Thursday, April 06, 2006

The Courage to be Called a "Single Mom"

"Are you a single mom?" the woman sniffed while first glancing at me up and down and then at my daughter. "No," I said awkwardly, "I'm, uh, divorced." She had appeared at my door on a campaign blitz for a local judical seat, but the selling of her candidate was simply lost revenue in the voting sales margin because I heard nothing that she said after she asked me that question that was extremely too personal and frankly, none of her business.

My daughter had a puzzled look on her face, she had never heard her mom referred to in this manner. After the burn of humiliation had left my brain and moved down to my heart, I finally managed to say to the woman who by now had invited herself in to my condo, "Does it matter if I'm a single mom or not? Why does that matter?" I barely listened as she finished her spiel, lied to her that I would consider her candidate so I could politely shut the door and turn out the lights.

After she left, I sat on the couch and discussed the phrase with my seven-year-old daughter. "Mom," she said, "that lady was kind of rude to you." She continued "I'm glad your my mom" and she gave me the kind of bear hug that will erase any injustices done to a mom's heart. Still fumbling for words, I told her and realized it at the same time "For you, it would be worth being a triple mom or a quadruple mom!"

Personal affront aside, the comment has caused me to examine how society loves to put labels on everyone and everything - in my case single mothers. "Single Mom" is still something I'm trying to get used to. This isn't the first time this has happened.

My oldest sister once called me a "single mom" in front of her sister-in-law and nephew. She was totally unaware of the embarrassment it had caused me. Confused about how it made me feel, I found a reason to leave shortly thereafter. The comment stung, it hurt especially coming from my sister.

At church I feel invisible, no one knows what to do with me. When it comes to Adult Sunday School classes at church, I find myself in no woman's land. I'm stuck between the Contemporary Couples Class or Singles With Friends (none of them have children).

Recently, I was looking up a devotional on a popular Christian website that has single parents included in a listing for outreach minstries targeting: prisoners, CEOs, addicts, and those with HIV/AIDS. I didn't know if I should feel desperate or empowered.

The label feels like a tattoo that sometimes I try to cover up and sometimes as if the whole world can see it. My divorce has left behind a grief and sadness so deep it swallowed the pain of my father dying. After three years of getting used to my new skin, new identity and ripping off the scarlet letter and shame of divorce, now I have discovered that somewhere along the way I became a "single mom."

As head of household and a mom to a child who plays soccer, my working status disqualifies me from being called a "soccer mom". There's also "Working Mom" - would I be happy with this label I have asked myself? I belonged to Mothers Against Drunk Drivers when I was just single and not even a mother. I've always been envious of the "Stepford Moms" of my daughter's classmates and my friends who are fortunate enough to be "Stay-at-Home Moms". Nonplussed at their labels, some don't seem to be happy with their lot in life either. As I think of all these labels for the moms I know, another one comes to mind "Super Mom," because most of the moms I have mentioned are super when it comes to juggling their responsibilites at home, at work and with their children.

In discussing this with one of my college roommates, she candidly asked me if I had a chip on my shoulder. Honestly, I could answer "Yes." In the midst of my divorce, another friend loaned me a copy of the book "The Courage to be a Single Mother". I tried to read it, but wasn't quite ready yet to open the door on self-help and self-discovery. After seeing that the author had remarried and had more children, the book has been collecting dust under my nightstand. At this point in my life it seemed the choice to remarry would take more courage.

When some think of the term "single mom" does it bring to mind women who dump their kids off on baby-sitters and head off to "singles" bars? This "single mom" can't even afford a babysitter nor would I want to employ their services. The only bar you will find me near is at my daughter's dance studio picking her up from ballet lessons. You can also find me standing behind the chain link fence on Saturday's at my daughter's tee-ball games, because I'm her cheerleader. You will find me trolling the aisles at Target for household goods, because I'm also a consumer. You will find me teaching Sunday School to kindergarten and first graders, because I'm also a Christian. And you will find me in jury box of my "peers", because I am also a voter (Although guess which local judical candidate I won't be pulling the lever for?)

So next time you disdainfully label a single mom and pity her or discount her because she isn't married or is divorced, forget about it and while you are at it - don't treat her as if she is a second-class citizen. She may be an administrative assistant, a sales manager, a waitress, an executive, a college professor, or even a physician. She's more like you than you think, washing dishes, cooking dinner, helping with homework, paying the bills and trying to make her mark in this world by being a good mother to her children and working hard to insure that they have a great life.

I like to think of myself as just a "mom". I know that when I die, my headstone will not be emblazoned with that of what society has decided to label me, but instead defined by how the one person I love the most chooses to define me. And that would be simply "Mom".