The Biggest Lessons You Learn Being Raised By A Single Mom

Growing up, things were never easy. Our household consisted of coupon cutting, sporadic family time, and a lot of rushed meals. My mother worked full-time, 6-days a week, and my sisters and I were all at different stages of our life, academically and socially. We were a tight-knit gang of 4—supporting each other every step of the way, but I’d be lying if I said things were easy.

There were times where I answered the phone and the bank was calling about money owed, times when I needed money for a school trip and the funds just weren’t there, times when I woke up in the middle of the night and heard my mom crying, quietly in her room. There were memories that I look back on and wonder if there were things I could have changed. But, there are traits and lessons I have learned, throughout the years, that made me realize that growing up with a single mother was the biggest blessing I could have been given.

 

How to manage my money.

My mother worked very hard to make sure that my sisters and I had everything we needed. But, working on a single income in New York City with three kids is not easy. In fact, my mom had to budget the sh*t out of her paycheck every single month to make sure she had enough to cover rent, food, electric, clothes, extracurricular funds, etc. Everyone in my family laughs and calls my mom the “bargain hunter,” but, she’s taught me the value of always looking for a less-expensive route in all that I do. Now, as an adult who has moved out on my own, I’m always looking for sales, looking at circular fliers, and trying to get everything for the lowest price possible. In the end, it only pays off—literally.

 

 

30 Things We Thought That Only Rich People Could Afford Growing Up

Most kids don’t know a ton about money. They do tend to know when their families don’t have it, but they don’t typically have a very good grasp of the difference between (upper) middle class and super wealthy.

Twitter user and makeup artist Samantha Ravndahl asked people to share what they thought “was the pinnacle of wealth” to them as kids. Her question got a lot of attention, with people coming through with all sorts of answers from brand name snacks to actual boats. Now that we’re adults, some of the ideas we had about “rich” as kids turned out to be less than accurate, but some of them still hold up (like that boat).

https://twitter.com/SsssamanthaaMUA/status/1109336973217431553

Ravndahl started off with her own idea of true wealth as a child: chrome spinner rims on cars.

https://twitter.com/SsssamanthaaMUA/status/1109337120085176320

And here are 30 other people’s ideas of being stinking rich when they were kids.

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https://twitter.com/AztechDan/status/1110231378279481346

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https://twitter.com/sibyls_makeup/status/1109341392600551424

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h/t: Petty Mayonnaise, @SsssamanthaaMUA

No Parents, No Joke: Why ‘Daddy Issues’ Aren’t Funny

We’re a part of a generation who is heavy set on the “blame-game.” We have become dependent on placing negative attention elsewhere. For example, a student fails a test? Obviously, it’s the teacher’s fault. Did you cheat on your ex? She made you mad and you were vulnerable that night. A girl who sleeps around? Apparently, she’s looking for love in all the wrong places. (Chill. Maybe she just enjoys sex. Guys don’t get questioned about it, so why should she?)

But there’s one comment that tags along with this and it never fails to make my blood boil – this is what happens when your dad doesn’t love you. I see picture after picture of young girls doing promiscuous things and the captions are always something along the lines of when your dad doesn’t love you enough, or thank you to all the dead-beat dads. Since when was this a matter worth joking about? Lacking sufficient parental guidance is funny nowadays?

There is an abundance of statistics involving the long-term effects that paternal neglect could have on a child, specifically in this case, a daughter. Father involvement provides females with positive male/female relationships and increased self-respect. One study done on women in their early 20’s shows that “participants expressed difficulties forming healthy relationships with men and they associated these difficulties with their experiences of father absence,” while another study shows that a girl who portrays a higher involvement with her father is less likely to partake in sexual activities before the age of 16.

We need to realize that paternal issues affect men just as much as they affect women. Jokes are always promoting the sexualizing of girls with “daddy issues,” but we neglect to realize that boys without father figures are just as likely to develop certain issues; socially, behaviorally, and emotionally. According to a survey reported by the U.S Census Bureau, “24 million children in America – one out of every three – live in biological father-absent homes.” 1/3 of children grow up without a father. One in three. This DOES NOT exclude boys. Boys with non-active/abusive fathers grow to be more hostile, and more prone to juvenile incarceration. But you don’t see anyone looking at an incarcerated teenager and think “thank god for the dead-beat dads,” do you? No. Because it doesn’t get you laid. And if it gets you laid, I guess it’s okay to joke about.

It’s sad how little we try to sympathize, and how quickly we joke about something that affects people’s lives forever. “Daddy issues” are serious and should never be the joke of slut-shaming. Why, do you ask? Let me explain.

Number 1 – Just because someone is sexually active doesn’t mean she has parental problems underlying her free choice to accept and explore the intimate side of her humanity.

Number 2 – If someone DOES have parental problems, why do we feel the need to judge? I’m sure none of us would want memes portraying our personal problems.

Number 3 – Try to imagine yourself attempting to fill a void, and wind up being the brunt of a joke that took over the generation. It’s not that funny anymore, is it?

Let’s get serious – there’s nothing funny about a broken home. I’m sure this era can survive with some other form of ill-mannered humor. It’s time to put the insensitivity behind us.

This article originally appeared on Unwritten.

I Am Slowly Learning What It Means To Be Okay

I am slowly learning what it means to be okay.

It seemed to be an unfading happiness, a joy that tears could never squelch. An inextinguishable self-love. An indubitably fulfilling life.

“Okay” was a panacea, a remedy for every conceivable personal ill. A life devoid of problems, mental roadblocks, and perpetual sadness. It was health. It was love. It was perfection. It was a journey; extraordinarily simplistic at first appearance, but nearly impossible to reach.

The seemingly perfect “okay” I sought was nothing but a fantasy, an ideal conceptualization awash in a haze of temptingly alluring lies. I am slowly discovering that being okay is an art form, a balancing act, a dance, a marriage of joy and melancholy.

It’s no longer feeling numb in the wake of life’s problems, but never being fully able to reach the glowing warmth of true happiness. It’s an ember that gradually warms the heart but gradually flickers out as the sadness returns to envelop your mind.

It’s refusing to hate your body and your mind, but not fully loving yourself. It’s looking in the mirror, acknowledging your appearance and walking away as you valiantly fight off the negative thoughts that are bound to invade your mind and refuse to let go.

It’s wondering if you should leave your job, but convincing yourself to stay. It’s resolving to make the most of your circumstances instead of seeking a new path. It’s accepting your decision not to move forward without true happiness, but without regret.

It’s resigning yourself to a life of “almost relationships.” It’s constantly bouncing between “single” and “it’s complicated” without constantly thinking about finding “the one.” It’s seeing an influx of engagements and marriages, but no longer wondering when your will find your forever person.

It’s acknowledging that your life proceeds on its own timeline. It’s no longer wishing that you were somewhere else in life, even though you don’t love where you currently stand. It’s attempting not to compare yourself to others, even if you don’t always succeed.
It’s complacency. It’s resignation. It’s acceptance.

It’s feeling caught in a hazy limbo between who you are and who you could become, not seeking out change, but no longer feeling completely numb as you ponder your life choices. It’s feeling joy and sadness in tandem as you reflect on your life. It’s experiencing the contentment that arrives after tremendous pain, the simple sparks of emotion that remind you that you are sentient.

Being okay is embracing the monotony inherent in living. Being okay is knowing that no matter where you are or how you feel, you are enough.

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