Co-parenting isn’t for the weak. I say that because it takes a certain kind of strength, the kind that often begins in what feels like weakness. A weakness that led to a relationship that, in the end, just wasn’t right for you. And that’s okay. That’s life sometimes.
We can sit and blame ourselves for not seeing the red flags sooner, but I truly believe everything happens for a reason. My beautiful son is living proof of that.
Breakups are hard, but when there’s a little human involved, they’re even harder. I always said I didn’t want to end up a single parent, not because I judged it, but because I had lived it. My mum raised me on her own, and I knew firsthand how hard and lonely it could be. I didn’t want a baby unless I was sure my partner would be by my side, every step of the way. I thought I had found that person… but I was wrong.
Without diving into the details, I can say this: I was drawn to that relationship for a reason. I accepted something that didn’t meet my needs because, deep down, I didn’t truly respect myself. I had low self-worth. I started recognising a pattern, I kept attracting emotionally distant men. The avoidant type. And I, with my anxious attachment style, would cling even tighter, bending myself for approval. A recipe for disaster.
Then came pregnancy and postpartum, the two Ps. The biggest, most transformative stages of a woman’s life. That’s when you need your partner to be your rock. But mine had crumbled. The emotional support I so desperately needed just wasn’t there. I felt like I was shouting and screaming to be seen and heard, only to be met with silence. I spiralled. I felt isolated. I was trying to navigate new motherhood largely alone.
And I know I’m not the only one. Some women are in relationships or even married, and still feel this lonely. Parenting while maintaining a relationship is hard. It takes effort, willingness, and commitment from both people. If one person checks out, or worse, becomes toxic, narcissistic, abusive, or manipulative, the foundation cracks. A mother will always put her child first. And when we sense our environment isn’t safe, emotionally, mentally, or physically, something inside us begins to detach. In my case, I no longer felt safe emotionally, and that was my turning point.
Once I moved into my own space, things slowly began to change. I had time and room to reflect. And although I initially blamed him for everything, I realised that accountability lives on both sides.
Co-parenting looks different for every family, but one thing remains the same: the wellbeing of the child comes first. It’s about putting differences aside so the child has a meaningful connection with both parents. Bonus points if both parents can be in the same space peacefully, although I know that’s not always possible.
Growing up, I only saw my dad on weekends. I knew how important a father figure was, and I wanted that for my son. Nearly two years in, we’ve found a rhythm that works. It hasn’t always been easy, and it won’t be perfect going forward, but therapy is helping me grow. It’s helping me heal the part of myself that thought I had to settle. I understand now that I can’t control the outcome, but I can control how I show up for my child.
So, if you’re deep in the trenches of co-parenting, here’s my advice:
If your child is happy, you’re doing it right. Just don’t forget to protect your own space and energy in the process.
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