These Single Mothers Share Stories of Survival, Resilience and Thriving

Being a mother has always been a journey that comes with a unique set of experiences. 

Be it in Nigeria, Canada or Jamaica, being a mother and indeed a parent comes with difficulties even whilst being a rewarding journey for those who choose it.

However, due to the patriarchal structure of most societies, women who are raising children outside of marriage whether by choice or by circumstances such as the abandonment of a husband, often find themselves on the receiving end of stigma and vitriol.

But these women are far more than how their stories are portrayed in popular media. They are the parents who stayed and deserve to have their stories of resilience celebrated.

Urban Woman Magazine recently spoke to some of these women to share their journeys.

Read their responses below.

Phoenix

I got married fresh out of university at 22. Within a year, I knew this wasn’t a life I could spend the rest of my years in. A year later, I had my son, and that sealed it for me; I couldn’t stay. My son deserved so much more. He deserved a home filled with peace, not one where he’d tiptoe around in fear of being yelled at or beaten for the slightest mistake.

I may have made a mistake in choosing his father, but I was determined to raise my son in a stable, loving environment, with joy, not tension.

So, I started saving whatever I could, whenever I could. It took me four years to gather enough to have something in my name. We had stopped speaking entirely for over a year at this point, even though we still lived in the same house. One day, I told him I was done. What we had wasn’t a marriage anymore. I asked for time until the end of the month to find a place and move out. His only response was, “Go to hell. By the time you’re done paying rent and school fees, you’ll come crawling back.”

About a week later, I came home from work and found him yelling on the phone with his father, saying he would “deal with me,” “go spiritual,” and that I’d soon be running from church to church looking for help. He spoke for over two hours, all of which were threats, curses, and plans to “mess me up.”

I called my dad and kept the phone on so he could hear everything. After listening for about 30 minutes, my dad hung up, called me back, and told me to pack a few bags for my son and me and go to my sister’s house immediately. He had already called her husband to explain everything. It was past 10 PM, but I honestly didn’t care at this point; I was DONE. I packed a few clothes and left.

As we were leaving in an Uber, my ex followed us. He caused a huge scene at my sister’s house, yelling that her husband was trying to break up his home by allowing me to stay here, accusing my family of using “jazz” on him. There is no form of insult, no type of name-calling that I didn’t receive. My sister’s husband had to call estate security to force him out.

You’d think that would be the end. It wasn’t. The very next day, he showed up at my workplace, a school where my son also attended, shouting at my boss about how I didn’t come home the night before, accusing the school of supporting “this kind of behavior.” When that didn’t get the reaction he expected, he began calling the school’s official lines, leaving comments on the school’s social media, calling me names, and warning parents not to bring their kids there.

It became too much. I resigned. All the while, he kept showing up at my sister’s house, sending threats to me and my family. He had everyone’s contact and made sure no one was spared.

That was the most stressful period of my life.

About three weeks later, I finally found a place and moved out. That was the start of a new journey, my son and I against the world.

The first six months were brutal. All I had was a mattress, a curtain, and some cooking utensils. But it was peaceful. It was mine. And my son was with me. I couldn’t ask for more.

That experience changed me completely. I used to be very social, outgoing. Suddenly, I became very quiet and withdrawn. Life really humbled me. I won’t go into every detail, but I disappeared from the world. I stopped posting online and wouldn’t reply to even WhatsApp messages. No job, no friends. Even my family didn’t know where I was for a while, because I was worried he’d trace them to us. I just focused on surviving, one day at a time.

Now, a little over three years later, I’m still amazed at how far I’ve come. I’ve shuffled through jobs, but God has been faithful. He really did prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies. I have a roof over my head, my son is in a great school, we never go hungry, and we’re clothed and happy.

What I craved most back then was community. Not family, community. I needed people who had been through what I was going through. People who could say, “I lived through this, and here’s how I made it out.” I needed to know survival was possible. I needed someone to talk to without fear of being judged or seen as a burden. While my family was of huge support, they couldn’t relate, so they could only do so much. 

So if you’re going through something similar, here’s what I want you to know:

1. It’s not your fault.

No matter what society says, don’t blame yourself. The shame doesn’t belong to you. You stayed. You chose your child. You are the parent who showed up. That’s what matters.

2. It gets better.

I promise you, it does. It’ll be hard, really hard. You’ll question everything. But hold on. You’ve already made the most important decision: choosing peace, choosing a better future. Keep pushing, even if it’s just one small step each day. One day, you’ll look back and be amazed at how far you’ve come.

3. Don’t let other people’s opinions define you.

You know who you are. Stand strong in that. Pay no mind to the noise. Focus on what truly matters.

Sending you love, strength, and the biggest hug.

You’ve got this, Mama.

E

Writing this has been hard, it’s emotional for me but I tried to do a summary.                            

I found out I was pregnant in my final year of university as a law student. Like any typical 20-year-old, it felt like my worst nightmare had come to life. Not long into dating, I realized I wasn’t attracted to men. I had been suppressing my attraction to women for years. On top of that, I was being mistreated in the relationship and didn’t want to keep the pregnancy.

We were on a break when I found out. I told him I wanted to terminate it quietly and didn’t want my parents involved. His reaction was quite terrifying, violent, controlling, and vindictive. He forcefully took my phone, tried to rewrite the narrative by saying he wanted the child and informed my parents. 

My mother begged me that she had a dream that I would die if I went through with an abortion. My father, who was a pastor, was firm in his religious stance. They refused to support any choice other than keeping the child. I panicked and couldn’t go through with my abortion.

They called for a family meeting and he denied the pregnancy, showed my parents revenge porn, slut-shamed me, and outed my sexuality to my parents. I wanted to fight back legally, but my family begged me to focus on myself and let it go.

I carried that pregnancy numb. Somehow, I completed my degree with a bump, had the baby, went to law school, and started working immediately after NYSC. Our mother-child relationship has always felt a bit non-traditional. I didn’t have the luxury of romanticizing motherhood, I was just trying to survive.

We’ve now had six years of no contact with his father, and he tries to pop back in now and then with a half-hearted apology. Most days, I feel lucky that my family helps, we don’t go hungry, my child is in school, and we have moments of joy. But I carry the silent knowledge that my son deserves more. For me, that ache never really goes away.

What I struggled with most was self-acceptance and self-forgiveness. I kept feeling like I should have known better. The world moves on, but the trauma and inner work linger. What I needed back then was a community that not just supported me, but with real people who had lived through a similar experience with real understanding. My family couldn’t relate to the parts of me shaped by that trauma. 

To new moms: I won’t sugarcoat it. It will be hard, but it gets easier. Many will talk, few will help. Eventually, the world moves on. And you must too. Your body is still your own, and your body has been loyal to you the whole time; do not punish it too. Your stretch marks, sagging breasts, all of it. Take nudes. Reclaim it. Cry when you need to. Ask for help. You’re not broken.

Worry will become a part of your life; don’t fight it, just make peace with it. Some days will be very hard. Life with a child is a harder one, but don’t do it alone. Allow other people to care for you and your child. Surround yourself with people who make you feel seen, heard, and safe. That’s how you breathe a little easier.

C

When I got pregnant I think what I craved most was acceptance and forgiveness. The man who said he loved me disappeared and refused to take my calls. 

My mother was so ashamed of me it’s almost a taboo to say my name at home.

They didn’t want anyone to know I had brought shame to their family. They shipped me off to a village in Anambra. It was awful. No phone, no electricity and my mom insisted that I was going to give up my daughter. 

I cried myself to sleep every night. I was scared, it was a new experience and even worse I couldn’t speak a word of Igbo in that remote area..

But somehow I pulled through, through the madness, the suicidal thoughts, the pills I would take hoping I’d die, the depression. Even when I had my daughter I hated her so much. I couldn’t look at her. She looked so much like her father it hurt and made me resent her. She would cry and the nurses had to scream at me before I would agree to breastfeed her. 

I wouldn’t tell people this part of my pregnancy because I feel so guilty about hating her.

Being a single mom is a journey of sacrifice. You sacrifice things and parts of yourself so often you wonder if you have anything left to give.

I want to tell a new alone mom out there .. you aren’t alone.

It may seem like it but I know it seems impossible but that baby is depending on you so much. 

You are literally God to him or her. My daughter may talk smart and be sarcastic but she runs to me for everything. I love how she tells people…let me tell my mommy. 

It gets less heavy I promise. It might not get easier but with with time you feel parts of you coming back. Take one day at a time. Forgive yourself please, this is easier said than done I know. I still tell myself that I was dumb and stupid but this was 6 years ago…don’t let guilt swallow you up like it did to me for a long time.

Your body is perfect, there’s nothing wrong with mom fat. Your breasts are perfect and most importantly…breathe. It’s your first time being a parent. No one knows everything. Even the perfect parents; all your child needs is you so don’t neglect yourself. 

Go out on dates with your child. Dress up and look fancy. Go to dinner with your baby. It doesn’t matter. Take photos of every single moment of their lives. They grow up so fast and before you know it they no longer need goodnight kisses.

It’s okay. You’re doing a good job I promise. A few years ago I was starving and homeless with a 3 year old…now I’m just starving 😹😹😹(we thank God for growth).

It’s all right. You’ll be an amazing mom. You’re doing a good job.

A

I really don’t know where to start, because it’s been such an overwhelming ride. But I’ll start anywhere I can think of.

I left my daughter’s father in February 2024, when my daughter was 6 months and after being married for 11 months.

The first thing I’ll never forget after leaving was the feeling of relief. Dear God. I slept so well and so peacefully that night, for the first time in monthssssss. I don’t think I’d ever been that relieved since I got married. Even though I was a bit sick and arrived my mom’s house like a pack of bones, with my daughter unwilling to start getting acquainted with solids, and so many other stressful things that were happening, I was still at peace somehow.

The following months were hell oo. Anytime I spoke to him, I’d have serious panic attacks. And I spoke to him often after we initially left. 

I can’t even properly put into words how difficult this guy was (and still is). He harrased me both online and offline, and even threatened to use police force to get the XR he gave me. At the end of the day, he was the one who ended up behind the police counter, after he tried to physically harass me during a meeting he suggested we have, to talk about my daughter’s upkeep. 

So many horrifying things happen, and till now I can’t narrate some of the stories without anxiety attacks. 

But I’ve just always known that I would never go through the same shit my mother went through. So, even though I ignored some of the red flags and didn’t realise he was lying/pretending about A LOT till later, I made sure I left as soon as I realised. 

I won’t say it wasn’t hard as hell. It was hard. But I drew courage from the fact that my mother did it with 4 children and she did not die. Even though we struggled really bad, we were happy, safe and at peace. I always swore that I would never bring up my child in the type of environment I spent a part of my childhood and teenage years. So, when I realized that’s exactly what my marriage was turning into, I started formulating a plan to leave. 

There were so many defining moments for me, but one of the most triggering ones for me was when he attempted to break down a door in our house. My mom’s ex husband used to do this too, and we even had a nickname for him because of this, that we’d use humor to cover up the pain. So when he did this, I think I went crazy for 10 minutes before realizing I had to leave and leave fast. 

My plans didn’t go as I’d envisioned, so unlike I’d planned, he became aware that I wasn’t coming back on the day I was leaving. I was so scared for me and my child’s life. But somehow we managed to leave. 

After that, he ignored my messages for about a week or two about the needs of my daughter. I tried to make peace for her sake, somehow trying to still foolishly ignore his past emotional abuse/neglect, but he didn’t want peace. 

This is such a summarised version tbh😂 but he currently doesn’t provide for her. I do it all from A-Z. 

And we’ve never been happier. I now wonder why I thought I needed to get married in the first place, when I discovered I was pregnant. I didn’t realise I’d been listening to society that much, until I left. 

My daughter gets to grow up in an environment that’s 1000X better than the one I grew up in, I can do parenting without any toxic ideas/beliefs interfering, and sooooo many more things. 

The only thing that I’ll say I desired in my early days of doing all this, was to be left alone by outsiders. My family and I did a great job of keeping me away from outsiders (read, church members) who wanted to interfere with their silly talk that still makes me want to vomit, but if there was a way I could have relocated and not hear a word AT ALL from any of them, that’s what I would have preferred. 

The whole “change countries and change your number” type of thing😂 

But otherwise, my family held me solid. Mostly my mom, my siblings, my aunt and her family. I don’t even want to get started on the family that I’m not related to by blood, but still supported me strongly in my decision. I don’t want to get started on my friends either. Because I’ll start crying ugly tears. 

I won’t lie, I had so much support. 

Not really monetary, but in other ways that you may not realise they matter until you experience them.  

When I left, I realised that out of all the people who really knew and loved me, I was probably the only one who wanted to get married. They just decided to support me. 

So when I left, it felt like they extremely proud of me for finally putting myself first and doing what was actually best for both me and my child, and not what others thought was best.

So far this year, I’ve been able to make X2 of what I made last year, and making my own money without interference from anybody is one of the best things in the world.  

My family and friends support in this whole thing, is one of the reasons why even when I’m having a bad day, I know it’s just that – a bad day. Recently, a client called me for an impromptu shoot, and I’d already accepted the gig with all the extra pay that comes with such gigs, before I realised I hadn’t given them any heads up that I’d be going out shortly. 

I just thought about how confident I was in their support, that I didn’t even have to worry about the short notice. Which is something I could never in a million years have, with that silly excuse for a man. 

For new single mums, I’ll say that:

1. It won’t always be like this. Things may leak super bleak right now and you may even question your decisions, your existence, and all the choices you’ve ever made that brought you to this point. 

But i need you to take it one step at a time. If you can’t do that, take it one day it a time. If you still can’t do that, take it an hour at a time. Just take things in the smallest bits possible. 

You just came out of an environment you couldn’t continue to live in, no matter how good it looked to others. You knew exactly what it was, and you made the decision that’s best for you and your little one(s).

2. Surround yourself with community. They don’t have to be your family. If you don’t have your family, find other ways to be surrounded by people who TRULY care about you and your child. It could even just be one or two persons. With those one or two persons, you can achieve anything.  

3. Don’t be afraid of, or feel guilty about receiving help. Chop that help like Oha. Take am rub body. Accept help like madddddd. As long as it doesn’t strip you of your dignity or integrity, and doesn’t harm you or anybody in anyway, please accept. 

4. As long as you have a skill, can gain a skill, have plans to gain a skill? YOU WILL BE FINE. 

5. Please don’t listen to people. Anybody that still supports you remaining in an environment where you’re unhappy, isn’t the best for your child, and is just not what you want for you and your child/children? They don’t have sense, and I’m not sorry to say it. And why should you pay any mind to people that don’t have sense?🫠