'I needed the skills of a marathon runner, Ukrainian general and Hollywood PR'

At the time being a single parent was a huge juggling act, but now her daughter Hope is grown up and happy writer and editor Lindsay Nicholson can see the positives that came out of having a hard-working and independent role model.

By Lindsay Nicholson

There was a moment, a few years back, when I was in the dentist’s chair, having root canal surgery, and I caught myself thinking: “Oh, it’s nice to have a sit-down at last”. The reality of single parenthood is that you need the stamina of an ultra-marathoner, the organisational skills of a Ukrainian general and the networking contacts of Hollywood PR. 

I didn’t set out to be single parent, it was brought about by the death from cancer of my husband. But few of us choose single parenthood. It is the result of bereavement or relationship breakdown, or perhaps just the difficulty of coinciding childbearing years with a reliable partner. It goes without saying that where small children are concerned two pairs of hands – not to mention two wage packets - are usually better than one. But lately, I’ve been wondering whether my single parenthood was such a bad thing?

Single parenthood is a crash course in reality

I chose to continue my career because it was that or life on benefits. But it was brutal. Unable to afford a cleaner as well as childcare, I would scrub the house at 10 o’clock at night after a full day at work and putting my daughter Hope to bed. When I had paid the nanny’s salary I had barely enough to cover the mortgage and food bills, let alone fares to work. It is, of course, wrong that childcare is so expensive – but single parenthood is a crash course in facing up to reality.

And there were inevitable crises. The day I was going to Paris to interview for the job of my dreams, the nanny phoned sick. Before leaving to catch the Eurostar, I had to ring round my support network to arrange emergency cover. I caught the train and got the job. But even with the back-up of family and friends, it was lonely – no-one to discuss Hope’s school progress with or my aspirations for her future – just a microwaved meal every night, alone in front of the TV.

When I wasn’t at work, I was a full-on mother

I had limited social life, rare romantic entanglements, no hobbies. When I wasn’t at work, I was a full-on mother. There was no room for guilt. You could call it compartmentalising or say I was being mindful - being fully present wherever I was.

Sheryl Sandberg of Facebook credits her professional success on the support of her late husband Dave Goldberg. But few spouses are as supportive as he apparently was. Some otherwise very nice men subtly undermine their partners or suggest – not unreasonably – that spending everything you earn on childcare doesn’t make financial sense. Except for me it did. My career soared in a way that those of some of my more talented colleagues, who perversely had more choices, did not.

After 12 years, I re-married and for a while I experienced the benefits of being a two-parent family. It coincided with my treatment for breast cancer and we really needed that extra pair of hands when I was unwell.

I walked my daughter down the aisle as ‘father-of-the-bride’

The marriage didn’t work out, but my daughter grew up to be a happy and balanced young woman. A few weeks ago, I walked her down the aisle, fulfilling the traditional role of father-of-the-bride. We had a heart-to-heart the night before and she told me that she was proud of the example I had given her with my independence and capacity for hard work. She said our bond was made immeasurably stronger by our circumstances.

Even so, I wanted to apologise for never picking her up from school. And then she told me what I never knew all those years ago which was that all she really wanted to do after school was have a snack and watch cartoons. Adding, with a smile, that having me stuck at home pinging off the walls with unfulfilled ambition would have been much more stressful.