MENTAL HEALTH | RELATIONSHIPS
How To Fail As a Married Single Mom Like Me
Crack and crumble your way to happiness
I never expected to see my life unfold on the pages of the New York Post. The details were off, but the theme was spot on.
Instead of shame, a sense of survival and self-pride warmly washed into my soul as I read the story. An overwhelming need to shout out to my sisters from the rooftop grew wings.
“You’re not alone, and you can do this! You are worthy. You are not insane. Follow your dreams!”
Heed the echoing words from the healed, and firmly grab onto the outstretched hand of support. Many of us emerged from unspeakable wreckage to thrive and assist others.
“Happy Birthday! Today is your day to do anything you want — don’t touch laundry or dishes or get near the vacuum.”
“All that stuff can wait. It will still be there tomorrow!”
Initially, laughter erupted at the absurdity of my husband’s silly statement. Year after tiresome year, the words rolled off his tongue disguised as a new epiphany. Even the kids detected staleness after the first few times. The resulting laughter diminished into forced states of expected responses.
