Being a single mom was not something I envisioned for myself when I was a kid. I pictured what most kids do; finding a great partner, getting married, buying a house, then having kids. However, the universe knew I needed something different, a different path to help me grow into the person I was meant to be. And sometimes Ms. universe has to be a real bitch to get her point across to us stubborn people.

When I (finally) left my abusive relationship and moved in with my dad, I was pretty much starting over. I hadn’t worked in a year because I stayed home with my daughter after she was born. I didn’t have my own car. And I only had about $200 to my name. Not nearly enough to support myself and a kid. I was so fortunate that I had a place to go and have minimal expenses. My dad even let me borrow one of his two vehicles until I was able to save enough money to buy my own car. But it still wasn’t easy. I now had to find a job. I had to find childcare, that I couldn’t afford, so I could work that job; the job I needed to buy the groceries and baby products and gas for my dads truck I was driving. It was so overwhelming.

Thankfully I was able to go back to work at this pizzeria I worked at in high school. It wasn’t my favorite place to be and some days I would feel like I a failure, like I was just going backwards in life. But it was a paying job and they paid fairly well and were somewhat flexible with me if I needed to come in late or leave early to get my kid. So it worked. And as far as child care, my ex had a grandmother who was retired that lived somewhat local and she offered to watch my daughter during the day. Again, not exactly my favorite situation as I’ve had some issues with the family over the years. But at the time I thought that was my only option so I took it. Later I found out that depending on your situation and your income, the state has programs where they help pay for childcare. So I filled out all the Department of Child and Family Services paperwork that I needed and was approved. They even give you a list of places that they work with so I could choose one that I liked and that was close to home.

I was still doing all of the “parent” things on my own though. From changing diapers and giving baths to feeding and playing and bedtime. There were meltdowns and the terrible-two’s stage. Doctor’s appointments and sick days with viruses and throw-up. My ex wasn’t around much. I tried to work out him taking her every other weekend but he’d have to cancel most of the time with some excuse. He wasn’t exactly paying child support either. I think within a 6 year span I got a total of about $3,000 from him, which was nothing. There was always an excuse for that too. After a couple years I learned the truth; he started using drugs when he moved back to NY and therefore had no money to give me.

I did all I could to take care of my daughter and do whatever I needed to do to make sure we had what we needed. I never did take the time to take care of me though. When you’re living in that kind of survival mode, doing things to take care of yourself doesn’t even cross your mind. There’s not enough time or energy for that too, on top of everything else. And as a result my mental health declined. I was always stressed, I had so much anxiety, I was still depressed. I was crying myself to sleep most nights. I was so lonely. I didn’t know anyone that had been through a similar situation or suffered any kind of abuse or had to be a single parent; which made me feel even more alone. Some days I wished that I could just leave everything and start over somewhere by myself. Some days I just wanted a brand new life and didn’t want anyone to be able to find me. I felt like nobody really knew what I was going through or what I had to deal with or the amount of pressure and responsibility I was under. I just wanted to relate to someone that understood.

There came a point where I didn’t want to live every day feeling like that anymore. I wanted to be happier, I wanted to enjoy my life and my daughter. I knew I had to do something for myself. So I looked into therapy. It took me a little bit, some trial and error, to find a therapist that I liked and worked well with but eventually I did. And since seeing her I feel like I have changed and grown so much. She helped me be more gracious with myself. I never felt like I was moving forward or improving, I always felt stuck. She helped me see that I had already come so far from where I started, I just had to look more closely. Even one little tiny step was a movement forward and I needed to start giving myself credit for all of it. She even suggested I try anti-depressants. I was very skeptical for a while at first. I never liked the idea of taking medications, I hardly even took Tylenol or Motrin. But I knew I still needed a little more help so I found a psychiatrist. I saw and felt such a difference in myself after that. I was enjoying the little things more and I was way less irritable and just overall happier. I even got myself to go out on some dates and met the wonderful man I’m with now. I don’t know how long I’ll stay on them, it’s been about two years now. But it was something I needed in that season of my life and I’m glad I stopped holding myself back.

When they say it takes a village, it really does. I was so so fortunate to have the family that I have. Everyone helped where they could. My parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. They gave me and that little girl so much love and support. After a while (and with therapy) I started seeing that I actually wasn’t alone. I may not have known anyone that could relate to some of the things I had to go through and deal with but we all have felt similar feelings for one reason or another. And I realized that no matter how I was feeling, I always had somewhere to go. I always had someone to call, someone to help care for my daughter, someone to show up for my daughter and show up for me. And I finally stopped taking that for granted.