Growing Up With A Single Parent Essay

Growing up in a household full of girls with a single mother, I learned how to be strong and independent. My mother was never really the type of mother to be affectionate, she had more of a tough love point of view. I was always expected to get the best grades I could possibly have along with being focused and determined to go to college which most of my family did not do. My mother taught me how to always be respectful and have good manners especially when it came to other adults. From the age of 5, I was doing chores in the house, and setting goals for my future.

What makes a child an orphan? There could be multiple ways a child ends up being parentless. Here is a story of one of the probable events. I was born in the poorest of countries. The government was corrupt and its leader was a dictator. You did not worry about what you were going to wear or even eat, for today would have been a struggle within itself. After all, how can I find space in my heart for love, if it is filled with anger? Through all my struggles and trials, I have learned to cherish the happy moments and forgive those who done me wrong.

The moment I realized that my dad was not going to be in my life was when I wrote him “that letter.” My dad had went to jail, and at that time I still fought for my relationship with my dad. In the letter I basically informed him that everything was going to be alright. God was going to bring him out of every situation, and many more words of encouragement. Our relationship had been somewhat okay, I visited him in jail and of course you know how things go with certain people. They tell you that whenever they get out, they’re going to be a better person, he’s going to continuously be a part of me and my brothers lives. So what do you think happened? That shit never happened. I think that’s what had hurt the most. Because I literally gave so much into that letter, and for you to continuously lie to me and tell me that you’re going to do something and you don’t is pretty fucked up. Because even when people were beginning to give up on him, I was the only one being positive and trying to give him a chance and be there for him. I just don’t understand how you can just look someone in the face and feed them all this bullshit and then you don’t make the effort to make anything happen. But I guess that’s why it’s called

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

I remember as a young boy all I wanted was a real relationship with my father. He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me. I can remember every other day begging my mom to call him and ask if I can go over. I began to realize he was not making time for me, and thought why make time for him(not that I am bitter; I have forgiven him for it all...I just can never forget). As I grew I looked to Kenneth to be my father figure, and it had to be God’s plan because he was there whenever I needed him most. But, then we moved to Texas.

As a child, I was quiet and withdrawn. I taught myself to read when I was three, and spent most of my time reading instead of playing with other children. I understood very early that I was different from others at school. I didn’t have to pay for lunch, something I found (and to be honest, still find) completely mortifying. My father was almost never home, always trucking all over the country in an effort to keep our family afloat. When other kids talked about their dads in school, I often found myself feeling jealous. I, too, wanted a dad who could teach me how to ride a bike or throw a ball. I also understood that it was impossible for me to have that, because my father worked around the clock to keep my family from going hungry. I realized that in order to achieve the things that I wanted to, i would have to take the initiative and do it myself. I borrowed my sister’s bike (although it was much too tall for me to use comfortably), and I practiced riding it until i knew i was better at it than any other 7 year

Canada's child care policy has always been a topic of heated debate. Presently, Canada is one of the only developed countries worldwide that does not have plan in place for nation wide child care (Hurtig, 2002). Howe & Covell (2007) state that "Canada has failed to make progress toward a system of universal high quality early learning and child care or even toward establishing widespread access to high quality programs" (p.47). According to Campaign 2000, early childhood education programs are an essential component in reducing poverty and providing children with the ’best start in life”. In addition to reducing poverty, early childhood education programs "strengthen the foundations of learning for all children, supports the social

When I was a child, every time I saw my mother crying and hurting from all the abuse induced by her husband, the person who was supposed to protect her, I ask God, why? I never received an answer. As the abuse continued and life went on, I was never able to forgive him for the suffering that he caused not only to my mother, but to me as well. I was carrying all the miseries from my childhood and taking out on the people who love and care for me. There was no closure for the pain and suffering. The only person that I saw comfort and security from was my father, a man who never allowed me to pity myself or blame myself for other's actions. He was always there for me until my eighteenth birthday when he decided that I was “old enough to be on my own;” it was his own way to attempt making me independent. Everything became blurry at that point in my life. There was nowhere to turn except the only person who had the opportunities in her eighty years to master the meaning of true forgiveness: my grandmother, Consuelo, which her name literally means to console. Living with her and listening to her life stories allowed me to comprehend

At first I thought fathers protect you, help you, and love you, but I never knew that they ignore you for beer or even abandon you with a lie… a simple lie. To leave you, your Mom and sibling … hopeless. That was my darkest time of my life, or was it?

And he hasn’t made a visible effort to contact me. I remember when I was little and thought that my father could do no wrong. He walked on water and it was always my mother that was the so-called “bad guy.” It never clicked in my mind that he could be human and make mistakes. There is a book by a man named Herzog titled Father Hunger: Explorations with Adults and Children. After eighteen years of being raised by a single mother, I relate to this book; I now realize that many aspects in this book describe me. The term “Father Hunger” means “the unconscious longing experienced by many males and females for an involved father (source 1).” That said, I can now see that during the limited, short amounts of time I’d spent with my father as a child, I was yearning, hungering for his approval and acceptance. That acceptance and approval was never received though. Maybe becoming a father at seventeen years old was too much to handle. Maybe now he is trying to live out his stolen youth. I can’t hold that against him. However, I will always be bitter that my mother never got that

The journal article is talking about the difficulties which the single-parent families facing, such as emotional problems, housing stress and financial stress. It generated different viewpoints from different literature, and suggested an approach to meet the needs of single-parents.

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was

My parents divorced when I was five, so I was raised in a single parent home by my mother. My aunt and mother both instilled in me what it means to be a strong, independent, God fearing woman. From the time I was born I attended church regularly, praise dancing and singing in the choir. Being able to touch someone while ministering the word of God is one of the greatest privliges I’ve had.

Being raised by a single father since I was five years old, you could say that I had a lot of ups and downs throughout my childhood. With my father in the military I was shuffled around frequently between family members when he would be stationed over-seas and was unable to take me with him. As I grew older, I became accustomed to being by myself and put myself into a closed-off shell, which led to becoming socially awkward and an outcast amongst my peers throughout my adolescence and adulthood. Going through school I was picked on and ridiculed for being shy and antisocial, which unfortunately led to me dropping out of before graduating high school.

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.