On March 29 of 2013, my ex-turned-co-parent and I welcomed the birth of a beautiful, bouncing baby girl who would change both of our lives very quickly. Though I always thought becoming a single parent was a fate just slightly worse than death, the past two years have been an incredible journey for me—one that’s lonely and overwhelming at times, but always worth it.
I decided early on that I wouldn’t allow single parenthood to be the end of Jamilah. My career ambitions, my interest in men and sex (yes, sex… I said sex and I meant it), and my relationships with my loved ones would shift to revolve around this magical girl child, of course. But I was not willing to sacrifice everything that made me who I was prior to becoming pregnant for the sake of this child.
It isn’t that she’s not worth it; rather, I didn’t feel I could be a good mom if I was a miserable shell of myself. I’ve observed long-suffering single moms and 1) eww, I’m too fly for that, and 2) I couldn’t see that making for a healthy, happy relationship to my child.
