I have this beautiful friend who has been an enormous influence on my life. And I don't think she necessarily realises just how much.
When Miss V (my youngest daughter) was little, I was a single mum, and I had somehow developed this belief that being a single mother meant I was supposed to struggle. That I was supposed to go without, make do with whatever I had and spend my life sacrificing everything for my children. I think a lot of that came from the examples of single motherhood I'd seen around me, where it was all about Centrelink, barely making ends meet and just getting through. And obviously that is the reality for a lot of single mums, but somewhere along the way I'd turned it into an expectation of what my own life was supposed to look like.
My amazing friend challenged that thinking. She basically told me that being a single mum didn't mean I had to spend my life on my hands and knees like Cinderella, scrubbing floors and going without. I was allowed to want more. I was allowed to have nice things, beautiful experiences and a life that I genuinely loved. Being a single mother didn't make me less than anybody else, and it certainly didn't mean I had to accept less.
Now, my friend wasn't somebody who'd had an easy life herself. She'd been through some really difficult things and had raised her children as a single mum too. But she'd created this beautiful life. She had a lovely home near the beach, a successful career doing work that was meaningful to her, she travelled, she ate beautiful nourishing food and surrounded herself with things she loved. She was also an absolutely devoted mother. A proper mama bear who was incredibly involved in her children's lives and education.
And I think that's what struck me most. She wasn't choosing between being a good mother and having a beautiful life of her own. She was doing both.
I'd somehow got it into my head that the two were mutually exclusive. That if I was going to be a good single mum, I needed to sacrifice absolutely everything, and wanting nice things for myself was somehow selfish or inappropriate. I don't even know where I'd picked up all of those ideas, but there they were, quietly running the show.
My friend was this shining beacon of hope for me because she was living proof that there was another way. And I don't mean that in the sense that everybody should aspire to have her particular lifestyle. I mean that she made me realise I could actually decide what I wanted my own life to look like, rather than just accepting the version I thought I was supposed to have.
So I did. I built my business. And when I was in a position to afford it, I bought myself a secondhand Audi. Not because I wanted to impress anybody or prove something, but because I absolutely loved that car. I loved how it looked, I loved driving it and I felt safe having my girls in it. It suited me and what I wanted, and I could afford it. Fabulous.
I also bought an old VW campervan because I wanted to be able to pack some clothes and food, grab the girls and the dog and just go camping without having to turn every little adventure into a major logistical operation. I wanted that freedom to head off somewhere for a few days because we felt like it. And having the van made that possible.
Neither of those things was particularly life-changing in isolation. They're a car and a campervan, after all. But what they represented was a pretty significant change in how I was thinking about my life. Instead of automatically telling myself I couldn't have something, or shouldn't want it, I started asking whether it was something I actually wanted and whether I could make it happen. And that's a very different way of approaching things.
I think we all have these ideas about what people like us are supposed to do. What a good mother looks like, what a successful business owner looks like, what you're supposed to have achieved by a certain age, how much money you're allowed to want or what kind of lifestyle is appropriate for your circumstances. Half the time we don't even realise we're operating according to these rules because we've never thought to question them.
If you've grown up surrounded by women who do absolutely everything for everybody else, you might assume that's just what being a good wife and mother involves. If everybody around you works full-time and spends the weekends catching up on housework, perhaps you've never really considered that you could organise your life differently. And if you've spent years being told to be sensible, practical and grateful for what you've got, you might find yourself dismissing things you'd actually really love to do before you've even given them proper consideration.
Of course, there are genuine limitations. Money is a limitation. Health, disability, caring responsibilities, family circumstances and a whole heap of other things can make certain choices difficult or completely unrealistic, at least for now. I'm not suggesting that anybody can simply decide to live an abundant life and magically make it happen. I think that kind of advice is pretty unhelpful when somebody is already doing everything they can just to keep their head above water.
But I do think there's a difference between recognising the circumstances we're actually working with and continuing to live according to restrictions we've placed on ourselves without ever questioning whether they're necessary. And sometimes it takes another person to help us see that difference.
That's what my friend did for me. She didn't hand me a business plan or tell me exactly how to live my life. She challenged an assumption I'd been carrying around and showed me, through the way she lived, that there were other possibilities.
The funny thing is, these days my idea of a beautiful life doesn't necessarily involve working more, earning more or buying more things. In fact, a lot of what I want is quite the opposite. I want freedom, time with my family, a home I love and the ability to spend my days doing things that matter to me without constantly feeling like I need to be productive. I love beautiful things and experiences, but I also love a quiet morning with a cup of tea and absolutely nowhere I need to be. And I think that's the whole point. You're allowed to change what you want, too.
The goal isn't to copy somebody else's version of success. I don't need my friend's life, and you certainly don't need mine. What I needed was to realise that I wasn't obligated to keep living according to some imaginary rulebook about what a single mother's life was supposed to look like.
I wonder how many of us are doing something similar in other areas of our lives. Staying in jobs, relationships, homes or routines because that's what we've always done, or because it's what everybody around us does, without stopping to consider whether it's actually what we want anymore.
And I wonder how often we see somebody else doing something differently and feel that little spark of recognition. Not necessarily jealousy, although sometimes that can tell us something too, but more of an "Oh! I didn't realise that was an option." I think those moments are worth paying attention to.
Because sometimes the most valuable thing another person can give us isn't advice. It's simply showing us that the life we've assumed we're supposed to live isn't the only one available. My friend did that for me, and I'm incredibly grateful she did.
And who knows, perhaps by living your life a little differently, you're doing the same thing for somebody else without even realising it.
If you're ready to question a few of your own shoulds and work out what you actually want your life to look like, that's exactly what we do together in Unscripted Life coaching.
