Or, to anyone it may concern ( or not, depending on what brought you to my blog), I send my greetings. This last week, actually, the last few weeks, have been likened to hell on earth. My coping mechanisms and my self created realities have seemed to have caught up with me, and I have been feeling rather.... strange, to say the least.
Thus, I have decided to start a blog, about my life, and more specifically my life regarding being a single mother, and raising my daughter all by myself.
So, let me tell you, my readers ( and hopefully I will get some readers, because that would be fantastic) a little about the beginning of my journey
I found out I was pregnant on June 21st, 2005. ( My birthday). I found out in a way that could have been less dramatic, but then again, I have always had a flair for theatrics. I was terrified, and rightfully so, I was on again-off again with my daughters father, and upon learning about my pregnancy, we were on again. I should have always known that we weren't good for one another, and when he asked me to marry him, I told him no. He did a lot of things, and fidelity was not really a strong suit of his, and getting treated poorly is not really a favorite activity of mine.
The fault was not all his, and the fault was certainly not all mine, but when I came home three weeks into fall semester 2006, when my daughter was still tiny, I had quite the surprise. I was certainly not expecting my home to bare, the television to be gone, and everything off of the walls. He left without telling me, and he left without saying goodbye. It hurt, and it hurt in a way that is difficult to explain as I certainly was not happy, his constant infidelity and lack of drive was demoralizing, and him leaving, as painful as it was to feel "not good enough" was more like a sigh of relief as opposed to a knife in the heart.
That is where I will leave the story of the beginning of my "singlemomness" for tonight, but not without saying this first. When I found I was pregnant I was told that being a mom meant that I would never "make it". I was urged to get an abortion, I was urged to give up the child for adoption, being told that without doing either of those things, I would never graduate from college, never have a career, and never be comfortably financially.
I think sometimes being told that I can't do something makes me want to do it all the more, and while I hope this doesn't sound overly self indulgent- I believe that I have been able to do something many haven't, and I hope and want other women who are in my shoes, or are moms who believe that they "CANT DO IT" to know that they can do anything, because I did.
The other day my daughter asked me what I wanted to do when I "grew up higher". I told her "change the world". I meant it. I mean it.
I will leave you all with this, a picture of my daughter not long after her father left us. Still smiling, because as Winston Churchill noted "never, ever, ever give up."
Best regards,
Rhian
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