Showing Up Anyway- Even alone

A summer concert, a little rain, and a quiet reminder: my life is still full... even when I’m sitting alone.

Tonight, I almost stayed home.
The rainclouds were black and threatening. My kids were protesting when I picked them up after work. And I didn’t have anyone to meet at the concert.

No date.

No friend.

Just us.

But I’ve learned this over the past six years of single motherhood: if I wait for the perfect conditions, I’ll miss the magic that only shows up when I go anyway.

I said “Hey- I get it. But all week we’ve been doing things you love. I loved it too. But I love music and I love being outside. So let’s go. Let’s give it a try.”

The rain didn’t come. The band played. Families danced on the lawn of the brewery.

And my kids — despite their initial resistance — ended up laughing with strangers, kicking a soccer ball with other kids, and dancing in front of the stage like the world was wide open. I watched them — and I smiled. I didn’t have a date. I didn’t have a friend to chat with. And yet, I was exactly where I needed to be.

This is what single parenting looks like sometimes.
This is what bravery looks like sometimes.
Not just the big decisions — but the small ones: to still show up. To go anyway. To be present, even when part of you wishes someone was there holding your hand. When it feels like everyone around you has a husband or a friend there to witness their joy.

Six years into this solo parenting journey, I’m still making peace with it. Some nights are lonelier than others. Some nights, like tonight, I write poems while sitting on a blanket, surrounded by strangers and summer music.

But tonight, I didn’t rush home to loneliness. I stayed.
And maybe that’s enough.

I wrote this poem right after I got home.

It came out of me like a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

---

Present Company

I sat alone again tonight.
Just like I did last Friday night.
No spouse, no friend by my side —
Just me, my kids, and an open sky.

My daughter spun to the sound of the band,
Laughed with strangers, kicked soccer in the sand.
I smiled — and then I prayed:
Maybe one day, I won’t sit alone in the shade.

Maybe a lover will join me again,
A partner, a friend.
But tonight, I was here.
And that was enough in the end.

I saw joy in my children’s faces.
Felt the grace of strangers,
Heard laughter in nearby places.

And I gave myself the freedom to be
Exactly where I am —
Alone, with me.

Around me, groups of friends laughed plenty.
But I realized that I was Okay.
I'd rather be here
Than home, alone — any day.

---

There’s a kind of quiet strength in showing up for your own life, even when you’re the only adult on the picnic blanket.

I’m not always good at it. Some nights, I ache for someone to sit beside me. But tonight, as the rain stopped and the sun broke through the clouds… as my kids smiled complimenting the band, and they smiled back in appreciation… I was reminded of the beauty in choosing presence over perfection.

To every single parent, or anyone doing life a little solo right now: I see you. Go anyway.

There’s something waiting for you there — even if it’s just your own courage.