Tales of A Single Mum

AND SO, THE TITANIC SANK…  And down I went with it. Jack was nowhere to be found when I needed him most. (Damn you, DiCaprio.) I drowned in the sea of divorce and washed up on the lonely shore of single parenthood—cold, heartbroken, terrified, and utterly unprepared. In a new town, far from the chaos I once knew, I held my children close, whispering promises that we would be okay. I wiped my tears with a damp tissue, shaved my head, shed the extra weight, and convinced myself I was ready to take on this new life like a pro—or so I thought. Adjusting to being alone again was no small task. It meant taking on the roles of both parents—no good cop, no bad cop. Just me, the only cop in a severely underfunded, overworked force. The truth is, single parenthood is a rough road—whether you're divorced, widowed, or have always been on this journey alone. But with each day, each hurdle, and every small victory, I’ve realized that we grow stronger, and somehow, we find the courage to keep going. So, I’m sharing my story—not just for me, but for every single parent out there who needs to know they’re not alone. Follow me as I navigate this unpredictable ride. My name is Margaret, and this is my story. So, it’s not like day 1 is day 1. It’s just the day I’ve decided to begin. The day I cut off my hair. It started just like any other day. With the beautiful sunrise, the birds singing in the trees, the morning dew glistening on the leaves… well at least that’s how the day starts in many parts of the world, but in my little corner, I was jolted awake when I felt something in my mouth. It was my daughter’s foot. My daughter had rolled over to my side of the bed and somehow karatecally (I know, I know it’s not a word.) shoved her foot into my mouth while managing to stay fast asleep. I then proceeded to take out the foot, raise her leg, roll out of bed and drop to the floor in true commando fashion… I had to get to my phone which was beeping before it woke the kids up. I picked up the phone from the dresser and hit the vibrate button. My childhood friend Yomi Shaolin was texting from Slovenia. “Mags you awake?” “Yeah?” I texted back, sitting on my sofa. “Did I wake you? “ “Not really, Zion’s foot woke me up,” I said, yawning. “Zion’s? Okay, I’m not even going to pretend I understand you” “How’s it going in Slow? “I said, changing the topic. “Boring as hell, I’m at work and on my third coffee. Hold on I’ll send you a picture.” She proceeded to send me a picture of her sitting at her work desk dressed like a hippie from the 70’s. She looked so out of place in a corporate establishment that I could see why she was miserable there. “You look like the love child of Cher and Steven King.” I offered, laughing softly. “Aha! You see? I always knew my real parents were rich! How are you holding up sweetie? Really” “Well I don’t have to struggle for the remote control anymore” I replied, adding a smiling smiley to try to hide my true feelings. It failed woefully and she sent a sad smiley in return. “You sound pathetic right now. And that’s not the strong, brave woman that I know. You know what you should do? “ “What?” “Something daring like move here. To Europe!” “LOL baby steps Shaolin”, thinking of the bank I’d have to rob to move to Europe. “Fine! Get a tattoo, shave your hair, whatever I don’t care, just do something liberating!” she added, rolling my eyes smiley. For some reason, the “shaving my hair” idea suddenly seemed like the best thing I’d heard all month. I remember rocking short hair as a junior at Command Day Secondary School. “Oh my! That’s it! I’ll shave my hair!” “Sweeeeeeeeet! Take it all off Mags! You’ll look like Toni Braxton, I swear! Go today... no delay, I’ll be here for moral support or if you need me to direct or abuse the barber. Okay, I see my boss coming, laterz gaterz “she ended with a smiley kiss. “Later” I replied and signed off. I was going to cut my hair after so many years. I was excited and nervous. I had very full hair that framed an afro round my face whenever I combed it out. Was I ready to let it all go? Indeed, I felt like I was. So, the kids woke up, I got them fed and dressed for school, dropped them off and hunted for the nearest barbers shop my heart beating all the way. I found a salon that had a resident barber called Aanu. He had a sign above his cubicle that read LATEST HOLLYWOOD CUTZ! There was a picture with Chris Brown and Ludacris to go with the sign. Aanu the barber was a cheerful fellow with an earring and a dramatically dyed and carved beard. I thought to myself that all he needed was an eye patch, and he’d be a real-life pirate in a hair salon. With an unsteady hand, I pointed at Chris Brown. “Chris Brown abi? No shaking mama!” He said in a bid to make me relax as he began. I watched as my hair began to fall to the ground in clumps. The ladies over at the hairdresser's corner were all looking at me like I was nuts about taking it all off. A few minutes later, pirate Aanu was done and I could barely recognize my face. Yomi was right! I looked like Toni Braxton. At least her Nigerian cousin. Most importantly, I felt free! Like a whole new person. I instantly sent a picture to Yomi Shaolin. “OMG! You really did it! I just screamed in the office! You’ll get me fired! I SO LOVE IT!” and she went on and on as I left the salon and headed back home. Back home, there were screams all around from the neighbors. I had to convince my kids I wasn’t an imposter. In the end, I had done something daring, and I was really happy. All is well that ends. Namaste!