Single Mom Out Loud

The joys (and desperation) of raising a boy without a man


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You Will Never Be Like Him 

Dear son, you will never be like him. 

No matter how many people assume otherwise, you will never grow up to be him. 

I know that you’re looking to see yourself in me.

But in truth, I am sorry that you are so much like me.

~

I’m sorry that I gave you a heart stronger than a thousand warriors, because it will take you years to learn that not everyone loves like you do. It’s a hard lesson, and its scars gleam from you never giving up on what you truly desire.

There are moments that I look at you in this beautiful world and see you mesmerized by the simple brilliance of life unfolding. In these moments, my heart splits open a little bit wider for you.

I see your innocence and desire to help others, and I wonder when it will be that you first feel the sting of being used. I wonder if your faith will be tested in the world or if you will hold onto to your morals against those who have blurred the lines of theirs. 

I’m sorry that you see only the good in everyone.

Childhood is about seeing everything with wonder. You look around, and there is no evil, no danger lurking around hidden corners. It’s inconceivable that the greatest pains you will ever encounter will be at the hands of those you love the most.

I wish that I could instill all of my lessons into your warm heart, but I know that you need to learn on your own. I can spend days with you in the sunshine telling you life’s truths, but in the end my experiences won’t necessarily become yours.

I’m sorry that you feel everything as deeply as you do. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply. 

There are caverns inside of your soul that ache to feel everything that this life has to offer. I can see the way that you feel compassion for strangers, and how you sometimes just stop to look at me as if I hung the stars in the sky. I can see the way that you are brimming with the ability to feel the world around you and with it, all of the heartache and passion it can offer.

~

You might have moments where you wish that this wasn’t so, and while I’m sorry that I have given this quality to you, in time I hope you see that it is truly a gift, not a burden.

Many parents delight when their children exhibit the same qualities that they have, but in my heart I secretly send you a thousand sweet apologies, because even though one day I know you’ll gain strength from these attributes, I also know that the pain they can inflict could tear you in two.

And so, while I am sorry that you are so much like me, I also couldn’t be more proud of you.

I see the way that you forgive everyone around you with such a delicate tenacity, and how you already have learned to stick up for yourself and your needs. I see the way that you’re already so much smarter than I was, so much better equipped to handle the ways of the world, and in those instances, I know that there is no doubt you will one day learn how to use your wings.

While I may not be perfect, I am precisely the mother you need.

I may have given you my giant heart and sensitive soul, but I am giving you my strength too, so that even on the darkest nights, you will know you can get through anything life may toss your way. And I will always be there, too.

You are a little warrior.

I know that you have heartbreak ahead of you, but I also know that you will change the world simply by loving how you do. You have a gift of lighting up the room just by being yourself; my only hope is that you won’t let any encounter change that.

As you grow older, the world will begin to tell you that magic doesn’t exist, and while I know that you may have your faith tested, I hope that you continue to wish on falling stars and believe in all that is unseen in this world.

I’m sorry that you are so much like me, but only because I know how hard this world will try to change you and at times break you. 

So, while one day you may strive to show how different you are from me, there is no doubt—nor has there ever been—that you, my sweet warrior boy, are my son.

 You are not him. You will never be him. You are me. 

And I couldn’t be more proud of that.

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Waiting Line

You are a wild horse running alone

and he tries to tame you

compares you to an impossible highway

to a burning house

says your smoke is suffocating him

He mistreats you, pushes you away 

There is something about him that 

simply can’t treat you the way you 

Treat him 

And you tried to understand 

But at what point will you choose 

yourself over understanding him? 

You are always too intense

frightening in the way you want him

unashamed and sacrificial

he tells you that no man can live up to the one who

lives in your head

and you tried to change didn’t you?

closed your mouth more

tried to be softer

prettier

less volatile, less loud 

but even when sleeping you could feel

him travelling away from you in his dreams

The truth is darling, he doesn’t think you are good enough

There is nothing you can do to make him see your value 

To him even the cheapest is better 

so what did you want to do love? 

split his head open?
You can’t make homes out of human beings

someone should have already told you that

Some men are just not into good loyal women

So if he wants to leave

then let him leave

Don’t let him come back 

Eventually every ending  becomes final and every unreciprocated love dies

You are a rare diamond

A jackpot waiting to be cashed in

You are smart but intimidating 

something not everyone knows how to love.


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After A While You learn… (Poem)

After a while you learn the difference,

the subtle difference between

holding a hand and chaining a soul

 

And you learn

that attachment isn’t love 

and company doesn’t always mean security.

And you begin to learn

that kisses aren’t contracts

and presents aren’t promises.

 

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes ahead

with the grace of woman,

not the grief of a child.

 

And you learn

to build all your roads on today

because tomorrow’s ground is

too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down

in mid-flight.

 

After a while you learn

that even sunshine burns

if you get too much of it 

 

And you learn that it takes years to build trust

but only seconds to destroy it.

And that you can do things in a split second

and regret it for the rest of your life.

 

You learn that the true friendships continue to grow

even with long distances.

And that what matters is not what you have in the life,

but who you have in life.

 

With time you learn that good friends

are the family we were allowed to choose

and that you and your best friend can do many things together

or nothing at all but still have a great time.

 

You start to learn that It takes a lot of time

to become the person we want

and time is short.

So please don’t compare yourself to others,

but to the best that you can be.

 

 

After a while you learn that love,

just like patience,

requires practice.

And its not because someone didn’t love you the way you expected them to

that they didn’t love you at all. 

 

After a while you learn that

it does not matter in how many pieces your heart was broken;

the world will not stop for you to fix it.

 

So plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone

to bring you flowers.

 

And you learn that you really can endure

you really are strong

you really do have worth

and you learn

and you learn

with every goodbye you learn…


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Wishes 

Well, first I wish you love. And I wish it’s easily reciprocated. But if it’s not I hope you find the strength to pursue it. 

There is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent away. 

But you lose it, I hope you are quick in forgetting. And when you do, do it without resentments. 

Later I wish you are never alone. 

But if you are, feel the loneliness without despair. 

I also wish you have many friends and even if they are irresponsible and reckless, I hope they are courageous and loyal.

I wish in at least one you can trust without doubts. 

And because life is the way it is, I also wish you enemies.

Not many. Not few. 

Just enough so sometimes you can reevaluate your certainties.

I also wish you confidence, but never enough to make you think you are irreplaceable. 

And in bad times, when there’s nothing left, I hope this confidence is enough to keep you on your feet. 

While at it, I wish you tolerance and understanding. 

But not with those who make few mistakes, because that’s easy. 

But with those who screw up repeatedly and irreparably.

I hope this tolerance and understanding can be a good example to others. 

I wish that while you are young, you don’t try to mature too quickly. 

But when you do, I wish you don’t insist in getting younger. 

But above all, when you finally get old, do not feel desperate. Each age has its pleasures and its pains and you need to let them run their course within you. 

I also wish you some sadness. 

Not the whole year. 

Not a whole month or a whole week.

Only for one day. 

And on that day, I hope you learn that daily laughter is good 

But constant laughter is insanity. 

I hope you discover, with the utmost urgency, that there are oppressed people all around you.

Be grateful you are not one of them.

Be their voice. Join their fight. 

I wish you money, because its practical and fun. 

But at least once a year, put a portion of it in front of you and say: 

“This is mine.”

So you remember who owns who. 

I also hope none of your loved ones die. Both for them and for you. 

But if they do, I hope you can cry without self-blaming and suffer without resentments. 

I also wish you change. Not much. Just a little every year. Not for others. But for you. Change is progress and it’s important to improve ourselves every day. 

Finally, I wish you integrity and I hope you become a good man. 

And you find a good woman that will love you just the way you are. 

And when you do, appreciate her. People come and go, but to a precious few you should hold on. 

And when you do, I hope you learn to love her slowly. 

Love at first sight is infatuation. Real love grows. 

And as weird as it may sound, I also hope you two argue at least once a week, so you both remember you are unique individuals with independent personalities.

And if all this happens, I have nothing more to wish you.


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Big Mistakes And Unexpected Lives

Perhaps we need to be broken first before we can finally become whole.

Painful love is the worst kind of heartbreak. It’s the one we had such high hopes for, the one we gambled everything for—only to find it was a bet that would never be won.

~

So we break into a million small pieces of ourselves and wonder how we could have gotten it so wrong.

We make mistakes in love.

We choose people based on the lessons that our souls need to learn without realizing that it’s usually those difficult lessons we need to experience the most.

We can’t be changed by ease and we can’t have our minds broken open by the mundane—instead it can only happen when we are left with nothing but ourselves and our regrets.

Maybe there is no such thing as a mistake if we indeed needed it to learn more about who we are and how we love, but still there are those loves we wish we could rewind and just take back. The ones whose endings were too painful for us to want to permanently claim as part of our history.

The thing is, we need that big mistake to help propel us toward our ultimate life.

We need to be broken in order to find out how we want to put ourselves back together.

Often times the biggest mistake of our lives is a relationship that we should have walked away from the minute it began—or at the very least should have let go of long before we actually did, and way before it all went downhill.

But we didn’t, and it’s not because that love was meant to be, but because without it we might never have realized the life we were truly meant to live.

~

We always have the choice to stay in a relationship that is a constant battle of wills and ideals. Yet, no matter how many times we hope it will end differently, or just maybe work this time around—it never does.

This is because it’s not meant to.

Our mistake is meant to end, usually bitterly, and often catastrophically. Its purpose is to rock us to our core and challenge our very self and our beliefs about love.

We are meant to question what went wrong, and to wonder what love really means to us. This isn’t an overnight process , but one that we need to take the time to immerse ourselves in until we no longer hide from the truth that our hearts whisper.

It’s a state of healing that lets us know that we can send someone our love, but we can also walk away with our heads high and our faith strong knowing that we haven’t messed up the best thing we ever had.

Because the best version of our life is out there waiting for us and when we meet there will be no question about why we needed to have our hearts broken in the way we did.

Because all along they were only leading us to this—a life that was created just for us, and somehow through the meandering paths that life takes, ended up not being perfect, but still being perfect for us.

The life we are waiting for only comes when we are ready for it. When we have broken apart who we thought we should be and instead embraced who we are. The things and people that will make up this life only appears when we have gained the ability to believe that we deserve what we want.

We will allow ourselves to gaze past the superficial and instead appreciate the energy that these people and things bring into our lives, reveling in the new-found depths of connection that we are experiencing.

The life we are meant to live won’t look or feel like anything we’ve ever experienced. The friends and love affairs we are supposed to experience might come softly, or it might even enter as a wrecking ball. It might be a city you never thought about moving to, a kid you never thought you wanted, or a partner that is the opposite of what you imagined and friends you would have never met if it wasnt for your mistake. But, it will all come together and present you with a life that is beyond what we ever imagined.

And that’s the thing about life—it may not end up being how we thought it was, and it may still not come without challenges, but somehow its still better.

Because finally we realize that our “great mistake” was really a north star all along, leading us to the life we are meant to live, with the people we are meant to have around.

“Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us.” ~ curiano.com

 

*This piece is for my dear friends Carrie Hill and Jason J Hill and all the other amazing people I met because of my Big Mistake.*

 

 

 


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His Name is Kaio. 

I got the best one out of all. He is an old soul coupled with sarcastic witty personality. 

A caring little dude. 

A mini activist who likes to run around the house singing “love Trumps hate!” and “if he builds a wall I tear it down!”. 

Yes, I taught him those things, but he still chooses to learn and carry it every day which is rare for 3 year olds who are usually obsessed with super heroes instead. 

He is my super hero. 

He is confident and he doesn’t let others bully him. When I took him back to school wearing a pony tail, the older kids started making fun of him that he looked like a girl the moment we walked in. He then quickly responded “So? I like girls. Girls are cool. Right mom?”

He is a feminist. 

He is strong. Although he doesn’t have a “dad” he doesn’t care. He knows how to tie a knot, ride a skateboard and even throw a punch. He acts every day like his life is perfectly complete. Most of the time I am the one hurting for what he doesn’t have. He simply lives and does so with a continuous smile on his face. Sometimes I even wonder what it must feel like to be so happy all the time. 

He is so happy. 

He is loving too. I wake up with kisses almost every day. There are constant “I love you’s” throughout the day for no specific reason. Just because he has that much love to give. 

But don’t be fooled. He is far from perfect. 

He is stubborn and he has the worst potty mouth a toddler can have. 

Like every other human being he is flawed, but he knows it. And that’s what makes him so great in my eyes. 

After a bad tantrum or a bad word spoken, there is always an “I am sorry mommy. That was bad of me. I will try not to do it again ok?”

“I will try” is my favorite part of his apology. Because damn don’t we all know that trying to change is all we can really do? 
This is Kaio. I made him. I care for him every day. And I am damn proud of it. 

Today is not my day. Today is his day. 

It’s the day I celebrate everything he teaches me and remind myself how lucky I am to have been the portal that brought him from some unknown dimension into this world. 

I am just the messenger. 

He is the message. 


#mothersday2017


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On Mother’s Day, A Message to Weak Women Who Date Absent Fathers

Recently I found myself in the most nerve wrecking situation any mother could find herself: fighting to legally keep her child. It’s the reason why I am so behind in blogging about the rest of my south east Asia trip. I promise those posts are coming soon though. 

As most of my followers and readers know, my son’s biological father is not involved in any way in in his life. Last time he saw or called my son, he was only 7 months old, exactly 3 years ago. I say MY son because I believe being a dad is not an entitlement, it’s an earned privilege.  I also have never said his name before because I don’t believe in slandering others, even those who are constantly trying to harm us. So may his identity be forever kept secret. 

Anyway, My son’s father, the one who shall never be named, is also not on his birth certificate, my son doesn’t have his last name and he rarely makes full child support payments. He has never tried to visit him, call him or get his name on his birth certificate. He has been completely absent for three years. Some would call him a deadbeat dad, I just choose to call him absent. What can I say, I am a classy bitch. 

Fast forward to April 10th, when I found out that this same guy who has REFUSED to speak to us in three years, had filed for a restraining order against me in my son’s name; meaning that if granted by the judge I would not only lose custody but I would also not be allowed within 100 yards of my child. 

He filed this based on an altercation we had back in 2011 and a very chaotic and volatile relationship that followed. In order to file in my son’s name, he falsely claimed I abuse my child, that I could potentially kidnap him back to his home country of Brasil (that’s where my son and I were born) and that I am a danger to him. Thankfully he did not win. All false allegations were rejected by the court and I kept my child. 

But here is the plot twist: all these allegations came FIVE days after I notified him that I had filed for unpaid child support. 

That’s right. For three years he never worried that I was abusing my son and that my son was in danger. It only occurred to him this possibility after I decided to go after my son’s money. Some would call him a dick for retaliating against something that is my son’s right. Others would call him a very neglectful parent for allowing “his” child to live with such an abusive mother for so long without even a single call to check if he was still alive. I rather keep my opinion of him to myself. 

Because this post is not about him. 

This post is about her. 

The “woman” who stood across from me in the court hallway for over 8 hours waiting to testify against me even though she never met my child, or for that matter, me. And I say woman in quotations because I am pretty sure Susan B. Anthony and Simone de Beauvoir would be rolling in their graves if they knew that “women” like these still exist. 

I wish I could scream her name for the whole world to hear, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being known. 

We all know one or two of these “women”. They are extremely submissive. They are very motherly to their man. They speak softly, they keep their head down (like this specific one did the whole time in court), they don’t question anything they do and they are just happy being their man’s shadow and arm candy, both at work and in every other aspect of their lives. They are like German shepherd dogs, blindly loyal to their owners and what I call true weak bitches. And they will do whatever they need to do to please their man, even if it means creating fear, chaos, harming toddlers, mothers, friends and families they don’t even know. 

As a feminist, I believe every woman has the right to choose what kind of space they want to take in this world. You have the right to choose to be a stay home mom, or you can choose to pursue a career. You can choose to be an activist and fight for a better world for other women, or you can spend hours in front of the mirror applying makeup and getting your hair done. 

I believe in choice. 

What I don’t believe in is the right to hurt, harm and cause destruction on another’s life simply because you are too weak to say no. 

On this Mother’s Day I want to congratulate every single mother on this planet that has to deal with this type of “woman” in their lives. Maybe she is your ex’s current girlfriend, or maybe even his wife. They don’t know the struggle you go through every single day to raise your child ALONE but they sure know how to judge you and even hurt you.  They never had to wake up in the middle of the night to feed your child. They never stayed up all night bringing his or her fever down. They never bought them a gift. They never bothered to meet them. They know NOTHING about your child or what it is to be a mother.  But somehow they think they are entitled to judge your parenting and disrupt your entire life, simply because their man asked them to. 

If you, a mom, have dealt or are dealing with these creatures, I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart I am sorry. Know in your heart that it’s not your fault. You are not a bad mom because some stranger thinks so. It’s not your fault your child is fatherless. You are not broken or less than her simply because she has him (not that we want them anyway). And you should never EVER feel any fear of losing your child to these “women”. That is not a fear any single mother should EVER feel. And most importantly: know that THEY WILL NEVER BE YOUR CHILD’S MOM even if one day you have the misfortune of being forced by a judge to allow this creature near your child. Your motherhood is something they will never take from you, no matter how hard they try. 

I wish I could say that I wish upon these “women”, the same pain they inflict in others if they ever become mothers themselves. But I can’t. Because the fear of losing a child is not something I wish upon anybody. Not even the lowest and ugliest human beings. 

She will never understand the pain she put me through. She will never feel the anxiety and knot in my stomach every time I thought about the possibility of losing my son. She wasn’t there to hold me up when I was having a panic attack. She didn’t see me sleeping at friends’ houses the whole week before trial because the sight of my son’s bedroom and toys would trigger an emotional meltdown. She wasn’t there to see how much I cried, how little I ate, how much I spent and the hell she put me through. She didn’t see any of it. She didn’t think of it. She didn’t care about it. All she did was what she was trained to do: follow around and obey her owner regardless of anything, like a well trained dog. 

To these women I wish strength, a louder voice and the courage to claim their space in both their relationship and in this world, which every day tries to confine us into societal cages. But above all, to these women I wish compassion and a sense of sisterhood towards other women. This is something their weak and submissive personality seriously lack. 

I even thought about writing this “woman”, that sat across from me with the intent of taking away the most valuable thing in my life, a very angry email after the pain she inflicted in me. But I thought it would be more generous of me to just give her a whole page on my blog instead, since I also learned in court that she loves printing and collecting my writing. 

So this one is for her. This one is for her collection. May one day she become a more empathetic and stronger human being. 


Special note: Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there ESPECIALLY the single, hard working moms like myself pulling double duty every day because some guy out there thinks he is too cool to do his share. May our days be filled with peace and may those who think they can fuck with our cubs think twice.