A Single Mom's Perspective: A Journey of Growth
The teenage years hit different, don’t they? They’re like an emotional rollercoaster with no seatbelt, chaos, raw emotions, and questions we don’t even have the words for yet. Looking back at my own teenage self, I see a girl tangled up in love, loss, confusion, and that desperate hunger to belong somewhere, to be someone.
But now? Now I’m on the other side. A single mom with a son who’s just hit double digits, standing on the edge of those very same years. I’m no longer just the teenager trying to survive it all. I’m the mother preparing him for the storm. And whew, that’s a weight you feel in your bones.
The Secret Language of Journals ✍️
There’s something sacred about the words we spill into journals. The confessions we never say out loud. Those pages hold the 2 AM ugly cries, the heartbreak, the rage at the world, the desperate need to belong. But tucked between the pain, there are sparks, resilience, tiny glimmers of growth.
I found one of my old journals recently. A time capsule of my teenage years. And let me tell you, it hit me in the heart, hard.
The Ache of Loss 💔
Grief has a way of carving deep into your bones. When you lose someone who felt like home, it leaves you untethered, like you’re drifting without an anchor. My journal was filled with questions: Why didn’t I say more? Why wasn’t I there enough?
That’s the cruel trick of loss. It always feels like it steals time, even when you didn’t realize the clock was ticking.
Now, as a mom, I carry those questions differently. How do I prepare my son for the fact that life will hand him loss, too? How do I teach him that grief can reshape you, but it doesn’t have to break you?
Family Ties (and Knots)
Family. The word alone can make your chest feel heavy. It’s love, yes—but also frustration, distance, misunderstandings, and that desperate craving to be seen. As teens, we idolize or resent our parents (sometimes in the very same breath). My journal reflected that tug-of-war clearly.
Now, when I look at my son, I wonder: How does he see me? Does he feel heard? Supported? Safe enough to come to me when life gets messy?
Because I know one thing for sure—I never want him to feel invisible under my roof.
That Wild Hunger for Freedom 🚲✨
If you’ve been a teenager, you know it, the urge to break free. Out of the house, out of the rules, out of the box someone else put you in. I remember feeling trapped, desperate to make my own choices, even if they were messy. Independence is terrifying, but you know what’s worse? Feeling like you don’t get a say in your own life.
Now, I see that spark in my son. The way he wants to make his own decisions, test his wings. And oh, the mama-bear in me wants to shield him from every bad choice. But I know I can’t. My job isn’t to clip his wings; it’s to make sure he knows that no matter where he flies, he always has a safe place to land.
The Forever Question: Who Am I? 🌙
The teenage years are messy because they’re the middle. The world starts demanding answers about who we are, while we’re still fumbling around in the dark.
That question—Who am I? haunted me then. And let’s be real, it still sneaks up on me now. Because identity isn’t a one-time discovery. It’s an unfolding story, a thousand tiny choices, mistakes, and miracles that shape us along the way.
And now, I watch my son standing at the doorway of his own story. I see the flickers of confidence, the doubts, the frustrations, the new questions forming in his eyes. It’s like watching my past and his future meet in real time.
The Conversation We All Need
These reflections aren’t just mine. They belong to anyone who’s ever felt lost, misunderstood, or “too much” for the world around them. They belong to every parent who lies awake at night, wondering if they’re doing enough.
Growing up isn’t a straight line. It’s stumbles, bruises, breakthroughs, and those little victories that don’t look like much until you look back and realize how far you’ve come.
So, let me ask you: What’s one lesson from your teenage years you wish you had known then?
Drop your story. Share your wisdom. Let’s make this a conversation, because if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: none of us are really alone in this journey.
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