Another Threshold

Single motherhood has been much harder than I'd anticipated. Honestly, I don’t know what I thought it would be, but I definitely wasn’t prepared. At the time, all I could focus on was getting away from the temper tantrums and constant criticism. That felt like survival, and I still think it was.

What I didn’t understand when I left was what it would actually cost to build a life on my own. Not just financially, although that’s been a shock in itself, but mentally and logistically. The constant decision-making and crisis management. The lack of backup.

I’m still learning how to manage all of it. Some days I avoid it. Some days I face it. Most days it feels like I’m wandering without a map.

For a while, I stopped writing. I told myself I didn’t have the energy, or the clarity, or anything useful to say. The truth is, I've been feeling down. Stretched thin. And it was easier to stay in bed than to try to make something out of what felt like a mess.

One of my bigger struggles, one that casts its shadow over most of my life, is finances. Mine are not adding up. So today was my last day of a job that wasn't providing enough hours or stability. I enjoyed teaching online, and it served its purpose for a while, but I couldn't sustain my family on it.

On Monday, I start something new and full-time, a residential school. More structure. More demand. More unknowns. And if I’m being honest, I'm scared.

I think part of my fear comes from how many transitions I’ve already been through. When you go through enough of that, even the right next step doesn’t feel steady. It feels like another drop. Another thing you have to adjust to while already tired.

I suppose somewhere, there is a version of this story where everything builds cleanly and makes sense. This, mes compadres, isn’t that version.

This is the version where, once again, I leave something I cannot stay in, and I’m still figuring out what comes after. Once again, I paused and endured longer than I meant to. Once again, I don’t feel ready, but I also don’t have the option to stand still. So I’m doing something.

In this latest moment of transition, I’m starting the job, I’m writing this blog post, and I’m trying to re-enter my own life in small, deliberate ways instead of waiting to feel better first. I don’t know exactly how things will go. I don’t know if I’ll have the stamina for it right away. I don’t know when things will start to feel stable.

What I do know is that I’m going forward. Again.