One Step at a Time

 A Failed Marriage Does Not Mean Failed Motherhood. Tonight, exhaustion weighs heavier than usual. The moving preparations, the endless tasks, the struggle of keeping everything together—it’s all pressing down on me. But what about me? What about the fear sitting in my chest, whispering doubts I don’t want to hear?

I knew this was coming. I knew that once it was just the three of us, I would feel the weight of single motherhood in a way I haven’t before. But knowing and feeling are two different things.

Tonight, the fear hit hard. What if my kids struggle because they don’t have a father figure? What if I can’t give them everything they need? What if, after surviving a failed marriage, I fail at being a mother too?

It’s a terrifying thought—one that makes my exhaustion feel heavier, my worries louder, and my confidence weaker.

But Then I Remember… A failed marriage does not mean failed motherhood. I am not failing my kids by choosing peace over dysfunction. I am not failing them by showing up, even when I’m tired. I am not failing them by creating a home where they are safe, loved, and free.

A father figure isn’t what makes a child whole. Love does. Presence does. Consistency does. And I can give them all of that.

Will this journey be easy? No. Will there be nights I question myself? Absolutely. But I refuse to believe that I am not enough.

Because I am here. Because I care. Because even in my exhaustion, my love remains steady. One day at a time. One step at a time. We’ve got this.