Incredibly grateful. That’s the mood.

I was terrified to be a parent. I knew without a doubt I could love my daughter hard and give her my heart but I didn’t think I could have the energy to be present. I thought I might be one of those moms who are always laying down. Not because of depression or lack of desire but because I had suffered from constant chronic fatigue and endless migraines. You have to understand, I missed so much school in high school that every year I had to write my principal and the board a letter requesting not to make me repeat a grade and explaining the cause of my extensive absences, and I had to get all of my teachers to sign it with their stamp of approval. After I had Evelynn, I was subbing and couldn’t wake up to sub more than 3 days in a row without coming down with a migraine from exhaustion. I’d spend the next 36 hours or so sleeping. It was dreadful.

I worried endlessly about a career I could juggle with single parenthood. Until Evelynn, there was a reason I stuck with serving—it worked for me to sleep, I didn’t take the job home with me, it required little to no functioning. It wasn’t until we found out I had Celiac Disease and I learned how much working out daily helps that I improved and did basically a 180 with my health—I now average less than 6 hours of sleep most nights, little to no fatigue (unless obvious overexertion), and migraines minimized 95 percent I’d guess.

And then there’s the other part: I am adamant about believing I do NOT have it harder than any other parent, single or not. Some days it gets really difficult to believe but I refuse to go down that road. I am not special. I am not the only single parent. I am not the only parent. There are plenty of others in similar or way worse situations—let’s be real clear and honest about that fact. I have it pretty damn good.

Reality is it’s still frustrating when folks don’t get that single parenting as the sole parent is tough. No, I can’t drop things to go out. No, I don’t have “half the days off a month” to date. No, I don’t have someone else who can pick her up from school because she’s sick. No, I don’t have someone else who can get her around in the morning because I’m running late. Everything is on me—the school events and extracurriculars, the finances, the cleaning, the nurturing. I play best friend and parent. I play both parents.

I love her hard enough so she never doubts she is less for having only one parent routinely around.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Seriously, I always feel like I’ve suddenly lost a part of me on those weekends she goes to my parents without me. Might not be often but damn, shit hits hard. (I swear I’m not a helicopter parent.)

I am no supermom. I don’t mind if Evelynn thinks I am but I don’t want to be anybody’s goals simply because I might have it hard. I know I have it hard. You can respect me for it but it’s only my reality, not yours. Your reality is yours, and your only goal should be to make it work, make your dreams happen, make the best of your situation.

The difference between me and others, though, isn’t because of my single parent status, it’s because of my mindset. I refuse to settle. I refuse to give up.

Whether I had Evelynn or not, my reality would still be me pushing forward, working for more, consistently showing up for me.

I can account for every moment of my day. I act with intention. I make things happen for me and my daughter. I don’t believe in complaining about things we don’t have or our struggles when I can work at changing them. I have the power (98 percent of the time) to grow and make changes.

And then there’s the reality we can’t always control things. I shared my fear of parenting due to health issues and support—I wasn’t sure I could keep or find a job with my life. Single parenting is hard and you never feel so alone as a parent until you’re taking all the days off work for both your illnesses and your kids, even if it’s just the flu. You never feel so alone until you have to fit in the groceries, the bill paying, the dinner cooking, the workouts, the cleaning, the drop-offs and pickups, the extracurriculars, the bedtime stories and tuck-ins, the early morning wakeups and midnight calls. And then the actual work for an income. It’s stressful. There’s no one to fall back on. I have an extremely supportive family but my life is not their responsibility. I’m pretty adamant about that, too.

So why do I refuse to recognize myself as having it “harder” than other parents? Because their situation isn’t mine. I think parenting in general comes with some hiccups and difficulties. It’s a road only you can travel. Every child is different, every household is different. It’s the entire reason for the nature vs. nurture debate. We can’t depict how one’s upbringing effects one’s life. So how we can say single parents with 100% custody have it harder? I simply have different obstacles to overcome than others. We’re still all in the same battle of raising littles.

The benefits: I raise her. I make the decisions. I don’t have to consult with a partner currently. I have the freedom to raise her how I choose—there’s no room for varying upbringing beliefs that I have to take into consideration.

But I also own all the failures. And I’m good with that.

I have been profoundly blessed in finding two jobs over the last few years with leaders who support me. Who instead of immediately looking at a piece of paper and take me to the chopping block, will ask me what is going on and how can we make it work? What do I need from them to be successful and balance everything? Often times that has included taking odd hours or working from home. Sometimes, it’s just being given a little grace.

My daughter comes first with everything, the balancing act of recognizing when that means I show up for her versus when that means working towards building a life for us, is the tricky part. I’m still learning this balance. But I always tell her why and we communicate.

Thursday was Evelynn’s costume parade at her school. Of course, I didn’t find out about it until the day before. She had already scolded me once before for missing some activity in class in September where most of the parents had come to class to participate—it was a 1-on-1 volunteer. I didn’t feel the need to volunteer when they had said they had enough. Evelynn of course thought otherwise.

Evelynn didn’t see me during the parade but I saw her. She was ashen. She was so white in the face I couldn’t tell if she had been extremely upset and scared or if they had put makeup on her. She ran right by me—she hates being put on display in front of a large group of people she doesn’t know. Like every parent, sibling, grandparent, and faculty of the school. When I showed up to her class after to snag a photo and tell her hi/goodbye and grab a kiss, she IMMEDIATELY lit up. Instant color to her face. It was amazing—shocking and eye-opening, too.

I didn’t stay for the Halloween party—balancing act, remember?—but she understood.

So Thankful. That is how I felt all of Thursday and since. That I was able to text and email my bosses late Wednesday night and request 2 hours off Thursday morning to see Evelynn’s parade.

We’re all balancing something. This happens to be mine—and I love mine despite all the struggles and unknowns.