nprofile1qy2hwumn8ghj7un9d3shjtnddaehgu3wwp6kyqpqz0ewpvu7dwvry35sqk0j4j9ulzlg29uqwxkwwqkx55efff5ardesg2zwmt (nprofile…zwmt)
A widow, they say, is ennobled by tragedy, her solitude thrust upon her by fate’s cruel hand. A divorced woman, they sneer, bears the stain of her own failure, her union sundered by choice or weakness. Yet I see through this veneer of judgment, this petty moral posturing. A single mother is a single mother still—her spawn cling to her skirts, her resources sapped, her spirit tethered to a past she cannot unmake.