That doesn’t sound like such a big deal, but when I got pregnant at 22, it was a pretty big deal. I was in my senior year in college with a 3.92 GPA (highest was 4.0). I was living alone. I had a couple of great jobs. And I was at the peak of my tugs-tugs wooooo-this-is-so-fun party days.
Contrary to what some people might think, though, the babydaddy wasn’t just a random hookup. In fact, we were in a long distance relationship and it just so happened that when I visited him one summer, I ended up getting pregnant. While it wasn’t planned, t wasn’t devastated. I didn’t even cry. I didn’t panic. I didn’t hide it from anyone, either. Although there were some friends who tried to convince me not to have the baby and while my brother told me he felt sorry for me because I had everything going for me, I never thought of not keeping my baby. That wasn’t an option. Despite my mistakes, this baby deserved to live. And so, nine months later, I gave birth to the most beautiful little lady in the world.
While we did get a condo to live together as a little family, we didn’t get married. Why? Because after I gave birth to our daughter in the hospital, I received an inbox message from a girl who had tracked me down. It turns out that while we were away from each other, my boyfriend had been sleeping with this girl. Yes, I found out about this affair on the day that I gave birth, so you have to understand that it wasn’t so easy for me to decide to marry him. I didn’t trust him at this point. Still, I tried to make it work, so that my daughter wouldn’t have to grow up in a broken family.
Fast forward a few more months. We were living together, but he was never home. Despite having a job, he never helped pay for any of the bills. I found myself boiling water from the faucet and putting it in the fridge, so that I would have water to drink because I couldn’t afford to spend money on bottled water. I found myself wondering if there was just one woman he was seeing or several different ones. Still, I was making enough money to survive. We had a roof over our heads. Other people were doing much worse than I was. So I soldiered on. “For our family.”
God knows I could have gone on forever in that kind of setup. I told some of my relatives my troubles, but they told me to swallow my pride and stay with him because I wouldn’t be able to find anyone who would want me because I was “carrying extra baggage”. And I believed them.
But then, one day, I woke up to the sound of our 9-month-old crying in her room and when I opened the door to check on her, I witnessed the babydaddy pull his hand back really high and hit her… and not in any way any father should ever hit his child. It scared me half to death and he promised it would never happen again (“bad day at work”, he said), but it didn’t take long before he hit me, too. When I found myself crying in the bathroom one day, with bruises on arms, begging my friends to come and help me; I knew it was time to get out of there.
Why am I telling such a personal story? Because this is the kind of story that people need to know. When people used to find out I was a 23-year-old single mom, they would immediately judge me and formulate their own stories on why I was a single mom. As a famous person recently said, “Na-ano lang yan.” Hindi. Hindi ako ‘na-ano’.
However, I am a single mom – and I am proud of it. I am proud that I decided to keep my baby at a young age. I am proud that I was strong enough to leave a bad situation. I am proud that I realised that being a single mother isn’t as bad as raising a child in an abusive environment. I am proud that I raised my daughter and provided for her all on my own. And I am proud that I never gave up, no matter how hard things got along the way. If you’re a single mom – regardless of why you might be single – you should be proud, too. Happy mother’s day in advance!
For media partnerships, possible features or other inquiries, you can find answers on our "Frequently Asked Questions" (FAQ) page here - WhenInManila.com/faq
This is a Story of a Single Mother
I am 30 years old and I am a single mother.
That doesn’t sound like such a big deal, but when I got pregnant at 22, it was a pretty big deal. I was in my senior year in college with a 3.92 GPA (highest was 4.0). I was living alone. I had a couple of great jobs. And I was at the peak of my tugs-tugs wooooo-this-is-so-fun party days.
Contrary to what some people might think, though, the babydaddy wasn’t just a random hookup. In fact, we were in a long distance relationship and it just so happened that when I visited him one summer, I ended up getting pregnant. While it wasn’t planned, t wasn’t devastated. I didn’t even cry. I didn’t panic. I didn’t hide it from anyone, either. Although there were some friends who tried to convince me not to have the baby and while my brother told me he felt sorry for me because I had everything going for me, I never thought of not keeping my baby. That wasn’t an option. Despite my mistakes, this baby deserved to live. And so, nine months later, I gave birth to the most beautiful little lady in the world.
While we did get a condo to live together as a little family, we didn’t get married. Why? Because after I gave birth to our daughter in the hospital, I received an inbox message from a girl who had tracked me down. It turns out that while we were away from each other, my boyfriend had been sleeping with this girl. Yes, I found out about this affair on the day that I gave birth, so you have to understand that it wasn’t so easy for me to decide to marry him. I didn’t trust him at this point. Still, I tried to make it work, so that my daughter wouldn’t have to grow up in a broken family.
Fast forward a few more months. We were living together, but he was never home. Despite having a job, he never helped pay for any of the bills. I found myself boiling water from the faucet and putting it in the fridge, so that I would have water to drink because I couldn’t afford to spend money on bottled water. I found myself wondering if there was just one woman he was seeing or several different ones. Still, I was making enough money to survive. We had a roof over our heads. Other people were doing much worse than I was. So I soldiered on. “For our family.”
God knows I could have gone on forever in that kind of setup. I told some of my relatives my troubles, but they told me to swallow my pride and stay with him because I wouldn’t be able to find anyone who would want me because I was “carrying extra baggage”. And I believed them.
But then, one day, I woke up to the sound of our 9-month-old crying in her room and when I opened the door to check on her, I witnessed the babydaddy pull his hand back really high and hit her… and not in any way any father should ever hit his child. It scared me half to death and he promised it would never happen again (“bad day at work”, he said), but it didn’t take long before he hit me, too. When I found myself crying in the bathroom one day, with bruises on arms, begging my friends to come and help me; I knew it was time to get out of there.
Why am I telling such a personal story? Because this is the kind of story that people need to know. When people used to find out I was a 23-year-old single mom, they would immediately judge me and formulate their own stories on why I was a single mom. As a famous person recently said, “Na-ano lang yan.” Hindi. Hindi ako ‘na-ano’.
However, I am a single mom – and I am proud of it. I am proud that I decided to keep my baby at a young age. I am proud that I was strong enough to leave a bad situation. I am proud that I realised that being a single mother isn’t as bad as raising a child in an abusive environment. I am proud that I raised my daughter and provided for her all on my own. And I am proud that I never gave up, no matter how hard things got along the way. If you’re a single mom – regardless of why you might be single – you should be proud, too. Happy mother’s day in advance!
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For media partnerships, possible features or other inquiries, you can find answers on our "Frequently Asked Questions" (FAQ) page here - WhenInManila.com/faq