Avoiding the Pitfalls of Martyrdom: Challenges for Single Mothers Post-Divorce/Separation
In a recent conversation with someone close to me, I found myself needing to justify my perspective once again. It's a recurring pattern; I often feel scrutinised, not by men, but predominantly by other women. This tendency stems from my differing views on womanhood and my refusal to adhere to the idea that women should be martyrs. I challenge the notion that motherhood is a monumental sacrifice—it's not.
Being a mother is undoubtedly a privilege, and along with it comes the certainty that we will get it wrong sometimes. However, what's disturbing is how frequently women use motherhood both as an excuse to abandon their personal aspirations and as a weapon to undermine those who dare to pursue their own passions. I believe this is one of the greatest challenges facing women—not merely to gain the support of men but to shatter those deeply entrenched beliefs that so many women cling to. You know the ones about being the good girl, about it being our role to be the caregivers and ensure everyone else is taken care of.
And any woman who doesn't conform to those beliefs? Well, guess who's ready to knock them down? – I write in detail about this in my book, ‘How did I get here?’
Let me put this into context.
The conversation began with a discussion about a mutual acquaintance who's still living with her estranged husband due to a complex and protracted divorce, primarily centred around financial disagreements involving a substantial amount of money and a sizable home. I won't go into the specifics of their situation but you get the picture.
However, what struck me during the conversation was a remark along the lines of 'she has chosen to sacrifice herself and prioritise her kids'—not verbatim, but close enough. It's worth noting that these 'kids' are well into their twenties. In response, I questioned whether it's genuinely about putting the 'kids' first or if there are underlying motives prolonging the situation for over two years – with no end in sight.
And considering that much of my work in life coaching involves women going through similar situations, this is a rather standard question to help provoke deep reflection.
The response I got was,
'well, not everyone will put themselves first, like you did, and get on with their own lives!'— again, not exactly, but that is how it felt to me, especially as it’s not the first time this has been asked.
This was directed at my decision to set up home for myself following my divorce, rather than continuing as usual, minus the husband.
At the time of my breakup, my eldest son had recently married and moved out; the middle one was living in Spain with his girlfriend, and the youngest, who was also in a relationship, was making plans to move out with some friends. All three of my sons were working and mostly independent. Yet here I am, once again, defending my actions!
However, that wasn't the sole reason for my decision.
As I looked around, especially in my own ethnic community, I saw one divorced woman after another clinging to their children for their dear life. I was determined that it wouldn't be my story. Furthermore, I certainly wasn’t raising my sons to be reliant on me for the rest of their lives just so I could feel useful.
Then I was asked, 'what if you’re children weren't ready?'
To which I replied, 'And what if they are never ready?'
It is important to note that ‘Martyr Parenting’ is the main cause of Learned Helplessness, something I wrote about in a previous post.
Let's explore this story a little deeper.
The first thing that strikes me is this notion that women should be martyrs and that a good mother should never prioritise herself. Who came up with this idea? And more importantly, who benefits the most out of this continued theme in our society?
Well, here’s my perspective.
I've always believed that actions speak louder than words, so I've strived to be a strong role model, not just for my sons, but also for my granddaughters.
I spent eight years working hard to earning my degree and then build a career in teaching—not only because I wanted it, but also to provide financial security for my children.
During eight years of studying, raising three children, and working part-time, I managed to establish a successful career and become the primary breadwinner for the family.
For women accustomed to being provided for, this concept may not resonate, and the idea that some of us value independence might pose an even greater challenge. But here's a news flash: many women take pride in their autonomy and ability to stand on their own. I refuse to feel guilty about that just to appease others; why should I?
While I don't ask for recognition or praise, criticism from other women for not always 'putting my children first' strikes a personal chord. Everything I do revolves around my children—they have always been my top priority, even if it doesn't align with others' ideas of what that should be.
Then there’s the idea that a good mother is the one who is at home with her children, cooking, cleaning, and tending to their every need, even when they reach their twenties, thirties, and beyond. So, women like Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Agatha Christie, and Marie Curie cannot possibly have been good mothers, right?
Again, it’s good to look at my piece on Learned Helplessness for more on this.
But there's a more troubling aspect to this conversation: the judgment of my mothering by women who seem unwilling to reflect on their own parenting history, particularly when their children's lives were filled with trauma and instability, at a time when they should have been protected and nurtured.
Perhaps this is precisely why mothers with such histories feel entitled to judge me for embarking on a new chapter of my life at 52, choosing to embrace independence rather than continuing to serve as my grown-up children's caretaker.
I don't carry any guilt because, while I acknowledge I wasn't a perfect parent (who is?), I always gave my best. More importantly, I provided a stable, loving environment for my children, and they had a relatively happy childhood, as much as anyone can hope for.
What's more, I took the necessary steps to work on myself following my divorce, to the extent that I'm now on good terms with my ex-husband, and we share mutual respect despite the end of our marriage.
So, my question remains: why do some women struggle to accept that being a strong, independent-minded woman doesn't diminish one's capabilities as a mother, and when will we stop using our children as collateral damage for our broken relationship?
Before we wrap up, I want to emphasise that I'm not here to judge or suggest that my post-divorce journey is the right one for everyone. Each person's circumstances are different, and it's essential to acknowledge the variety of experiences. However, it's crucial to be honest about our motivations and avoid labelling women with differing views as selfish or wrong.