It was tough being a single mom. It was tough being in a divorce

Hear the words of Melissa Etheridge, spoken with the raw honesty of one who has endured the storm: “It was tough being a single mom. It was tough being in a divorce with children. Very, very hard.” These words carry no ornament, no disguise. They are simple, but their simplicity is weighty with truth. For they reveal the pain of a life divided, the strength demanded of those who walk alone with children in their care, and the resilience required when love fractures into loss.

To be a single mom is to stand both as mother and father, protector and provider, nurturer and warrior. It is to carry double the burden with half the hands, to bear the loneliness of decision and the exhaustion of constant duty. Etheridge calls it tough because no word is gentler or clearer. It is not merely difficult—it is unrelenting, demanding both spirit and flesh in ways that few who have not walked that path can understand.

The wound of divorce deepens this struggle. It is not only the breaking of bonds between partners, but the scattering of stability for the children who look to their parents for safety. The parent must endure not only their own grief, but the reflection of that grief in their children’s eyes. To carry on in such times requires a heroism quieter than the battlefield, but no less noble. It is the heroism of rising each day despite weariness, of offering love when the heart itself feels broken.

History gives us countless unnamed examples. In every age, when wars took men away, women became the pillars of their homes. In ancient Sparta, the mothers whose husbands and sons marched to battle still carried the weight of household, fields, and family. They did not call it glory—they called it survival. So too in Etheridge’s words, there is no glamour, only the relentless truth that raising children through separation is an act of endurance, one that deserves respect far greater than it often receives.

Yet there is also quiet triumph hidden here. For many single moms, though tested by hardship, discover strength they never knew they possessed. They learn to navigate storms, to weave together love and discipline, to find joy even in scarcity. Their children, though raised in fractured homes, often carry forward resilience and compassion, for they have seen sacrifice lived daily before their eyes. Thus, even in struggle, there is growth, and even in sorrow, there is the seed of renewal.

The sadness lies not in the effort alone, but in the loneliness such parents feel. Society too often celebrates victories that are loud and visible, while overlooking the courage of those who keep going quietly in kitchens and workplaces, in sleepless nights and weary mornings. Etheridge’s voice gives witness to them all, declaring that their path is “very, very hard,” so that others may recognize the invisible heroism of single parents.

The lesson is clear: do not underestimate the strength of those who raise children alone. Honor their burden, and if you are among them, honor yourself. If you are a friend or neighbor, give support, for even a small act of kindness—a meal, a word, an hour of help—can ease a heavy load. And if you are a child of such a parent, know that your parent’s sacrifice is the truest form of love, born not of ease but of endurance.

Thus, the teaching endures: life in the shadow of divorce and the struggle of being a single mom may be tough, but from such trials emerge strength, love, and resilience that shine brighter than comfort ever could. The path is hard, but in its hardness is hidden a nobility that deserves to be remembered, honored, and passed down as a testament to the enduring power of love.