Single Mom Diaries | A Revelation

I fancy myself as pretty brave—fearless, except when it comes to ghosts and anything higher than a step stool. Ace my exams? Check. Snag the perfect guy? Piece of cake! Skyrocket my career? Ta-da! Just needed to land in a good university, hit the books like a nerd, and voilà, magic would happen. Chasing my dream was my top mission—nothing would dare stand between me and that dream, except maybe a ghost on a tall ladder.

Life was a breeze, or so the books, TV shows, and those "been-there-done-that" stories led me to believe. Then, surprise—motherhood crashed the party and tossed all my plans straight out the window. All my carefully crafted plans, skills, talents, dreams, degrees—poof! Gone. Motherhood just waltzed in, flashed me a cheeky middle finger, not out of spite, but more like a playful "gotcha!" And wow, did it sting. If motherhood has taught me anything, it's that life can be as reliable as a house of cards.

Now, as a single mother of a soon-to-be teen, I find that my bravery has taken on a new form—it's a different kind of fear, one that comes with a side of wisdom. Gone are the days of blissful ignorance; these days, I’m too well-acquainted with the hard truths of life. I’ve learned that we can pour our hearts into something and still watch it slip through our fingers, like sand on a windy beach. Some days, people clock out feeling utterly deflated, as if the universe conspired to keep them from success, and the unsettling reality is that they often have no control over it.

Late last year, I made a bold decision to confront one of my deepest fears: changing careers. It was a journey filled with uncertainty, but I chose to embrace bravery, knowing that the stakes were higher than ever. As a single mother, the complexities of this transition loomed large; I felt as though I had so much more to lose. My son, my greatest motivation, was watching my every move, and there were moments when I questioned whether to forge ahead or retreat.

As parents, the journey of chasing dreams is both a profound and complex one. How far do we venture in pursuit of our own aspirations? Do we even muster the courage to try, or do we find ourselves anchored in the comfort of the familiar, where safety wraps around us like a warm blanket? We often grapple with the question of whether this hesitation stems from good fear, the kind that protects us, or bad fear, the kind that holds us back.

Every day, we strive to teach our children the value of bravery, to instill in them the belief that they can conquer the world and reach for the stars. But as we encourage them to chase their dreams, we must also reflect: does this same spirit of courage apply to us? Are we living the lessons we impart, or have we allowed our own dreams to fade into the background?

When does the act of dreaming cease for parents? Is it when the responsibilities of parenthood take precedence?

~smy