As long as there have been mothers, there have been single mothers. But in America, Black women have borne the stigma of single parenthood, whether we’re painted as “welfare queens”—a sensationalized label given to us by the Republican right as a way of villainizing the use of public assistance—or being disregarded as “baby mamas” in our own communities.
The shame of single mothering continues to follow us, even though, as of 2023, the majority of single mothers in the U.S. are white. And those of us who are single mothers find ourselves better off than both our predecessors and our partners: the most recent data shows that 84% of Black mothers are the breadwinners of their families.
Our status as the most educated group in the U.S. paired with cultural shifts in perception around family structure and marriage has empowered more Black women to take the leap out of unsuccessful relationships and into our own definition of parenting. What that looks like is a new wave of single Black mothers.
As it stands, nearly half of us are doing it solo. Celebrities like KeKe Palmer, Victoria Monet, and Halle Bailey show us it’s possible to be both a single parent and a powerhouse. Still, many mothers find it difficult to reconcile the dream they had for their family with the reality that they may need to do it on their own.
Stepping Out Solo
Before Stephany Faublas became an advocate for the mommy-and-me “soft life” trend with her 6-year-old daughter Cadence (a viral star in her own right), she battled with the idea of being a single mom in the first years of her daughter’s life.
“I didn’t become a mother to do this on my own,” Faublas says. “My other friends or people I was in community with who were mothers, had partners. They shared the load—good and bad. Some of them didn’t even plan on the kid, and yet they were fine. Here I was, a planned pregnancy, and nothing was going according to plan. It was embarrassing.”
By the time she made her first steps toward single parenting, Faublas had hit her lowest point. She didn’t recognize herself and realized it was carrying over into the way she was making memories with her child. But instead of staying there, she found it motivated her to get up and get out—not just for herself, but for her daughter.
“Instead of the rock bottom being no man’s land, your rock bottom literally becomes the place you start to build from,” she shares. “When I look at my child and know the type of life I want for her and the type of woman I want her to see, I said, ‘Yeah, no, this is not going to be for me; I have to go.’”
To her 245K followers, her approach to mothering may seem all luxe vacations and high-end brands, but it didn’t start there. Her path back to self started with small steps, like taking longer showers and getting herself flowers whenever she wanted “princess treatment.” More importantly, it required a shift in perspective.
“I put a lot of pressure on myself and a lot of that shame on myself before I ever even encountered anyone in the world,” Faublas says. “I look back now with so much more grace for myself and grace for others who are going through this…In the end, being kind to myself helped me realize I have all the tools I needed to do this on my own. So I did. ”
Happy Mom, Happy Child
In a study out of Ohio State University, researchers found that children of happy mothers did better academically and had fewer behavioral issues. In other words, a mother’s well-being directly impacts the well-being of her children.
It was something Jaqwan Evbuomwan didn’t fully grasp until she left her marriage of 13 years. With two children and her own creative agency to run, she began prioritizing her peace over a draining relationship.
“I’m very much the kind of woman who believes in finding joy no matter what I do,” she says. “So when I found out that on the other side there’s a sense of calmness, my body feels [at peace], I was like, ‘I’m not going back.’”
The feeling of relief doesn’t make being her children’s primary parent easier, but it has given her agency to create a life that feels more true to them. Now that they’re older, five and seven, she’s also giving them space to voice concerns about their new family dynamic.
“I let them know that this is ours to carry,” Evbuomwan says. “However, that does not mean that they won’t be impacted by it. So I’m always checking in with them. I’m doing a lot of answering the questions now as opposed to doing it later.”
Her version of single parenting is a raw and honest one, which is something she admitted her children hadn’t seen from her before.
“I think they’re getting a very beautiful version of me, which I appreciate,” she says. “And I believe their peace and their freedom exist because they see me navigating it for myself. I’ve seen them grow leaps and bounds, and that alone I’m so grateful for. I look forward to them being able to just be more confident and more sure of themselves.”
We all know the adage: it takes a village to raise a child. But when it comes to being a single mom, it holds even more true—especially because mothers in heteronormative relationships often end up doing most of the labor.
“We always have to put in the work,” Diana Sanz says. “It’s like we’re already prepared to be in that [single mom] role because sadly, we are already fully doing it by ourselves or with minimal support, at least when it comes to just the labor that people don’t see. Cooking meals, washing dishes, doing laundry and all those little things that help a household run smoothly, it falls on us.”
The model, doula-in-training, and mom to a 3-year-old revealed that while her hyper-independence left her feeling isolated in her relationship, it also proved to be a roadblock to building community when she left.
“I was scared because I didn’t have much of a community the first year,” she says. “But once I took the leap, I realized that people do want to show up for you. I have an amazing daycare system, and the lady is basically my son’s third grandmother. The aunties that aren’t blood family, but still come through and take him out or watch him if I ever need—I’m grateful that I was able to find that.”
Supporting Single Black Moms
The idea that choosing single motherhood means you should be okay on your own is rooted in a capitalistic, individualist culture. And it’s one that only makes accepting that you need help as a single mom more difficult.
Toi Smith, founder of Loving Single Black Mothers, sought to help mothers like herself through a cash-in-hand program, specifically to combat the stigma that single Black mothers are irresponsible and only want free handouts.
“There is a historical lens of Black women used as a scapegoat, of Black single mothers as an example of what not to be: don’t be the welfare queen, don’t need support, don’t need assistance,” she says.
“We kind of flip that to say, no, actually we’re very trustworthy and if we’re resourced and supported, we actually raise beautiful children and run beautiful households.”
Instead of leaving moms stuck with two options—stay in an unhealthy relationship for the sake of support or leave and accept you won’t have any—she’s presenting them with a third: a reimagining.
“You have to be able to see yourself as a deserving being,” Smith says. “Well, whole, respected, loved, honored, cherished. You have to be able to hold that….Your motherhood is valid. Even if it doesn’t resemble X, Y, and Z, it is still a version of mothering that is respected and that is needed.”
