VONA mamas, yall give me so much courage. I became a single mother when my daughter was just a year and a half. It was a choice I made for me and for her. I have never regretted it, but still, this shit is hard. Just a few months after leaving my daughter’s father, I sent him a message confessing that I was having a hard time adjusting to being a single mom. I was having a hard time with everything, my four hour daily commute, an hour on the bus across the Bronx to upper Manhattan to drop her off at with my grandmother, then an hour on the train to get work. The reverse in the evenings. Every day. Five, sometimes six days a week. Then I had to feed her and bathe her and read to her and coddle her and give her love. By the time I put her down for the night I was utterly exhausted but I still had to bathe and get myself ready for the next day. I had to read and I had to write. I am a writer, after all. His response went something like, “The day you want to sign over the papers and give me custody, I’ll take her.” As if that was what I was saying. That was my entry into the shame imposed on us, single moms. We can’t say it’s hard. We can’t talk about it. We can’t cry over the pressure. We are supposed to grin and bear it. It’s no wonder so many snap, so many are depressed, so many take this pent up rage and resentment out on their kids. I’m not saying it’s right. I’m saying I understand, carajo. wp.me/pPpAB-yf
Posted on: Mon, 22 Sep 2014 19:31:08 +0000
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