Being a mom to just one daughter, and doing it at 33, sounds simpler on paper than it is in real life. You’d think it’s just about applying common sense, giving love, setting limits. But some days I find myself walking that tricky line: how do I guide her without becoming the voice that weighs her down? She’s nine. It’s a beautiful, intense age where everything is forming, shifting, and feels bigger than it is. And there I am, trying not to come off as the warden of her world, but as someone who walks beside her, still holding her hand.
It’s not easy. There are moments when I have to put on the tough face, even when it hurts me more than it hurts her. Saying “no” when everything in me wants to say “okay, fine” because seeing her happy moves something deep in me. But I’m not just her friend. I’m her mother, her guide, her anchor. And that role demands firmness, decisions that don’t always come with smiles. Motherhood isn’t a list of Pinterest tips. It’s a daily act of balancing duty with the desire to stay close, to be understanding, without giving up the respect that comes with being her parent.
Still, there’s space for whispered secrets before bed, movies wrapped in a blanket, silly laughs that make no sense. We get each other with just a look. We laugh at the same things. And even though there’s a nine-year gap and a line of authority between us, there’s also a bond I won’t let go of. I don’t want to be her best friend — because she can have many of those. I want her to know her mom also listens, understands, and shows up without judgment.
Sometimes, the outside world wants to box us in: “be firm,” “don’t soften,” “a mother isn’t a friend.” But raising a child isn’t about copying a manual — it’s about building your own with what you have and who you are. I’m a single mom, yes, but I’m also a woman who learned not to harden herself in order to raise her daughter. I don’t want to be feared. I want to be respected, loved, and above all, remembered as someone who didn’t just parent, but truly stood by her.
So yes, I’m her mother. But I’m also her ally. Her safe place when the world doesn’t make sense. The one who doesn’t have all the answers but has all the heart to get this right. Because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that there’s nothing more radical than raising with firmness, with tenderness, and with just enough friendship to keep the heart warm without losing direction.
