Single Mom Out Loud

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


Real Men and Why I Can’t Resist Them

The other night a friend and I were talking about boys and men and how to spot one from another. Being able to differentiate the two is an art acquired after years of dating. With age and experience, comes certain abilities and wisdom, and being able to spot a real man in an ocean of guys is definitely a good skill to have. It will save you a lot headache and heartache and it will even save you from horrible sex.

Real men are awesome. I am not talking about guys who aren’t done being boys yet, or guys who think being a man is being an asshole. I am talking about real men. The ones who have lived enough to know exactly what it means to be one, the guys who are done growing up and are comfortable in their own skin. I love those men.

I love how they dress, how they stand and how they move. I love how they kiss and how they hug. I love how they discuss politics, grill a nice steak and are obsessed with their single malt. I love how they take their team seriously and how they genuinely hurt when they lose. I love rough hands but gentle touches. And I am absolute sucker for neck kisses and that passionate grab that makes your legs tremble.

I love how confident they are and how confident they make you feel. There is nothing sexier than a man who owns his body as well as his mind. He owns his triumphs as well as his mistakes. He doesn’t make excuses for his shortcomings and he takes responsibilities for his bad choices. He is just all around confident in who he is and who he used to be, even if that means accepting that he wasn’t all that great at some point. Real men learn and they are eager to share their lessons with you.

I love how they take control. How they open the car door and carry my groceries. I love how they can surprise me by paying the bill on their way to the restroom because they know I would insist in splitting. I love how they can pick me up and put me against the wall with so much intensity but yet so much gentleness. Maybe it’s a reminder that he is bigger than me or maybe it’s a power thing. Whatever it is, its sexy.

I love how they take care of their home and their car. Boys are messy and dirty but men are clean and organized. When a real man invites me over to his home I can’t help but fall in love with it’s details, its smell, it’s inviting neatness and how comfortable it makes me feel. When he picks you up, his car is neat and the captivating smell of his cologne is not overtaken by the smell dirty socks or cheap burgers. Real men take care of their things with the same attention to detail they take care of their women.

I love how they initiate sex in the middle of the night. And not like some boys who are thinking only about his urges. Real men know how to do it right. They do it slowly and softly. I love the way a man who knows what he’s doing carefully rearranges and positions my body for me. The fact that he’s guiding the situation, softly but firmly in control, means that I can just enjoy the ride. Yes, please. Once, twice and three times on weekends.

I love how they can do things. They know how to change a tire and the oil. They know how to fix my bike last minute because I forgot to check it before that well planned bike ride. I love how they can cook better than me but pretends mine is better. Real men just know shit. Period. But they are not pretentious for knowing. They are modest. They are humble. They are simple. They might be the best at his career/job but they don’t act like it. Real men are never douchey.

I love how solid they are when I am freaking out. I have gotten way better at controlling my emotions and acting rational. I think overcoming my initial reaction to lose my shit has been one of my biggest accomplishments this year. But I am still me and I am still a Brazilian Woman with Latin blood, and sometimes I still lose it. And when I am losing it I don’t need a guy to lose it with me or to try to fix me. I don’t need to be told to calm down (that’s never a good idea) and I definitely don’t need to be preached on my behavior. I just need to be heard and to be guided. And a man that can guide me, has me. Real men know how to handle a woman having a meltdown. They understand women and our hormones and they know how to take control of the situation, to calm it down and to guide his woman back to sanity. They are sexy in their firmness during the storm. They are not intimidated by my freakout, they are actually somewhat (and respectably) entertained by it.

But the ONE thing I cannot ever resist is a man who likes children and who loves being in a family environment. There is nothing hotter than a man who enjoys playing with children and who does it genuinely and not just to get your attention. And trust me, we women know the difference. It’s extremely sexy, It’s a turn-on. I literally feel my private parts tingling. It doesn’t make me want to have babies with them, but it definitely makes me want to practice making them.

As a single mother I make sure that no man ever meets my child. I keep my son from my dates because I know how important it is for my child to not feel confused about my sex life. I don’t want my son to feel the rejection of his father every time a man leaves my life. But seeing the way a real man deals with children makes me feel safer if I ever decide he is worthy enough to meet the most important man in my life.

In general real grown up men are just amazing. When I am in their presence, my entire being gives in. I become less defensive, more gracious, smarter and gentler. I am expressive without being reactive. I am a better version of me without being perfect.

I feel like a woman. With a man. And that’s just irresistible.

amorous Couple on grey background

amorous Couple on grey background



Blood is Not Always Thicker Than Water

“Blood is thicker than water.” We have all heard that cliché repeated time and time again, referring to the belief that the bonds of family blood are stronger than any other bond. I’ve been thinking about this saying for months; ever since my son was born. But what happens when blood is not thicker than water? Are all families loyal? Do all families care? The birth of my son has taught me some very harsh lessons on family.

Thankfully, I’ve been blessed to be part of a family that loves me and who will do anything for me. And consequently Kaio has been blessed too. My family, although far from perfect, is loyal and caring and they value family ties above everything. I feel extremely grateful that I was able to give my son such family.

Although thousands of miles away, my family makes sure to stay connected and involved in my life and Kaio’s life. Facebook let’s me share photos and videos instantly. My grandma will FaceTime almost every day, and my uncles will do the same at least one a week. My oldest uncle, Ivan, is Kaio’s godfather and I couldn’t have picked a better one. He is loving, caring and doesn’t go more than 3 days without facetiming us. My family is so close that even though I have lived far away for 20 years, every time I go back home it feels like I never left. Maybe its a Latin thing, but how many people can say that about their families?

Obviously I feel very blessed to see how loved my son is by my family. And most importantly, I feel blessed that he will always feel loved and he will always feel that he belongs.

But for a a long time I didn’t feel this grateful. For a year I felt guilty and hurt that I wasn’t able to give my son another family: his paternal family. I took upon me the reason why he doesn’t have a father and a paternal family around. I felt like it was my fault that his grandmother refuse to meet him. 

I think every mother hurts when we see our child being rejected by those who theoretically should love them. And for a whole year that’s how I felt. Hurt and guilty, as if I failed my son for their shitty actions. I have met countless single mothers online who struggle with the same issue so I know Kaio and I are not the only ones going through this. It seems like when the father leaves, his family will leave too.

Maybe its to avoid drama, or maybe his absence gives them the much needed excuse to leave too. Or maybe its because they don’t like the child’s mother. Maybe its an American thing, given our cold and disconnected society. Maybe it has nothing to do with nationality, but with morals, or lack thereof. Maybe it’s just pure and simple psychology playing itself out. Mr. Big was cut off from his father’s life and when he had boys of his own he also cut them off from his life. Maybe it’s as simple as him subconsciously forcing into his sons the same pain of abandonment his father gave him. Or maybe he is just a selfish Individual with no deep trauma as an excuse for his behavior and his family is just as ugly.

I don’t know why people do that to their own. And I will never truly understand it because that’s not how I was raised. I can’t imagine my grandmother or any of my uncles not doing everything they can so they can be part of a grandchild’s or nephew’s life. Let alone, do everything NOT to be part of it. But even though I will never understand it, I have come to accept their decision to not include my son in their family.

For those of us whose kids were rejected by other family members, just be grateful their rejection came sooner than later. It’s easier for a child to never know some people exist, than to know and always wonder why they don’t care enough to come around.

So yes, to some blood is in fact thicker than water. But some blood are also worn thin from the beginning. So it’s important to focus on the family that our children already have, rather than the one we think they should. Family is so much more than just DNA. And Kaio knows that already. He has love, care, connection, loyalty and lots of fun from his family, even though they are far away. And he doesn’t need anything else or anyone else, especially if it has to be begged for. Anyone who made the conscious decision to reject a child doesn’t deserve him or her in their first place. Rejecting a son or grandchild or a brother can’t possibly bring good things to one’s life. But that’s their karma to deal with. Not ours.