Salutations! My name is Jessica and I happily, tirelessly, as well as bravely raise my almost-two-year-old son alone. When asked to share about myself I felt a twinge of discomfort; I cannot stand this question during interviews. I cannot capture who I am in a small paragraph, but I hope to show you over time.
I never intended to serve as a lone parent… I was married for 15 years before my ex-husband packed a back pack and never truly came back. I also lived as the antithesis of my ideals of strong womanhood. I always bragged I would leave any man who left me, cheated on me or abused me in anyway. Instead, when faced with these very issues, I pined, whined and consistently put myself back into a turbulent tornado of trauma for myself despite my better knowledge. I had to learn to not confuse the head and the heart in order to become a stronger, resilient, and courageous parent.
In addition, I passionately educate extremely at-risk youth in the Department of Corrections. My heart belongs in two places: with my son, Holden, and with the hundreds of youth I interact with as an educator. I feel incredibly honored to work in the field I do, sharing my hard-earned wisdom. After a brief hiatus from teaching and a long struggle to become a parent I can affirm I was born to nurture as teacher and as a mother.
Lastly, I’m intense. And quirky. For instance, I am a feeler. I feel all the feelies so incredibly, I swear emotions can seep from my pores. And I share those feelies…for whatever it’s worth, I do. Sometimes I share too often or with too much ease, and other times I lock the true, gritty stuff away until I can face it with less of a heavy heart. There is a reason an unrequited love once told me he “digs my soul;” my soul stands as my greatest intrapersonal and interpersonal asset. I am outgoing and vivacious. I love to belt out Disney songs, sing classroom directions, and coo lullabies to my Nugget everyday. I wear goofy socks that look like pencils and I try to buy shirts long enough to justify wearing leggings daily. I talk entirely too loud and relish my morning makeup routine cozy in my white robe, coffee, and random Pandora stations. I dye my hair red as homage to Ariel and my love for the ocean; if I was 12 I’d have a Little Mermaid bedroom. My toes are always painted to coincide with the seasons and I try my best to eat healthfully but cheese and chocolate seem to thwart my efforts.
Aside from all that, I am a mother. The kind that worries how to pay the bills, maintain tense familial bonds for my son, and sneak undetected vegetables into dinner. I’m a mother who dreads the morning rush, fits of gargantuan proportions, and long nights with a teething toddler. I envy mothers who have partners, parents, or just PEOPLE who can help so they can get to an appointment or go tanning on a Tuesday. I cringe when I am asked about future children, my future husband whom I haven’t met yet, and how easily some people think they can identify with me. I am ready to write to share my journey. I plan to write about the realities I face, the turbulence of parenting alone, and the deeply rewarding aspects of being Holden’s mama. That’s the plan. Deep breath, Jessica. Blogging begins now.