For the first few months after I became a single parent, I tried to keep up with my childless friends. I remember being at a dinner party shortly after my son was born, with a bunch of childless 20-somethings enjoying wine and adult conversation. I awkwardly excused myself to breastfeed, which was not as chic 14 years ago as it is now. After his feeding, the baby had a blowout diaper so I excused myself from the party for a second time. Then, he began to scream inconsolably. I was frazzled, distraught and exhausted. The childless 20-somethings were polite but clearly uncomfortable. I left hurriedly and sobbed louder than the baby for the entire drive home. This tiny, needy human had ruined my first attempt to get my social life back on track. When I walked into my empty apartment that night, loneliness rushed me like a tidal wave. I was different now. My life was different now. My needs were different now. My idea of fun was different now. Everything was different, whether I liked it or not.
I continued to try to stay connected to my pre-baby friends, and a few of them made the same effort in return. But by the end of that first year, I was desperate for a community who could get into the trenches with me and know, really know, what it was like to be a single parent.
I attended a large church where I mostly knew no one. Sitting there alone on Sundays made me feel like I was the only single person in the world. Still, I was certain that somewhere in the crowd, there had to be more single parents who were probably feeling as isolated as I was. I began to ask around and, sure enough, there were more of us. We were at various ages and stages, but in no time at all, we formed a group and connected through shared experiences and desperate need. We linked arms and built a community.
Our merry little band of single moms eventually expanded to include single dads, as well. We formed babysitting co-ops, swapped clothes, met up for outings, established single parent car care days—and I even ended up with a roommate for a year, raising our sons together. Our community helped each other move, traveled together and participated in each other’s weddings. Most importantly, we showed up for one another. Showed up in real life ways. We learned how to ask for help. We learned that just because we were parenting without partners did not mean we had to do it alone.
Like all groups, that one had a lifespan and, after a few years, it dissolved. However, the friendships did not. I have several forever friendships as a result of the community we created out of desperate loneliness. They are a gift and a lifeline.
When it was over, I once again found myself fighting loneliness and isolation. Several of my close friends had married, and because I was still single, I was feeling back on the outside. I needed something new to fill the void.
I went online. No, not to date (that came later). I went online to connect with other single moms. I joined the Community section of BabyCenter.com, where I could interact with other single moms on chat boards. We posted about our struggles and victories as single mothers, and as we shared our lives, strong ties began to form. It wasn’t long before a small group of us that had connected especially well split off to form our own private group. In private, we could interact with each other on a deeper level, without fear that the public had access to our posts. We called ourselves the SWMU: Single Working Moms UNCENSORED.
It’s been six years since we first started our online group, and we have become deep, loyal, lifelong friends. We represent Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, Salt Lake City, San Francisco, Edinburgh, Scotland, and of course, Kansas City. Most of us have met at least once in person. We’ve had weddings and babies and new jobs and new relationships, break-ups and family crises. We’ve had parenting challenges and custody challenges and, occasionally, we have even had conflict amongst ourselves. But always, no matter what, we have supported each other through major life events and the daily grind. It is a community that sustained me when I had no one else who could and helped shape who I am as a mother and as a person.
Community always has been an essential piece to my makeup as a mother. I needed both the camaraderie and the counsel—two things co-parents often get from each other but single parents must intentionally seek out. I needed a village. I could not let my motherhood isolate me just because I didn’t have a partner. I found that when I surrounded myself with other single parents who could relate to my experiences, the hard times were bearable and the great times were celebrated like only single parents can celebrate. As long as I kept my tank full through relationships with other single moms, I had so much more bandwidth available to reinvest in my children.
Parenting is hard, single or otherwise, and I believe all parents can benefit from a community or support system. But single parenting can be a feast or famine endeavor, and often support and resources are in short supply. Finding and building a community might feel daunting, and perhaps you can’t even think about putting one more thing on your to-do list. I know the feeling. Start small, with a quick post on an online forum. Or check out the resources we’ve provided with this article. You need people in your life who can understand and respond to you as someone who has been there and gets it and is willing to lock arms with you.
Resources:
- BabyCenter: Community.BabyCenter.com
- MeetUp: MeetUp.com
- Making Lemonade Single Parent Network: MakingLemonade.com
- TheLifeOfASingleMom.com
Erin Jones works at the Kansas City Art Institute and is also a freelance writer and professional photographer. She is working on her first book – part memoir and part single parenting survival guide.