Trusting That the Good Stuff Sticks.

“We’ve all had bad days as parents. I’ve had some doozies, and you will too. All you can do as a parent is try to pack the days with as much good stuff as possible and hope it outweighs the bad. You hope that the good stuff sticks.”

When the Village Isn’t Village-ing: Solo Parenting Struggles

 

Something I’ve become increasingly aware of since becoming a mum is just how important it is to have a village around you. It’s something I always knew in theory, but this month has reminded me of it more than ever.

May has been hard.

Mostly because my son and I have both been unwell twice this month, bugs he’s caught and lovingly passed on to me, and both times his dad has been away. I’m very lucky in the sense that his dad is present, involved, and has our son on weekends and during school holidays. But it was sod’s law that at the beginning of the month, while he was away on a residential trip, my son and I both came down with stomach viruses.

And honestly? Parenting while you’re both ill is one of the hardest parts of motherhood.

You still have to keep going when your body is begging you not to. There’s no tapping out, no duvet days, no chance to properly rest and recover. You still have to parent through the exhaustion, the sickness, the lack of sleep, the lack of energy, and sometimes, the lack of support.

As the primary parent, I can’t just disappear for a few days to recover. I can’t shut down, stay in bed, and focus only on getting better. My son still needs me, regardless of how I’m feeling.

This month has also highlighted how difficult it can be trying to balance solo parenting with being a trainee counsellor. Juggling client work, childcare, coursework, therapy, and supervision has felt overwhelming at times. And if I’m honest, it’s brought up a lot of anxiety about the future.

Because I’m becoming increasingly aware that I don’t really have a safety net. I don’t have the “village” people always talk about.

And I know I’m not alone in that.

I think about all the solo, single, and primary parents out there and genuinely wonder how they’re doing it. If you have grandparents or family members you can fall back on, that’s amazing. For me, it’s not always possible and a little more complicated than that.

And then I think about the mothers doing this entirely alone, without involved fathers at all. How do they cope? Honestly.

This week, in particular, has felt incredibly hard.

What started as such a high celebrating my son’s third birthday party on Monday, ended with me reaching Friday completely at the end of my tether, losing my patience more than once, and feeling consumed by exhaustion and guilt. At the same time, having to sit down, take a few deep breaths to re-centre myself, repair with my son, and then ready myself to see my clients on the very same day. 

My son was already a little run down by the time his dad brought him back Monday morning, because he’d had a full weekend of parties there too. Then we hosted his birthday party on Monday, which was lovely but full-on. That night, I barely slept because he was coughing constantly.

By Tuesday, I was exhausted. But because it was half term and his dad was away for the week, I still had to show up. There was no option not to.

And once again, I was reminded that I don’t really have a village.

This is it. Me, struggling through.

6am wake-ups to 8pm bedtimes.
No downtime.
No space to breathe.
No gym.
No writing.
No time to refill my own cup.

And maybe that’s the part I’m finally having to accept: something has to change.

I need to remove the guilt around needing support.

Maybe that looks like finally finding a trusted childminder or babysitter for the days when I’m struggling or unwell. Maybe it means increasing my son’s preschool days so I can have more breathing room to work, study, rest, or simply exist as a human being outside of motherhood for a few hours.

Because trying to fully show up for him, while also trying to show up for myself, my future career, my coursework, my clients, therapy, and supervision is starting to feel unsustainable.

And maybe asking for more support doesn’t make me weak.
Maybe it makes me honest.

Maybe this is what motherhood really is sometimes:
loving your child deeply while simultaneously realising you were never meant to do all of this completely alone.

I hope there are other mothers out there that can recognise when they need help. Who are kind enough to themselves to bypass the guilt that comes with not being able to hold it all. To admit that it’s really bloody hard trying to do it all by yourself. 

Raising children was never meant to be a one person job. 

The Mum Guilt Phenomenon.

Something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is how difficult it is to separate myself from mum guilt. No matter how much I try, there always seems to be another reason to feel like I’m not doing enough.

The Invisible Work of Co-Parenting After Emotional Abuse.

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed a growing gap between many women and the men they are trying to co-parent or build lives with. 

How Parenting Led to Re-Parenting Myself.

Parenthood didn’t just make me a mother.

It made me meet myself.

I’m two years from 40, a single mother to a toddler, and training to become a counsellor. Life feels radically different from my 20s and 30s, and yet, in many ways, I’m still learning the same lessons. Only now, I’m learning them through my son.

I wonder if wisdom really comes with age, or if other factors are at play. Could it be an innate change, where becoming a parent automatically makes you more self-aware? Or is it that training to be a counsellor has helped me gradually see myself and other people’s behaviours in a more complex way? Either way, it’s a bittersweet stage of my life.

Life now is extremely different from my 20s and 30s. Back then, I was stuck in a cycle, repeating negative patterns, extremely self-conscious, and very critical of myself. Somewhere along the way, something shifted. I do believe age has played a role, and another significant influence has been personal therapy. However, the biggest impact on my growth is, without a doubt, becoming a mother. Nothing can make you more resilient than that.

Living in the moment

I am learning daily from my son. I’m learning to take life less seriously and to be present in the moment. The other day, we were on the bus, and I just grabbed him out of his buggy and carried him to the top deck. He had no idea the top deck even existed. Something so simple was like discovering another world. We sat together at the front, as if we were driving the bus, just like my sister and I would do when we were little. That simple moment took me straight back to a childhood memory, and I enjoyed it just as much as my son did.

People-pleasing

My son is teaching me how to stop being such a people-pleaser. This one is massive. He knows what he likes and what he doesn’t, and I fully support that. I want to foster this quality in him as much as I can, which challenges me to do the same. For example, if something doesn’t sit right with me, I’m learning to say it, even if it makes someone uncomfortable. Because guess what? I’m not responsible for how other people feel. That’s their problem, not mine. I speak up more, not in a mean way, but with a diplomatic, assertive approach. I find that this earns me more respect.

Boundaries

Don’t cross my boundaries! If I don’t want someone in my life, they won’t be in it. If I don’t like the way someone treats me, I’ll speak up. If I don’t like the way someone treats my son, they’ll hear about it. If I don’t want to do something, it’s a no from me. Boundaries are essential for protecting our peace. Without peace, I’m irritable, and if I’m irritable, I’m not being my best self. I also have boundaries with my son. If I don’t feel like jumping on the trampoline one day, I say, “Mummy isn’t feeling it today.” He learns through my behaviour.

Asking for help

There shouldn’t be an expectation placed on mothers that they can do it all. I’ve had to learn the hard way that asking for help isn’t a form of failure, it’s a form of self-care. It’s also about loosening control and trusting that others want to help me. Once I shifted my mindset, it became much easier to do. Trying to do it all only sets me up to fail by placing unrealistic expectations on myself. The more relaxed, recharged, and secure I feel, the more my son benefits too.

Relational functioning

There has been significant growth in the way I relate to people, especially in intimate relationships. Through therapy and training, I realised that I was stuck in a pattern of accepting connection based on availability rather than actively choosing partners. This was linked to early attachment experiences characterised by emotional inconsistency and a lack of safety. As a result, being chosen felt more regulating than exercising agency, and attention was unconsciously associated with security.

Now, I can be confidently clear about what I want, trusting that I don’t need to chase it. I’ve learnt to accept people as they are rather than feeling compelled to reassure, rescue, or over-explain in response to emotional unavailability. I’ve shifted from anxious attachment to being grounded in self-respect and emotional safety.

Perhaps wisdom doesn’t come with age alone, it comes with love, patience, and the courage to face yourself. In parenting my son, I’ve found a mirror for my own growth, and with every moment, I’m learning to parent the most important person in my life: me.

Parenting didn’t save me.

Awareness did.

Parenting simply opened the door.