Listen, Halloween can keep ghosts, goblins, and creepy crawlers in night. At this big grown age, I know the real scares come with a due date. Maybe a warning light, a school message sent at 9:47 p.m., or a grocery receipt long enough to qualify as a novella. 

September was one of those months that felt like it had sixty days instead of thirty. I don’t know if it was the season changing, responsibilities piling up sky-high, or just life out here doing what life does. It was something about this month that tested that last damn nerve I have. There were days when I felt productive. Days I felt pulled together, and completely on top of my game. However, then there were days when just surviving what absolutely had to get done was a full victory.

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As I get closer to four years post-divorce, people keep asking why I am still single. Baby, because I am good on the disappointment. I am not lonely enough to entertain confusion, lower my standards, or make room for somebody who brings nothing but disruption. I fought too damn hard for my peace to slide it across the table just because folks think a woman is supposed to have a man by now. I am not auditioning for companionship, and I am sure as hell not settling just to say I have somebody.

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September is here, and baby, I am walking into this month with my head lifted. My heart is still soft. My feet are planted firm. August tried me in ways I did not even have words for. Between being a Black woman, a mama of two, keeping up with work, school, bills, responsibilities, and still trying to look myself in the mirror and say, 

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August did not ease in gently. It came in heavy. It got comfortable and sat on my chest, and made me feel every single responsibility I have been carrying. Some months teach you through joy, drive, and new beginnings. This one taught me mainly through exhaustion. There was so much pressure. I whispered prayers. 

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I am going to be honest with you like I am talking to one of my close friends. This is the kind of stuff that looks simple from the outside but feels heavy as hell when you are the one living it. When school started, I really tried to find somebody reliable to help me with my kids after school. 

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So, I got paid. Praise God, right? The direct deposit hit then for about thirty-seven seconds, I felt rich. I looked at my balance like, okay girl, we might make it. Then reality strutted in wearing a pair of fuzzy house slippers, sat on my sofa, and said, “Don’t get comfortable, phat.”

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Since this month started, I had to remind myself of something very real. I am not broke. I am in an expensive season of my life. However, let me not sugarcoat this shit like it is some cute little financial lesson wrapped in a bow. I am mentally and emotionally drained. 

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If you found this blog post because you searched for something like new teacher advice, 3rd grade ELA teacher, teacher life balance, or how to survive the school year without crashing out, you are welcome here. Come over and get comfortable. 

Have you ever looked at your phone, seen his name or number because he is no longer a saved contact, and felt yourself get butterflies? You tell yourself that you are not entertaining his bullshit. You remind yourself of the tears. 

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For a long time, driving felt impossible because I had already learned how to build my whole life around not doing it. All I knew was keeping enough money to give somebody gas, catching the RTA bus, ordering an Uber, or walking if the distance looked manageable.

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My younger sister called me out of the blue and said she was at Target in Baton Rouge buying school supplies and wanted to stop by with our mama. The whole thing felt strange as hell. They do not live that far away. So, part of me kept wondering why it took a trip to Target for them to finally come out here. 

The day started with one simple responsibility. I needed to take Alina to get her blood work done. That was the plan. Get in the car. Handle the appointment. Then come back home. For years, that alone would have required checking rideshare prices first. 

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One of the hardest lessons I learned from being a stay-at-home wife and mother of two was how quietly dependence can turn into codependency. Staying home to raise my children was real work. There was somewhere along the way I stopped feeling like an equal partner. 

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For years, I thought a productive day meant checking every box, answering every message, keeping everybody happy, and somehow making it home with enough energy to prepare for tomorrow. You know what I am talking about the kind of schedule that makes your plans place on your calendar look like money and one of your eyes start twitching by 2:00 p.m.

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I knew I was done when asking for a second date started feeling like I was begging for basic effort.

Not groceries. Not money. Not a grand romantic gesture. I am talking about a day, time, a plan, and enough intention to show me I was not the only one trying to keep the connection alive.

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Dating as a single mom is not a sport and many people think they understand until they are living it. From the outside, it can look as if it is “just dating.” However, it comes with schedules, boundaries, childcare, judgment, hope, exhaustion, and sometimes a little bit of excitement that catches you off guard in the best way.

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June pounced all on my chest. I am not even being dramatic. This month had me working summer school. I was trying to keep my head above water. I was still trying to be somebody’s mama, somebody’s employee, somebody’s everything. I did all this while feeling like I was running on fumes with no real place to put the exhaustion down.

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Summer has started, and I am not even about to pretend like I am walking into it all soft, rested, and carefree. I am tired. I am triggered. I am anxious. But I am still trying to make something good out of it because what else am I supposed to do? Just stop living? No.

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Let me go ahead and say it, I am too busy providing to be out here proving a damn thing to anybody. I do not have the time, energy, or patience to be performing for validation. All while I am carrying real life responsibilities every day.

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