My Single Mother Made It Look Easy

But my marriage suffered because of it

“What were you thinking?” asks my marriage counselor.

“I felt grateful,” I say. “I was raised by a single mom and my life is so much easier than what she experienced. She did it all and honestly, she made it look easy.

My mother was an incredible role model.

But unfortunately, she taught me to do it all and I did.

I didn’t even think to demand much of my husband.

To put it in perspective, I was married but operating as a woman on my own. Of course, there were some exceptions but day to day I knew not to get in my husband’s way.

It was my job to operate independently of him.

“You’re a big girl and I’m a big boy,” he would say. “I don’t ask anything of you and you don’t ask anything of me.” Back then I used to say he wasn’t a good candidate for marriage. It was too late, we had already walked down the aisle.

In my anti-doormat defense, he used being self-employed as a MAJOR excuse.

It was hard to argue with especially since I worked with him.

But in truth, the big boy was asking me to cook, clean, care for our kids, and handle the administrative duties of marriage. He was also asking me to work in the office and run business errands like going to the bank and the post office.

He was gone before our children got up and home just before they went to bed. He didn’t concern himself with auto repairs, bills, or home life. He didn’t want to paint the baby’s dresser or fix the wall.

His self-mandated job was to go to work.

He called it a traditional marriage, at the time I bought it hook, line and sinker.

In the summer I would head to the Jersey Shore.

My husband who worked on the school calendar spent two months home alone. He enjoyed baseball games, golf, and poker. He didn’t have work, a wife, his children, or even our dog to occupy his days.

Surprisingly, it never occurred to him to get in the car and live with his family.

The Shore seemed like a luxury despite having two children under two and our Golden Retriever. I would lug them and the porta-crib to the beach where one would get sand in their eyes or cry that they wanted to go home and I’d haul it all back. At night, bedtime was hours long because they couldn’t get to sleep in a different place.

“I wanna go back to my brick house,” my Tommy would say.

My husband would visit on the weekends. Of course, he thought I sounded spoiled. And he said things like, “Must be nice!” “You have the life.” But I was lonely without him and I didn’t know anyone down there at the time.

Not to mention, as a new parent with two under two I was on my own. I wasn’t enjoying the beach. I was barely on it because it was more work than being at home with my babies.

Nonetheless, I did feel spoiled.

And the more my husband said it the more I believed it.

I’m not sure why I didn’t say, “What husband is off and alone all summer?”

Dare I throw the ‘spoiled’ word his way. He was the self-anointed busy man. And just like he repeatedly insisted I was indulged, he constantly stated how busy he was.

I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking?

Listening to his words rather than his actions.

One day, I finally woke up. I was frustrated after one of our first marriage counseling sessions. My husband looked at our therapist and said, “Can you believe she has me driving the kids here and driving the kids there?”

We get in the car and I am utterly shocked.

“What were you thinking saying something like that?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s old school,” says my husband.

Somehow he believes the age of our therapist means he will relate to the poor overworked man. The bitchy wife is asking too much. She’s demanding and unreasonable.

“He’s a marriage counselor,” I say. “You think he’s a good ole boy who will look at relationships through your skewed lens? What you said was arrogant and archaic.”

Sure enough, the session arrives when I’m asked…

“What were you thinking?” Followed by, “You never asked anything of your husband.”

I was thinking my life was easy. Far easier than my strong single mother endured. She had set the bar high. She didn’t complain she rose to the occasion. She felt stressed and worried about money but she defied the odds. She was successful.

And she made it clear we were her greatest joy in life.

She was brave, beautiful, multi-talented, outgoing, spiritual, smart, independent, resourceful, a problem solver, and she never once let us down. Even though at times, it must have felt like she had a dozen jobs.

She was never too busy for us.

She would sew the costume we needed, bake the cookies, any last-minute thing we demanded of her. All while working two jobs and going to school in a time few women raised children alone.

I didn’t have anywhere near her full plate nor her financial concerns.

One day my friend and I were marveling how some new moms were struggling.

She had been raised by a single mother too. We were up, dressed with hair and makeup, our houses were clean and organized, our children were fed, bathed, and in pajamas by the time our husbands got home. We didn’t ask them to get up in the middle of the night, make dinner, or run out to buy diapers and formula.

It didn’t occur to us to ask for help.

Worse, we both admitted we took pride in being able to ‘do it all.’

Other women were asking for assistance.

Even stay-at-home moms sought alternating breaks getting up with the baby, getting them dressed for the day or bathed at night, dinner made or takeout brought home, late-night supply runs, help with cleaning the house, or days off to help with doctors appointments or sick children.

At the time, I won’t lie, I mistakenly interpreted this as needy.

It’s embarrassing for me to admit that because it’s insulting to them.

But here’s the thing, they’re all still happily married. They were right and I was wrong. They had boundaries. It’s okay to say you can’t do it all. It’s okay to ask for help. That’s what marriage is. That’s what parenting is. It takes two.

I was too independent and I married a man who allowed me to take on too much.

We didn’t have a traditional marriage.

One person believed since they went to work and made money, the other should do nearly everything else. Even things a man would typically do.

My husband used ‘money’ to define being spoiled.

But there are many forms of indulgence. Like a busy man who works approximately nine months a year with few personal responsibilities. One who married a woman who could do it all.

Because she had been incredibly privileged.

Spoiled beyond words.

Raised by a single mother who made love look easy.

Galit Birk, PhD You inspired this story by the incredible example you are setting for your own children. You reminded me of my own mother’s seemingly effortless sacrifices in the name of love.