Wild Rivers

Solo mum. Not so-low mum
There's a difference. And I know both.

When my daughter was born I asked for an extra night in hospital. Not because anything was medically wrong. Because I knew what was waiting at home, just me, no village, no one to hand her to.

I remember holding her while she cried, (fed, winded, changed, cuddled) and asking out loud "why won't you stop crying?" I remember crying into my pillow. I was cluster feeding and barely sleeping. Completely alone during a global lockdown.
That was so-low.

But so-low isn't the whole story. It wasn't the end of mine and it doesn't have to be the end of yours.

Solo motherhood is hard. It can also be the most unexpectedly brilliant thing that ever happened to you. Both things are true at the same time.

I'm a solo mum. Not a so-low mum. Not anymore.

And if you're still in that so-low place right now, I've been there. And I built this whole community because I genuinely want to help you find your way out of it.

The Find Your F.L.O.W guide is a gentle first step out of survival mode. It's free. Link in bio. 🤍

Are you a solo mum finding your way out of so-low? Tell me below.

Are you putting yourself last in everything?

Permanently exhausted. Stuck in the same routine. Wondering when you stopped knowing what you actually like.

That's survival mode. And it has a way of making you feel like this is just how it is now.

It's not.

I wrote the Find Your F.L.O.W guide for exactly this moment. Not to fix everything. Not to give you a to-do list. Just to help you see that there's another way of thinking, doing and being.

F — Freedom. Creating space to live life on your own terms. L — Love. Nurturing yourself with the same compassion you give your child.
O — Open. Staying open to possibilities beyond survival mode.
W — Wild. Embracing your authentic, untamed self.

Four words to come back to on the hard days. Not to go back to who you were. To discover who you're becoming.

It's free. It's yours. Download it via the link in bio.

What's the one thing you've stopped doing for yourself since becoming a mum? Tell me below. 👇

My dad became absent when I was 12.

So when my daughter's dad left before she was three months old, I found myself asking: is there something I could have done differently?

And then I stopped and thought: why is that question even mine to ask?

He made a choice. I didn't make it for him.

But that's the father guilt.
Not bitterness.
Not anger.
Just that quiet, automatic assumption that somehow it comes back to you. That if you'd just done something differently the outcome would have been different.

It wouldn't have. And even if it might have, that's not guilt worth carrying.

For what it's worth, I bring him up with her regularly.
Not because she asks. But because I never want her to look back and feel like something was hidden from her.

My feelings about him are mine. She can form her own.

If you're carrying this one, I wrote something for you.
The Father Guilt is one of five chapters in The Mum Guilt Detox. A printable workbook for solo mums ready to put the guilt down.

£7. Link in bio. 🤍

Which guilt are you carrying? Tell me below. 👇

Can I tell you something that might surprise you?

Mum guilt is actually the best validation that you are doing a great job.

The mums who don't care, they don't feel guilty.

The fact that you lie awake worrying, second guessing, wondering if you're enough, that's not weakness.

That's love.

But here's the thing, you don't have to carry it.

I wrote "The Mum Guilt Detox" because I've felt every single one of these guilts myself.

The patience guilt.
The financial guilt.
The father guilt.
The decision guilt.
The later in life guilt.

And the guilt underneath all the guilt.

It won't fix everything.
But it might help you put some of it down.

£7. Printable workbook. Grab it via the link in bio. 🤍

Which guilt hits you hardest? Tell me below. 👇