I have been a single mom for 6 years. My kids were 4.5 and 7 years old when I separated from their father. At that time, I remember thinking “I can’t do this alone”. But here I am.

We all know that it takes a village to raise a family. The reason why a mother is without a village is irrelevant, the fact that she mothers without one makes her a superwoman. She works hard at finding a new village; people to call on for help, because she’ll need it.

Raising kiddos, in general, is universally challenging. Raising kiddos alone is somewhat even more taxing- mentally, emotionally and physically.  There is no sense sugar coating it. It involves stress, pressure and guilt. There’s little time to yourself, making the infamous self-care nearly impossible.

The struggles of single motherhood that I highlight in this blog pertain to single parenting full time, not co-parenting (which I know comes with its challenges, as well). I am just writing from experience as the primary parent, no shared custody.  The 24/7 mama bear.

Oh, the stress! How in the world can I be in two places at once? I can’t, of course, but both my sons play sports so there is often an overlap. While I would hate for one child to miss out on something, sometimes it is unavoidable. The good news is, I have learned to ASK FOR HELP. In my married life, I got used to living hours away (by car or plane) from any type of support system. In doing so, I set an unrealistic expectation of myself to be able to handle everything on my own. It’s not possible. So now, when someone in my village offers to help, I graciously say YES.

I have read about how there is a negative connotation associated with being a single mom. Feelings of being considered underprivileged (compared to married moms), as well as someone struggling to keep it all together appear to be common. Personally, I haven’t experienced any overt judgment (at least to my face), but I can tell you one thing, I am not short on pride when it comes to being a single mom. I play dual roles in my household daily and it is HARD AS HELL. Yet, I show up every single day. The truth is, I have good boys (I don’t mean perfect, I mean good humans) and the BIG part I played in that is not something that can be taken away from me. I own that shit. So yes, judge away.  

This struggle will keep you up at night. It’s the one that truly separates the married moms who often ‘feel like single moms’ to the real single mothers. Life is expensive for everyone, but even with a good income, single mothers often worry and may spend less freely than dual income homes. I would suggest single mama’s start a budget and stick to it, the best they can. Oh, and don’t bother trying to keep up with the Jones’, either.  Instead, worry about teaching your kids the value of money and how they can’t always get something simply because they want it. They’ll be better off for it.

As much as I love my boys’ sweet faces, sometimes I don’t want to see them for a few minutes (or hours) at a time. The truth is, I give myself time outs just for privacy. Thankfully, my kids are of the age now where I can run out for an hour or so and leave them home alone. It feels like FREEDOM, I tell you. I run, not walk, to the car.  Prior to this, I literally couldn’t go to the mailbox without them. I had to ask someone to watch them if I wanted to leave my front door. If I did leave the house without them, I would often have to factor in the cost of a babysitter. Is a $20 drop in Zumba class really worth $40-$50 for 60 minutes. Please circle back to struggle #3.

Mom guilt should be illegal. As if moms don’t have enough to do but feel guilty about everything. When my boys are with their father, I promise myself I will enjoy the break and not feel guilty about it. But it’s easier said than done.  I feel guilty for having fun without them or watching a movie they wanted to see. And then, of course, there are times when I don’t feel guilty (about enjoying my ME time) and then I feel guilty for not feeling guilty? It’s tiring being in our heads.

This sucks, pure and simple. Missing holidays is hard (except for Halloween, Meh). It’s only been the past 3 years where my ex-husband and I started alternating Christmases.  It feels so different to be kid- free during Christmas. There’s no magic, to me anyways. As relaxing and socially freeing as it can feel around the holidays, it hurts my heart. Especially when you see pics of smiling happy kids on social media. You can celebrate on another day of course, but it doesn’t feel the same.

People will tell you you’re ‘lucky’ to get a break from your kids. But not all single mom’s feel lucky when their child is with the other parent. It’s stressful giving up control, and sometimes contact.  You never know a single mom’s situation. While yes, it’s good time to have time to re-charge and to not have to take care of anyone but yourself, but it isn’t without its stress when your children aren’t physically with you.

Being a single mom is a never-ending game of Tag. And you’re always it! I have to keep up on the housework, homework, appointments, sports, work full time, make important decisions, discipline and provide guidance and provide emotional support etc. Oh and try to have a social life (hahaha), incorporate self care and exercise! I also have a boyfriend, so I want to make that relationship a priority as well. Did I mention there is no time to get sick? And when the kids get sick, I have to stay home with them (thank goodness for hybrid work arrangements). It’s a fun game, tag.

Being a single mom can make you feel very isolated and lonely, which takes a toll on your mental well-being. At the end of the day, it’s nice to kick your feet up and talk about how good, or bad, the day was with someone who lived the day along with you. When you don’t have that, it’s tough. Sometimes that connection, as a parent, makes you feel less overwhelmed. However, make your own connections outside of a partner! Reach out to other single mom’s through online single mom groups on Facebook, for example. It’s a place to vent or share exciting news! I promise, you’ll be supported. I personally attended a divorce/separation support group when my separation was fresh. Being around people who can relate to your struggles makes you feel, well, less alone.

Single moms are independent. We have no choice but to be! However, when it comes to some responsibilities, I don’t care to participate (but have no choice). For example, shoveling. I live in Canada, so we get snow pretty much 6 months of the year. Shoveling will be the bane of my existence. When a neighbor comes to help with a snowblower, I cry. Literally. I also buy gift cards as both a thank you and positive reinforcement. The same applies to car maintenance, or toilets. I don’t want anything to do with dealing with this stuff. But I have to be an adult, and I have to pull up my big girl (non-granny) panties and deal with it like the single mama bear that I am. AKA I call my boyfriend, my dad, or my brother (parts of my village). I delegate the tasks like a mother F-ing boss.

Who wants the world to know their personal business? NO ONE (says the blogger who is sharing intimate details of her life with strangers). I had been with my ex-husband for 20 years. More than half my life (at the time of separation). When we separated, and then divorced, removing my wedding ring felt like I was announcing to the world that I was now alone. My marriage had ‘failed’ (more on that thought later). It was a huge adjustment, and I was nervous, maybe even embarrassed. In my mind, it was a ‘single mom’ sign on my back. Then I had to decide if I wanted to keep my married surname or return to my maiden name.

You’ll never know the weight of this decision unless you have to make it. I didn’t want to have a different last name than my kids. I was afraid that they wouldn’t want that either. When entertaining the idea (after my divorce), my youngest son (8 at the time) asked if changing my name would mean I would no longer be his mom. *insert knife directly into my chest*.  Long story short (sort of), I did end up reverting to my maiden name because after all that had happened, that is who I felt I was. I felt it would help me move on, instead of holding on. I still don’t love having a different last name than my kids, but I don’t regret the decision.

For many reasons, I struggle with this movie. Mostly as a divorcee moreso than as a single mom. Watch it, you’ll understand. Bring tissues.

As single mom’s, our love life takes a back seat to our kids. We are also a package deal, so if someone wants to be with me, they must love my children too. But when you feel ready to date, it’s not an easy feat. There are so many implications and so many things to consider. So much so, I will have to write a separate post on it. I have so many dating stories to tell. Stay tuned.

There may be struggles with being a single parent, but there are also rewards. Many of them.  I don’t miss a thing! In fact, I have a front row seat to every moment of my son’s lives. I don’t miss a concert, a ball game, a parent teacher interview, birthday party or doctor’s appointment. They know that more than anyone else on this earth, that I am their biggest fan and always there. I know them the best.

I am, as I said before, a safe place for my boys. Their home. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.

I hate this question.

Honestly, I don’t know the answer. I tend to not make long term plans as I’ve learned that there are too many moving variables. Life can change in an instant so why focus on 5 years down the road when you can plan for today. Live for today.

This one is easy.

This year is going to be hellish. I’m not comfortable with change and it’s only been a year since the biggest change of my life, but I would tell myself to buckle up as there are more changes coming. These changes are not just for me and the kids, either, but for everyone. Globally.

No one could have predicted a Global Pandemic; you know the type of shit you see in the movies except without Matt Damon or Will Smith coming to the rescue. We will all have to wear masks in public. Playgrounds and schools will be closed. Streets will be empty, and I won’t see family or friends often. We will all live in bubbles. Literally. The government will dictate who we can and cannot see. I will tell myself that I will eat, sleep, live, work and play at home. Every day, I will be glued to the TV, waiting to hear the daily number of confirmed COVID 19 cases in the city, country and around the world. I will worry with every sniffle, cough and fart. I will wonder what is happening and more importantly, I’ll worry constantly whether we will all be ok.

I would tell my 2019 self that yes, we will all be ok. I would recommend more sleep and less overthinking. Take it a day at a time and don’t live in fear. There’s no need to wipe down groceries after I bring them home. I will not run out of toilet paper. Oh, and take advantage of curbside pickup, it’s super convenient (even in 2024)! I’d tell myself to smile at strangers. It’s a kind way to remind people that we are all in this together, despite how alone and scared we feel. There is something powerful in hearing a stranger tell you to ‘stay safe’. Pay it forward.

Slowly, as the year goes by, things will improve. l would tell myself that we move out of the basement apartment that suffocated me and my children and into a house we will call home, with a backyard and nice neighbors. This will help my children settle tremendously. I’d be excited to share the news that l meet a new man, and he will help me heal and restore my faith in many things, including love.

Oh, and I’d tell myself that the new size 4 figure that I have come to love won’t be sticking around. It turns out the 25 pounds lost from stress and tears will reappear this year into next. Others like to call it the Covid- 20, I called it regaining my appetite. Long story short, go shopping.

The words Covid-19 become somewhat less scary as time passes. You adjust to the new norm. Life carries on.

Girllllllllllll, get help!! (Ouch!) While I am busy in 2014 trying to convince myself that crying in the dark bathroom every morning is normal, it’s not. I have a 3-year-old and a 6-month-old, and am living in a fog, sleep deprived and irritable. And I’m not a single parent (yet) so I shouldn’t be doing this all on my own. It’s not all on you, Sonya. Why are you allowing it? You’re getting burnt out.

I would tell myself that I have Post-Partem depression and anxiety. It took a year for me to realize this. Sadly, it takes a few more years before I find the courage to ask for help. It’s presenting itself as a mood disorder, as well. It does that, the sneaky bastard. One day, I’ll cry over spilled milk, the next I’ll sing about it and clean it up without flinching. The kids don’t know what to think, or what Mom they’ll get on any given day. I would spell it out for myself, something is wrong. Please, get help today! Stop holding out hope that things will get better on their own. They won’t. As they say, nothing changes if nothing changes. And nothing was changing.

As a result of the post-partem fog I was living in for most of 2014, I have no idea how old my youngest son was when he first crawled, walked or said his first word. I would tell myself to let it go, it doesn’t matter! Who gives a shit! All that matters is he hit, hell he surpassed, all milestones. He’s smart, funny, fast and amazing.

I would advise myself that like my figure, the sleep deprivation goes away. However, that doesn’t happen until the next year. I’d tell myself that 2015 has a few perks, including me starting a job (outside the home). It was clear to see that being a stay-at-home mom was not for me. In some ways, this new job would save my life. I would tell myself about a new co-worker who becomes a close friend and lifeline through the divorce (oh, 4 year spoiler! We get divorced!). The office becomes a place to laugh, make connections and meet new people. I would tell myself that it feels good to serve a purpose in an environment where I feel like me again. Sonya, not Mommy.

I’d love to know what the 5 years in the future Sonya would say to me right now. Perhaps she would tell me that I’m still too hard on myself. Or that I need to think less, relax more and be proud of the woman I have become and the boys I have raised. I guess I’ll have to just keep taking things as they come, day by day, moment to moment if needed, and figure the next 5 years out for myself.

When I was younger, I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up. Career wise, adventure wise, or even family wise, I didn’t have it all mapped out. Now here I am, middle aged (ouch, that stings a little), and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

Twenty-year-old me never would have thought that 42-year-old me would be a divorced, single mother. That, for sure, wasn’t part of the plan. Not on the day I married my high school sweetheart, and not on the days I held my babies in my arms for the first time.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted kids, to be honest. I wasn’t ‘born to be a mom’. Growing up, I didn’t like kids, I hated babysitting, and I most certainly did not want to touch any pregnant bellies to feel any alien baby kicks. Hard pass. Nonetheless, here I am, 3 pregnancies and 2 babies later.  

I never imagined I’d be the ‘1’ in the 1 in 4 women who miscarry statistic.

I most certainly didn’t envision myself suffering from post partem depression. Or be crippled with anxiety, having my own mind turning me into someone I didn’t recognize. How about Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) or my most recent diagnosis of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)? As if my mental health needed more salt.

Before I even hit ‘middle age’, my life was very different than what I would have pictured for myself. I found myself introduced to the world of online dating after a 20-year relationship (more on that later), eventually finding a prince among the frogs. Quite literally, I started my life over from the ground up; leaving a small 2 bedroom basement apartment and buying a house for me and my two young sons. #PROUD. Oh and of course, I purchased my own Costco membership! Nothing makes you feel more like an adult than a Costco membership, not even divorce (ha!).

It would be rude of me to forget the physical changes that have accompanied middle age.  Wrinkles, for example, cellulite, perimenopause symptoms, and the inability to lose 5lbs with ease, like I could so many years ago when I wanted to fit into a dress for Friday night (when I could stay awake past 10pm).

Everything changed as I approached middle age. Life was making plans for me, it seemed, whether I liked it or not. Sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I am just along for the ride.

Join me for the ride as I talk about all the things that brought me to where I am today. And where I am going.

Be sure to buckle up. This is a safe place.