Single parenting is sometimes just a case of sitting around by

In the words of Simon Van Booy, the poet of broken yet luminous truths, we hear this confession: “Single parenting is sometimes just a case of sitting around by yourself in mild despair, not knowing what to do.” These words, though simple, reveal the hidden burden borne by those who walk the path of raising children alone. They do not cloak the struggle in false glory, nor do they drown it in endless lament. Instead, they shine a light on the quiet battlefield where one parent stands, weary yet unyielding, before the weight of both mother and father, nurturer and guide.

The ancients often spoke of heroes who fought dragons or endured storms. But there are dragons that wear no scales, and storms that leave no shipwreck—only silence in the home, and a parent staring at the walls in exhaustion. Despair, as Van Booy names it, comes not always in thunder, but in the slow erosion of strength, the endless decisions made without counsel, the nights spent doubting whether one has done enough. Yet even in this mild despair, there is a paradox: for the very act of enduring it proves the parent’s courage.

Consider the tale of Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi brothers in ancient Rome. Widowed, she raised her sons alone. When other matrons boasted of their jewels, she pointed to her children and declared, “These are my treasures.” Surely, there were nights when Cornelia too sat in silence, uncertain of the path, fearful of the world that awaited her sons. Yet through her steadfast devotion, she raised men who shaped Rome’s destiny. Her story teaches us that even in solitude, the hand of a single parent can ripple through history.

Van Booy’s words also unveil the sacred truth that strength is not always the absence of weakness, but the choice to rise again in the midst of it. To admit to not knowing what to do is no failure—it is the essence of humanity. For in that moment of uncertainty, the parent is still present, still loving, still trying. And what greater gift can a child receive than a love that endures confusion, yet remains?

The lesson for our time is clear: let no single parent believe that their solitude is proof of insufficiency. To feel despair is natural; to continue despite it is divine. Just as the oak grows deep roots in storms, so too do single parents forge resilience in their children, teaching them courage not through perfection, but through persistence. A child raised in such soil learns that strength does not mean never faltering, but standing again when faltering comes.

What, then, must be done? First, let single parents not isolate themselves in their sorrow, but seek the circles of kin, friends, and community, for even the lone warrior fights best when upheld by others. Second, let them forgive themselves the moments of uncertainty, for no map exists for every choice in parenthood. Third, let them cherish the small triumphs: a smile at breakfast, a story before sleep, a shared laugh in the midst of chaos. These small lights pierce the shadow of despair, proving that love is alive even in silence.

O children of the future, if you are born of single parents, honor them. Remember that they bore the weight of two with the body of one, that they gave from their emptiness and still found a way to fill you. And if you walk this path yourself, know that you are not alone in your solitude. Across time and history, others have sat in the same stillness, and out of that stillness grew lives of beauty, wisdom, and strength.

Thus, let us take Van Booy’s words not as lamentation, but as testimony. Yes, single parenting is sometimes despair, but it is also quiet heroism. It is proof that love, even weary, even uncertain, is still enough to raise a soul. And so the teaching endures: when you do not know what to do, do not turn from the child—stay, endure, love. In that simple act, though the world may not see it, you have already done enough.