Parenting
I met my ex-spouse during his college years while I was fully immersed in my career. One night, as we shared laughs and a few too many margaritas with friends, he brought up an old high school essay he had written. It was about the benefits of having a stay-at-home mom. He grew up with one, as did I. “I’ve always wanted a wife who could stay at home with our kids. I’d be perfectly fine with her working, but I want to provide for our family so she can choose to be home,” he said.
Honestly, this was incredibly appealing to me. From a young age, I dreamed of becoming a mother and staying home with my children. Hearing him express that desire made my heart race with excitement at the thought of starting a family.
We got married, bought a house, and welcomed children into our lives at a rapid pace. I loved my role as a stay-at-home mom, and he thrived as the provider. Everything seemed perfect—until it wasn’t.
While being a stay-at-home parent was my dream, I had no clue how much it would impact my self-esteem when I stopped receiving paychecks. I was married for 16 years, and for 15 of those, I didn’t work. Before I left my job, I was the primary breadwinner. I had the freedom to buy my own car, pay for our wedding from my savings, and treat myself to new clothes without a second thought.
But then, that independence vanished. Rather than feeling empowered, I began to feel like I needed permission for every purchase because I wasn’t earning a salary. This was mostly a mindset I developed on my own; my ex never insisted I ask him for anything. Over time, I internalized the belief that because I hadn’t been earning, I didn’t deserve to treat myself.
Restlessness began to creep in. I wanted more from my life. My identity became entwined with being a wife and mom, but deep down, I felt guilty for yearning for something beyond that. After all, I was free from work stress and long commutes.
But I craved personal growth. I missed working, missed being recognized for my contributions, and missed the financial independence I once had.
I never imagined I would face divorce. Not before marrying my husband, not after our memorable conversation over dinner, and certainly not after welcoming three beautiful children into the world. Yet, it happened, and I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I would be.
Now, I understand that I could have nurtured my career while being present for my children—the two paths aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, I’m doing that now because I have to. More importantly, I want to, and it feels fantastic.
I feel liberated and in control of my life once again. I enjoy shopping without guilt, knowing I can afford what I want. I love contributing to my retirement savings, ensuring a secure future for myself and my children.
Experiencing the helplessness of not generating my own income was eye-opening. That feeling intensified when my marriage began to deteriorate.
Had I focused on my career earlier, I could have alleviated so much worry. Not only would I have enjoyed the financial benefits, but I would have also been a better mom. With a full-time career now, I can confidently say I’m a better parent. I’m happier, more fulfilled, and my confidence has soared. I no longer feel like just a caretaker. My anxiety has diminished, and I revel in the knowledge that I can support my family independently.
If I had maintained my career, it would have served as a safety net. I was someone who never considered the possibility of being a single parent, which is why I let my career slip. I thought my marriage would last forever, and when it ended, I was completely blindsided.
Now, I’m determined to always earn my own money, regardless of who I may meet in the future. I will support myself and my children, and I will continue investing in myself. I now realize that “til death do us part” is not a guarantee, and while I remain open to love, I have learned to be humble and self-reliant.
Ultimately, the peace of mind that comes from being able to care for myself makes me a better mother. That’s what truly matters.