The Stories We Tell - Single Mom Before Insta Mom

This is, “The Stories We Tell,” a weekly series of true accounts in all things motherhood. These 100% vulnerable, raw and ferociously honest tales are from the LA-based storytelling event, Mothers Unleashed. This is Sheila’s story about being a single mother before the era of Instagram-worthy, motherhood empowerment… and how she grapples with a new age of her life - one where her children need her less, and she can turn her energy inward.

After years of hearing things like, “I don’t know how you do it, I can barely take care of myself,” more of my peers are FINALLY having babies, but like, the “right” way: career, love, savings, often marriage, and THEN comes the baby in the baby carriage. My social media feed is full of the most glamorous baby bumps, freed nursing nipples, and memes about losing your friends, your body, your mind and your libido… only, I didn’t LOSE anything when I became a mother, or I didn’t know it, because I didn’t have anything yet.

I was 19 when I got pregnant with my oldest daughter. She was a condom malfunction on what should have remained a one-night stand (a whole other crazy story) on my first night out after returning home to my mother’s from another whole other crazy story. By this time, I had lived enough craziness for one Lifetime movie and an after school special, so becoming a mother actually seemed like a more peaceful adventure. The women in my family are quite open about sex and the results of it, and being the oldest of eight, the logistics of a baby weren’t foreign: pregnancy, pushing a melon out of your hoo-ha, diapers, car seats, crying, teaching, spit up, keeping it alive… None of this scared me.

I assure you, I am not about to tell you the usual tale of a struggling martyr, single mother. I mean, I was 7 months pregnant and dancing in a gogo booth during spring break in Rosarito just like any other 19-year-old. My tribe was deep and mighty, and everyone wanted baby time, so I was able to take up hobbies and even travel like any other 24-year-old. I made unconventional choices in my work that allowed me the time to get my bachelors degree like any other... 30-year-old. I had my share of financial fuck-ups and bad boyfriends just like every other young woman, but I had a child in tow and the stakes were higher. When asked, “Oh my god, how do you do it?” My response has always been, “How do you not? You just do it.” What I’m trying to say is that I did all my growing up as a mom, and it felt natural. Maybe not normal, definitely not easy... but natural… until now.

In 2011, when my second daughter was about 5 months old, Beyonce announced her first pregnancy onstage during the MTV Music Awards. I think it was the first time she’d worn pants in years. My incredibly unfeminist thought was, “Oh, cool, now she’ll take a break”... but to be fair, if you recall, at that point, she was even pantless selling us televisions. This is not what happened. Instead, she showed the world that pregnancy and motherhood could be elegant, sexy, and even cool. She continued to work hard, and as soon as she dropped that baby bump, she went right back to not wearing pants. The world ate it up, and suddenly the rules around motherhood began to change. 

In this same time frame, a little smartphone app called Instagram was released. This social media platform has been an effective vehicle for so many visibility movements, and motherhood is no different. From taking the censors off childbirth and breastfeeding, to posts about allowing your own self care to take the front seat to your kids sometimes, an alternative view of motherhood is beginning to take shape. You can scroll on a mommy’s feed and see a photo of her ass right next to a photo of her cuddling her kid … and while part of me is like, “it’s about time y’all are catching up,” there is another part of me that feels something that I really haven’t been able to put my finger on… but it borders on bitter.

I’m not hating, really… the empowerment is awesome. I love it. We may not have been June Cleaver through these modern years, but society has not been kind to moms trying to keep their identity, not even for celebrities. (Look what happened to Britney!) I wonder if she would have suffered the same fate if Blue Ivy and InstaTherapy had come first. But even now, we are still talking about women who had their lives in some order before pregnancy. When I got pregnant, I didn’t have a job, a driver’s license, my own place, a higher education, a loving, stable partner, a clear path, or even an idea of what I was going to do with my life.

Recently, I was watching Rhythm and Flow on Netflix, and there was a moment when Cardi B said to a contestant something like “she feels her story, as a mother”... And I found myself screaming at the television that her motherhood story is nothing like that contestant’s. Cardi B became a mother AFTER reaching her goal… it just isn’t the same as hustling, trying to make something out of nothing, while also making sure that the human you created is fed, clothed, housed, cared for, and supported in their little goals. She wasn’t pushing hard for her career while enduring judgment from people who couldn’t believe she even had the audacity to have a dream when there is a baby to take care of. She wasn’t missing opportunities because the little is sick or trying to fit two (or three) schedules into one day and all on a shoestring budget.

Shortly after that, I was backstage at a gig and a fellow cast member was talking about how her life currently sucked since the holiday had her gigging everyday and she was exhausted. Her remedy was to buy a bunch of sparkly things to later enjoy as the fruits of her labor. I, on the other hand, was arriving to this gig feeling totally frazzled because at that point, for two weeks, I had been desperately trying to get just 90 minutes alone in my house so I could rehearse, gather my thoughts, take a bath without hearing people chatting on the other side of the door. In that moment, I could not help but feel salty. I would love to take on more gigs and buy a bunch of sparkly shit, but I don’t really have the luxury of that time or money. For my labor, my fruit was just knowing my car insurance wouldn’t be late that month.

See, it isn’t BEING a young single mom that has been hard for me. There are even aspects of my character that I directly contribute to being a young mom. But starting anything, taking risks, devoting resources, that’s all been hard. Knowing my center and what I truly want versus what is my survival mode, that’s been difficult. Finding a partner, so hard, and I’ve gone through many potentials. I’ve never lived alone.  My personal routine was not thrown by a child because I hadn’t established one in the first place, and I’ve never really been able to. I have never been an adult able to be concerned with just myself.

This Beyonce, Cardi B and InstaMom rebranding has me reflecting on what I actually did lose but didn’t know was important until now, and how missing those elements keeps and slows me from my goals, often from even making them. If there are five steps to making something happen, with a child, it feels like 20. 

My best friend calls me revolutionary. She says I give hope to many women when it comes to motherhood… though I really think she mostly means herself. I can see where SHE sees this. We have both had moms who tried to keep a hold of their pre-mom selves, but ended up so far off balance that it affects us still as adults, so she gets me and the life I’ve been striving for. She has seen my times of frustration and triumph. She knows the challenges I’ve conquered and crumbled under. But still, I don’t FEEL like I paved anything! I don’t FEEL like I’ve revolutionized what it means to be a mother or how to mother. I’ve not had some great accomplishment in spite of being and mom… but I’m not done yet. 

Now, I’m 40, my oldest 20 and I have 50/50 custody of my 8-year-old. I’ve got some of my time back. I’m beginning to get some of my space back. I’m ready to pick up things I had to put on the back burner… 

And so, I ask you: “How do you do it? How do you take care of just yourself?”