Some days, I feel like life handed me the role of a tightrope walker and forgot to give me a safety net. There’s me, balancing single motherhood in one hand, juggling the demands of a career in the other, and somehow still carrying the unspoken responsibilities that come with being the eldest daughter. It’s a lot. But if life has taught me anything, it’s that I can either cry over the weight of it all or laugh while carrying it. Most days, I choose laughter (and coffee).
Motherhood: The Marathon You Didn’t Train For
Being a single mom is a beautiful, chaotic, never-ending marathon. No one warns you that toddlers come with energy levels NASA should study. My daughter, my sunshine and my whirlwind, reminds me daily why I push so hard. She’s the reason I wake up early, even when the bed calls me back, and the reason I sometimes stay up late Googling “how to deal with toddler tantrums.”
There’s joy in the small wins—when she finally sleeps on time or learns a new word, and I realize I’m shaping a whole human being. But let’s not romanticize it, single parenting is also about making hard calls, like choosing between buying her a new toy she will forget about in a few weeks or saving for her next pair of shoes. It’s a tightrope, and falling off isn’t an option.
Then there’s work—the thing that pays the bills, keeps me sane, and sometimes drives me crazy. Being a career woman means showing up, giving your best, and pretending you have it all together. It means making that presentation sparkle, even though you were up all night nursing a feverish child.
There’s an unspoken pressure to prove that single motherhood isn’t a limitation. I’m constantly navigating expectations: being the dependable colleague, the innovative thinker, and the woman who can handle it all with grace. But let’s be honest, sometimes grace looks like me crying over spreadsheets at midnight.
The Eldest Daughter Chronicles
Now, sprinkle in the eldest daughter duties. If you know, you know. Eldest daughters are often the uncelebrated glue that holds families together.
There’s this unspoken expectation to “be there” for everyone—to check in on mom, guide younger siblings, and step up when family crises arise. And while I wouldn’t trade my family for anything, there are days when I wish I could press pause and just be.
The Guilt That Never Leaves
Balancing these roles means guilt becomes a constant companion. When I’m working late, I feel guilty about not spending enough time with my daughter. When I’m home, I worry if I’m giving my career the focus it deserves. And when I prioritize either, I feel like I’m not showing up enough for my family.
It’s a cycle I’m learning to break—not by doing more, but by accepting that I can’t do it all.
Finding the Balance (Or at Least Trying)
There’s no magic formula for balancing single motherhood, a career, and family responsibilities. But I’ve learned a few things along the way:
- Ask for Help: Superwoman is a myth. Leaning on family, friends, or even colleagues doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human.
- Prioritize Ruthlessly: Some things can wait, and others can’t. Learning to say no has been a game-changer.
- Celebrate Small Wins: Made it through the week without losing your sanity? Celebrate. Your child ate all their veggies? Break out the chocolate.
- Make Time for Yourself: Even if it’s just 10 minutes with a book or dancing in the kitchen while dinner cooks. You can’t pour from an empty cup.
For the longest time, I thought success meant ticking all the boxes: a spotless house, a thriving career, a perfectly-behaved child, and a happy extended family. Now, I know success looks different for everyone. For me, it’s the giggles at bedtime, the satisfaction of completing a challenging project, and the moments when my family genuinely feels supported.
Success isn’t about doing it all; it’s about doing what matters most.
To Every Woman Wearing Multiple Hats
To every single mom, career woman, eldest daughter, or anyone carrying more than their fair share—know this: you are enough. You are doing the best you can, and that’s more than enough.
Some days, the balancing act feels impossible. But remember, even tightrope walkers get wobbly. The trick is to keep moving forward. And when you do fall, because let’s face it, we all do, get up, dust yourself off, and try again.
Here’s to the messy, beautiful, chaotic life we’re navigating—one step at a time.
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