I recently read about a single mother who shared her struggles, saying she couldn’t see a way out. Her words struck a chord in me, and I felt compelled to write about my own journeynot to judge anyone but to show that when you have children who depend on you, you can’t just sit around and wait for money to fall from the sky. No one ever handed me anything; every bit I have, Ive had to fight for myself.
I left home at sixteen, partly out of stubbornness and naivety, thinking I was grown-up enough to make it on my own and convinced that life with my boyfriend would be better. We moved into a tiny bedsitjust a kitchenette behind a thin partition in the sitting room, and the bathroom was outside in a little courtyard, not exactly the lap of luxury, but at least it was ours. Two years later, just after turning eighteen, I found out I was pregnant with my first child. At first, things seemed manageable. He drove a minicab and brought enough money home for groceries and rent. We never had extras, but at least we didnt go hungry.
When our son was nearly a year old, I noticed he was bringing home less money each week. There was always some excusea slow patch, too many cabs on the road, problems with the car. I believed him. Then I fell pregnant againthis time with my daughter. I was four months along when he just walked out. No warning. One day he popped by, grabbed some clothes, and left for another woman.
The hardest part wasnt just the heartbreak of abandonment. It was the whispers that followedthe neighbours, relatives, people from the estate. They said theyd seen him with her for ages, that shed been after him, that hed spent nights at her place. No one breathed a word to me while I was still with him. I found it all out when I was left alone, pregnant, and with a baby boy to look after.
He completely disappeared. He never once asked about the children, never sent moneycouldnt even be bothered to cover the cost of nappies. I remember sitting on the floor, tears pouring down my face that whole day, staring at the nearly empty fridge, almost out of milk, my next rent due, a second baby on the way, no baby clothes, no crib. I cried until it felt like there was nothing left. But the next morning, I got up and told myself I couldnt just sit still.
I started right there in that poky flat. I asked the local corner shop to let me get groceries on tick and began making jelly, trifles, little cupcakes. I took photos of them on my phone and posted them on my WhatsApp status and Instagram. I refused to pretendjust wrote the truth: Selling homemade desserts to buy nappies and milk. People started buying. Some out of pity, some because they genuinely liked them. With that money, I bought more groceries, saved for the rent, and managed to get by on the basics.
Soon I started doing homemade lunchesrice dishes, stews, casseroles, simple minced beef pies. There was a bloke from the estate whod deliver for me on his motorbike, and I paid him by the run. Id get up at 5 a.m. to cook, my belly getting bigger every day, with my little boy at my side. Some mornings, I was so tired Id just collapse into a chair and weep quietly. But every day, I turned the stove back on and kept going.
I saved every single pound I could. As my due date crept closer, my mum rang and told me to come stay with them, so I didnt have to be alone. Thats where my daughter was born. Since then, my parents have been my rock. They dont financially support me, but they keep me going, helping with the children whenever I have orders to fill.
Today, my son is six. My daughter is growing up fast. My mum and I have started a tiny cake business together. Its not a big company, just a small kitchen where we make birthday cakes, dessert tables, and cater for the odd event here and there. Were hardly well-off, but I never go to bed hungry, and I never have to worry about my children having nothing to eat the next day.
I know how much it hurts when a man leaves a woman alone to raise their children. Its not fair. But Ive also learnt you cant wait around for someone to rescue you. Nobody swooped in to save me. When youre a mum, you simply dont have the luxury of giving up.
