—but still!).
Built a life we could afford.
Not glamorous. But ours.
I don’t share this to brag.
I share it because it matters. Because mindset matters.
Because being a single mom didn’t break me. It built me.
My children lived that journey with me.
They saw it all:
The repo’d car.
The empty pantry.
The house foreclosed on.
The abusive boyfriend.
The tears cried quietly in the dark.
My exhaustion, my snapping, my shame.
And they never stopped loving me.
They ate ramen noodles on the floor with me when we had no couch—and didn’t complain once.
They are the reason I never gave up.
They are my heroes.
So that night, I sat with my 16-year-old son, who’s nearly a grown man now, and I told him:
“I want you to know—our struggle wasn’t because I had you.
It wasn’t because I was a single mom.It was because I didn’t prepare.
I didn’t have the education, the savings, or the skills I needed—because I assumed I’d always be married.
I left our future in someone else’s hands.
And when things fell apart, I had no foundation to stand on.That wasn’t your dad’s fault. He thought we’d last too.
But it was my responsibility. And now I know better.”
He listened quietly, sitting at the edge of my bed. I could see the child he was and the man he's becoming, all at once.
“When your baby sibling is born, you’ll see how hard it is to care for a child.
Even when I wasn’t working outside the home—I worked.
But I didn’t prepare for the day I might be the sole provider.And no matter the reason—divorce, death, disability, or just a partner following their dream—every person should be able to care for themselves and their kids.
That’s not gendered. That’s human.”
He nodded.
I said, “I hope the one thing I give you is an example. Not to follow my footsteps blindly—but to walk with more wisdom.”
He hugged me tight—he’s kind of a big guy—and said,
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Son.”
Now let me be clear: I know my words make some people uncomfortable.
That’s not my intention.
But I also know my truth matters.
I believe, with everything in me, that where you come from, your trauma, your education, your past—none of it gets to decide your future.
The term Single Mom is not a life sentence.
It is not a scarlet letter.
It is not why you’re stuck.
And if we let it be—if we keep saying, “Because I’m a single mom…”—
We’re also saying someone else is to blame.
And therefore someone else holds the power to fix it.
No.
If I’m broke, if I’m tired, if I’m stuck—that’s mine to own.
Which means it’s mine to change.
Single Mom means:
Tenacity. Courage. Boldness. Endurance. Humility. Trust. Surrender.
It does not mean:
Helpless. Hopeless. Or less than.
You decide what the label means for you.
As for me?
I don’t call myself a single mom much anymore.
I prefer:
“I’m the head of my household.”
Because I am.
And if you are too—then own it.
You got this.
If you’re a single mom reading this: I’m cheering you on.
You are not your circumstances.
You are not your label.
You are powerful beyond measure.
You can build your life—your way.
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