“Long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive.
”I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor
I’ve got my life to live,
And all my love to give, and
I will survive.”
Warning: The following content includes more expressions of disdain and disgust. Reader discretion is advised.
Facing stigma and uncertainty.
I can only imagine how terrified my mother must have been facing the stigma of being a single mother in the early 1970s, while also shouldering the financial responsibility of raising three young girls ages four, six, and eleven. In a society where her worth was tethered to her roles within the family, the thought of leaving her marriage was a daunting leap into uncertainty. Like generations before her, she was socialized to prioritize her role as a wife and mother above her own personal fulfillment or safety. Domestic violence was often overlooked, and with limited support services available, she faced numerous obstacles.
Moreover, societal expectations at that time dictated that women should not pursue their own careers or financial independence, so leaving her marriage was a huge financial risk for herself and her children—especially given the limited opportunities for women in the workforce compared to today.
Hidden secrets.
Yet, amidst these terrifying circumstances, she unknowingly drew strength from the crucible of her childhood where her resilience had quietly been forged. Born during World War II, she embraced the simplicity of a bygone era where her formative years unfolded with unfettered freedom and families embodied solidarity. As the second youngest among eight siblings, her household buzzed with a kaleidoscope of personalities, filling her home with constant banter, affection, rivalry, and camaraderie. But beneath this somewhat idyllic façade, secrets simmered when her innocence was shattered by her brother’s betrayal, leaving her overwhelmed by a profound loss of trust and conflicting emotions. She internalized the distress, burying the pain deep beneath layers of denial and at the bottom of vodka bottles. The traumatic experience reshaped her outward self but ultimately became the catalyst for her resilience—empowering her future self to confront obstacles with perspective and strength.
Overcoming trauma.
With no job or child support, she had no choice but to move us to a subsidized housing complex and rely on social assistance, food banks and charity hampers for basic necessities. Armed with only a high school education, she took on unskilled jobs that barely covered her expenses and provided little flexibility. I remember one instance when, after a sleepless night spent caring for me as I vomited a record-breaking 17 times, she bundled me up in the back seat of her car so she could conduct city-wide, door-to-door surveys for a gruelling eight hours at a mere $2 per hour.
However, as the economic landscape began to shift and opportunities for women expanded during this transformative decade, she secured stable employment at London Wines, the sole winery operating in southwestern Ontario, at the time, perched atop the iconic “Winery Hill” on Wharncliffe Road. Through determination and hard work, she quickly advanced, earning more money and paving the way for a better future for herself and her family. Despite this, her financial stability was soon disrupted when her employer began withholding her earnings—a process typically reserved for child or spousal support payments. Payments, by the way, she never received—ever—from her ex-husband. Instead, as a single mother of three young girls, her financial security was further jeopardized by a legal (and frankly, super shitty) obligation to pay her ex-husband’s gambling debt.
Dick.
Few things in life can be as devastating as divorce, presenting unique challenges to both parents and their children. My eldest sister experienced firsthand the dissolution of our parents’ marriage and the ensuing conflict, which shattered the security she had grown accustomed to during the first 11 years of her life. While unquestionably one of the toughest ages to cope with divorce, I would eventually feel the tremors of its aftermath when I was thrust into a world far removed from the sheltered innocence of Elmwood Place.
Much like her own mother, my mother bore the burden of her ex-husband’s recklessness alone. Despite her attempts to prioritize her wellbeing and confront her fears, she remained financially tied to him and his irrational behaviour, forced to navigate relentless debt collectors and the repercussions of his illegal actions. His reckless, uninvited visits, fuelled by drugs and alcohol, often brought chaos and violence to our home, leaving lasting physical and emotional scars on us all.
Yay for anxiety.
These experiences—compounded by the feelings of abandonment and rejection when he repeatedly failed to fulfill his parental responsibilities, leaving us stranded curbside during visitation, or, when he did show up, taking us to seedy bars or leaving us alone in the unsafe homes of sketchy individuals who shouldn’t be trusted with children, let alone young girls—profoundly impacted each of us emotionally, psychologically, and in our own future relationships in unique ways.
For me, these events sparked a persistent anxiety that manifested in the aforementioned ‘demonic slumber party’ and a deep-seated inability to trust. Little did I know, peaceful sleep was never going to be in the cards.