They used to whisper behind my back whenever I pushed the pram through the village to visit my grandparents. “There goes that Katie,” they’d murmur, “the one who got herself pregnant—old Rose and Stephen’s granddaughter. No husband in sight, you know. Such a disgrace.” Village gossip travelled quicker than a storm. It grated on me, but I held my tongue. Gran would always say, “Pay them no mind, love. They’re only nattering because they envy your courage to live as you please.”
The decision that changed everything
I was twenty-four when I found out I was expecting. The father—my boyfriend at the time—made it clear straight away he “wasn’t ready for all that.” I didn’t beg him to stay. I knew I could manage alone. In London, where I lived and worked, nobody much pried into my business. But the moment I came to the village for a bit of peace and to clear my head, it began. Neighbours whispered, the aunties on the bench outside the shop exchanged knowing glances, and some even asked outright, “Katie, where’s your husband then? Or is this one of those modern arrangements?”
I refused to explain myself. No, I wasn’t married. Yes, I chose to have the baby on my own. And no, I wasn’t ashamed. But villages have their own rules—everyone knows everyone’s business, and if you don’t fit their idea of a “proper life,” expect judgement. Thankfully, Gran and Grandad stood by me. “A child’s a blessing, the rest is nonsense,” Grandad would say, while Gran added, “So long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. People will always find summat to chatter about.”
A new life, new challenges
When my son was born, I returned to London. Life as a single mum wasn’t easy—work, nursery, bills, sleepless nights—but I never once regretted my choice. My little Alfie is my joy, my purpose. He’s growing up bright and curious, and I make sure he wants for nothing. I visit the village less now, but when I do, the same stares follow me. Only now, I’ve learned to brush them off. Sometimes, I even smile when someone sighs, “Oh, Katie, still on your own, then?”
Gran once told me, “Back in my day, we had our share of scandals too. I raised your mum without a husband, and we got by. Don’t let anyone’s words break you.” That became my motto. I realised I owed no one an explanation. My life is mine, and I’ll live it as I see fit.
What I’d tell others
I’m twenty-seven now, and I’m happy. Yes, it’s hard sometimes. Yes, I’m often tired. But I’m proud to raise my boy by myself. If you’ve ever faced judgement, remember—other people’s opinions are just noise. They don’t define you. Live for yourself and those you love. As for the gossip? It’ll die down soon enough when folks find something new to wag their tongues about.
If you’ve been through the same, I’d like to hear how you handled it. Or have you a clever way to answer nosy questions? Do share—I’d truly like to know.
