Finding Myself Again: A Single Mom's Self-Care Journey

I need to be vulnerable here for a minute, because I think some of you might need to hear this.

For four years after my divorce, I completely lost myself. I have two kids — my 8-year-old son who is on the autism spectrum and my 6-year-old daughter who is neurotypical. When their dad left, I went into survival mode. Every ounce of my energy went to them. Therapy appointments, school meetings, meltdown management, homework help, bedtime routines, and then collapsing into bed at 11 PM only to do it all again.

I stopped seeing friends. I stopped exercising. I stopped reading books that weren't about autism or parenting strategies. I ate whatever the kids didn't finish for dinner. I can't remember the last time I bought myself new clothes that weren't from the clearance rack at Target.

The wake-up call came six months ago when my daughter drew a family picture at school. She drew herself and her brother playing, and then she drew me on the couch looking tired. When her teacher asked about it, she said, "That's my mommy. She's always tired."

That hit me like a truck.

I realized that in trying to be the perfect mom, I'd become a shell of the person I used to be. And my kids were noticing. They weren't getting the best version of me — they were getting the exhausted, depleted, running-on-fumes version.

So I started small. Really small.

Week 1: I started waking up 20 minutes before the kids to drink my coffee while it was still hot. Just sitting in silence with a warm mug. It felt revolutionary.

Week 2: I called my best friend from college. We talked for 45 minutes while the kids watched a movie. I laughed — actually laughed — for the first time in I don't know how long.

Week 3: I found a yoga video on YouTube that was only 15 minutes long. I did it in my living room after the kids went to bed. My body ached in muscles I forgot I had.

Month 2: I asked my neighbor if she could watch the kids for one hour on Saturday mornings. She said yes immediately and seemed almost offended I hadn't asked sooner. I used that hour to walk around the neighborhood with headphones in, listening to a podcast about something completely unrelated to parenting.

Month 3: I joined this community. Reading other parents' stories made me feel less alone. Chatting with Ally when I had a rough day helped me process my feelings without judgment.

Now, six months in, I'm not going to pretend I'm "fixed" or that everything is perfect. I still have hard days. I still feel guilty sometimes when I take time for myself. But I'm learning that self-care isn't selfish — it's necessary.

My son's therapist actually noticed the difference. She said he seemed calmer in sessions, and she asked what had changed at home. I told her the truth: "I started taking care of myself."

Turns out, when mom is less stressed, the whole house feels it. Who knew?

If you're reading this and you're in that survival mode phase, I see you. I was you. And I want you to know that it's okay to start small. One cup of hot coffee. One phone call to a friend. One 15-minute yoga video.

You can't pour from an empty cup, and you deserve to be more than just "Mom." You're a whole person with needs and dreams and a life that matters.

Start today. Start small. But please, start.

With love and solidarity,

A mom who's learning to breathe again