Why I Didn’t Need a Dad, Thanks to a Brilliant Single Mum
The bond between Mother and Daughter.
My childhood was pretty perfect, besides the day my Dad left when I was eight. That was a swift kick in the heart, but I’m glad he left. I am the person today, because of my Mum.
Mum had one dream; to be a Mother, and she accomplished that at the ripe old age of 22 when she had my oldest brother, followed by my other brother when she was 25, then little ole me at 28.
We grew up as happy little hippies on a farm about fifteen minutes from the nearest country town.
In our backyard (a.k.a. paddock), there was a huge Mulberry tree that my brothers and I climbed and played in for hours having mulberry fights.
We’d race into the house covered in red mulberry juice, our clothes and skin stained, looking like we’d been pulled inside out.
There were dogs, horses, a goat and chickens everywhere.
We played in the creeks.
We picked wild mushrooms in the fields.
We climbed up the water tower.
We rode billy carts and crashed them down the gravel tracks.
We turned haystacks into elephants.
We had the best adventures. I never wanted to leave. To this day, the years on the farm are some of my happiest.
It was magical to me, but after Dad screwed around it was torture for Mum.
Being only eight, I didn’t know this. I didn’t realise she wanted to get away from that place at her first chance. But, in the end, we didn’t have a choice. It was a working farm, and Dad was the caretaker.
No Dad. No farm. No home. Thanks, Dad!
So, within a year of him leaving, Mum packed everything up, and we moved to town.
By the time I turned nine, we had found ourselves in a brand new house courtesy of the State. Although we didn’t have much and without any financial support from Dad (Thanks again, Dad!), Mum made sure we didn’t go without.
But lucky for Mum, we weren’t the most demanding kids in the world.
Though she may have a few memories of her own to debunk this statement.
Early on, when Dad decided he wanted to see us and when I didn’t have a choice, we kids were forced to go stay with him and his new girlfriend.
Even though she turned out to be lovely, it was never an enjoyable experience. I’d cry on the phone, begging Mum to come and pick me up. Dad would get annoyed with me for crying and also beg her to come get me. Which she did.
His new partner had children aged five and seven. The five-year-old girl looked like an elfling with her long, blonde hair, blue eyes and pointy ears.
Well, she was definitely magical because Dad was under her spell. She got all the attention. I was the emotional annoyance.
At ten years old, I couldn’t quite understand why my tooth had to fall out of my head before I got fifty cents, but all she had to do was “be cute” or fart next to him, and she’d get an extra ten. So I learned not to like her much.
I know now that it wasn’t her fault, but I took my confusion and jealously out on her. I’d tease her for wanting to go to bed early (“You’re such a suckhole”, I’d say) or make her feel dumb because she couldn’t play the piano after teaching her.
Of course, I should mention I couldn’t play it either, but she didn’t know that. She was a stupid five year old.
I look back on my behaviour and feel sick about it. I was too young to understand it back then, but she went through the same thing as me. Her Dad had left her and her brother. Her Mum was with my Dad.
Two little girls left in the dark.
From the time we moved, Mum threw herself into raising us. She worked her butt off in a part-time admin job to pay the bills and send us to school. I can’t recall her ever complaining. I’m sure she did, but never in front of us.
She tried to always be home when we got back from school, and when she wasn’t, she was just around the corner. She would cuddle us when we needed it (or when she did). She’d laugh with us and come to every sports day and school event. She was there for everything.
During the first few years of moving into town, I would sneak into her bed when I’d had a bad dream or was scared. The usual reasons a kid wants a parent.
She often slept on her side, with her back facing me. I assumed she was fast asleep and wouldn’t notice my skinny little self rolling in next to her.
It didn’t take long before she’d reach for my hand. I would hold hers until I fell asleep.
She made sure to teach us essential life skills. She didn’t believe in “boy” jobs and “girl” jobs. She raised us to be useful, self-sufficient adults.
Top Tips from Mum to Me
Don’t lie — if you’re known to be a liar, then no one will believe you when you try to tell the truth.
Boys want one thing — don’t be pressured into having sex. If they do pressure you, and you’re not ready, they don’t care about you. If they wait until you’re ready, they care, even love you.
Always have your own money — this provides a sense of independence and prevents you being reliant on others.
Be polite. Be kind — no one wants to be around a rude, mean, A-hole!
We settled into our new routine and home
The house had a large yet-to-be landscaped yard, so Mum set her mind and got sh*t done. Before we knew it, we had a new pergola, plants, lawn, trees, a garden shed and a veggie patch.
I remember waking up in the early hours to a loud crash of metal. Only to discover the new garden shed had been blown through our back fence by a freak gust of wind. Who’s fault was it? My brothers. They hadn’t bothered to cement it in. You had one job, boys!
But Mum being Mum, she got sh*t done, and we had another new garden shed and a brand new fence not long after that.
I know there were times I cried and felt unhappy, mainly due to my brothers teasing or tricking me into doing their chores. But what I remember the most was the laughter and fun we all had.
There was never a time I felt unsafe or underprivileged. On the contrary, our childhood was full of love. Thanks to our Mum, who raised us entirely on her own.
Though I missed the farm, our life in town was just as simple and carefree.
Most weekends and after school, I would ride my bike around with my best friend, as long as I was back before it got dark. You could do that safely back in the 80s.
At the end of our street were paddocks. It didn’t take long before my middle brother, and I continued the games we played on the farm.
We found a river and wrestled the “reed monsters”.
We found a climbing tree and attached the rope ladder we used to climb the water tower.
We rode skateboards instead of billy carts and still fell off on bitumen roads.
We continued to pick wild mushrooms in the fields.
By the end of the second year, we had a plethora of cats (I still don’t know where they came from. They just turned up one day and multiplied) and a little dog named Meg. Who was the light of my life.
I sometimes wonder how my life would have turned out and if I’d be the person I am today if my parents had stayed together.
There’s a strong argument in society that suggests that children need both parents. I’m afraid I have to disagree. It depends on the parent and the child.
Dad was extremely short-tempered and liked to punch the occasional wall, though he never abused any of us physically.
There was one occasion when he smacked my older brother, and my Mum told my Dad that she’d leave him if he ever did that again. So he never did.
It’s funny that she used that as a threat, and it worked, only for him to cheat and break everything apart anyway.
Even when Dad was around, he wasn’t.
I have fleeting childhood memories of him. Only two are happy. I do think Dad leaving affected my brothers more than me.
Dads and sons have a different bond than a Mum and a daughter.
I don’t have any anger toward my Dad. All I have is indifference. Maybe that’s worse. Being only eight when he left may have contributed; was I too young to understand the magnitude?
Either way, I decided early on that if he wasn’t going to make an effort to get in touch or get to know me, I wasn’t either. It’s been over twelve years since I last spoke to my dad, and I’m okay with that.
He wasn’t designed to be a father.
When I look back on my childhood, I think to myself. I was so lucky to have such a dedicated and loving Mum. I am the woman today because of her.
- I’m independent and capable.
- I’m frugal.
- I’m compassionate.
- I enjoy my own company.
- I have a good sense of humour (if I do say so myself).
- I have a healthy self-esteem and a strong sense of self and worth.
- And I never take sh*t from anyone, especially men.
I wish every child in the world were lucky enough to have a mum and a childhood like mine. But unfortunately, I know that’s not always the case, and many end up in horrific and neglectful situations.
Suppose you haven’t been lucky enough to experience this type of love or dedication. In that case, I hope you find it in another relationship one day because every person has value and deserves to be loved.
P.S. Thanks Mum.
I would love to hear what your childhood was like. Let me know in the comments.
