'It's not a tragedy, it's a transformation.' Four mums on the surprising reality of solo parenting.

Being a single mum in 2025 is a mixed bag. 

In some ways, life for mums doing it solo has improved over the years; in other ways, though, it feels like we're stuck in a time-warp.

At times, being a single mum can feel isolating. Like we're the only ones in the world wearing so many hats and trying to be everything for everyone. Other times, it feels empowering; like we're finally in control of our own lives. 

Our experiences are both unique and universal. 

Watch: Brooke's day in the life as a single mum of five children. Article continues after the video.

For some of us, single parenting means balancing paid work with the needs of growing children — school runs, sports runs; it means finding money for school fees, birthday parties, fashionable clothes and never-enough groceries, while trying to find a minute or two for ourselves along the way. 

For others, it's nappy changes and feeding and doctor visits; it's managing a budget based on government payments and often limited child support, only to get to the end of the long, lonely day to find there's no one to hand the baton to — or even talk to. The demands of parenting don't stop. 

Being a single mum in 2025 doesn't come with one story. It comes with thousands — some messy, some powerful. We all do things differently, armed with different resources, but we all do our best. 

We do it in a country designed for two-parent families. Financial pressure hits hard when you're the only adult in the room. The emotional load never lets up. Every packed lunch, every meltdown, every tough call — it all falls to you. 

Then there's the system and the paperwork, from Centrelink to family court, which can feel like navigating a world that wasn't built for families like yours.

But in between all that? There's beauty. There's growth. The kind of growth that comes from experiencing something you never expected. The kind of growth that comes from digging in the trenches. From doing the hard thing, then doing it again the next day. From finding joy in small, ordinary moments. From loving your kids fiercely and building a life around what works for you — even when it looks nothing like what you imagined. 

Jessica, Kate, Ashleigh and Eulalia all became single mums under vastly different circumstances. But they share a common ground.

These aren't cautionary tales. They're not superhero stories either. They're something far more powerful: honest accounts of what it really means to raise a family on your own, in a world that's still catching up.

Jessica is a single mum to two girls. Image: Supplied.

"It felt like a car crash."

Twelve years ago, Jessica's life took a turn she never saw coming. Her marriage ended suddenly, and she found herself alone with two young daughters — one just nine-months-old, the other four.

"It felt more like an abrupt car crash, an earthquake, a building collapse, or being swept away by floodwaters," she said. "It was chaotic, disorienting, and overwhelming all at once."

At the time, Jessica had almost no reference points for what single motherhood looked like. 

"There was no one in my life who had been through something like this. It wasn't something I ever imagined would happen in my own life. It felt foreign — like something that only happens to other people."

The early days were pure survival mode. "I stayed in the family home, and my ex-husband moved out," she said. 

"Being in a house filled with memories and symbols of togetherness that no longer existed was surreal and painful. 

"I remember crying in the shower, so my kids wouldn't hear. Crying after saying goodbye when they went to their dad's. Crying in the lawyer's office."

But she still had to show up. 

"Our children were very young. My youngest was only nine-months-old — I was still breastfeeding — and my eldest was just four. I felt I had to hold things together, to create a sense of normalcy for them, even when everything felt far from normal."

Although the co-parenting relationship was rocky at first, Jessica says they learned to make it work. 

"We'd still see their dad, sometimes at the park, or he would come into the house to spend time with them while I was there. It was awkward and painful — but we were doing our best," she said.

It took three years to finalise their parenting and financial arrangements. "We were trying to create a plan for the next 18 years while I was still adjusting to each new day," she said.

Today, Jessica's life looks completely different. Her daughters are now teenagers, and Jessica works from home running her natural perfumery business, Sensoriam.

Her typical day revolves around school drop-offs, running online workshops, packing orders, and carving out moments of calm — like walking along the Bondi coastline or meditating with her cat, Pixie, by her side.

"The biggest challenge now is the mental load," she said. "There's no one to bounce ideas off. Every emotional decision, every scheduling clash, every school note — it's all on me."

Guilt has also been a recurring presence. "Guilt used to run the show. But now I stop and ask: is this guilt helpful? Is it accurate? Is it true? That awareness helps."

One of her greatest sources of support has been her community. "The mums from (school) were extraordinary. They helped with meals, school pick-ups, babysitting… and they helped me feel less alone. That, too, was mental health care," she said.

Jessica says despite all the challenges, she's most proud of the bond she's built with her daughters. 

"We're a team. Not co-dependent, but deeply connected. We talk about everything. That's been the silver lining."

She's also proud of how she and her ex-husband have evolved as co-parents. "We've gone on holidays together. We celebrate birthdays as a blended group. It's taken time, forgiveness, and maturity — but it's made all the difference."

But she's clear-eyed about what needs to change. "The legal system needs reform. Too many decisions come down to who can afford the best lawyer. That's not justice."

To any woman who's just become a single mum, Jessica says: "Start with one next thing. Just one. Don't look too far ahead. Build your own version of family. You are not broken—you are becoming."

"Everything and everyone was closed off."

In early 2020, as the world shut down because of COVID, Kate and her baby daughter were escaping family violence. 

"We lived in a women's refuge," she tells Mamamia. 

"No savings, no backup. Just me and my daughter. And trauma — so much trauma."

Without access to money or family support, Kate was forced to start over. "It was survival mode. Managing finances, finding stable housing, building a business — I had to figure it all out myself. Everything and everyone was closed off."

Fast-forward five years, and Kate's life looks radically different. She's now running a thriving business, working with international clients, and raising her daughter on her own. Her workdays often stretch late into the night — but, she says, that is by design. Her design.

"I work best between 8 pm and 2 am," she said. "It's quiet. I can decompress and focus. The world slows down and I can think clearly."

But this rebuilt life has come at a cost — an invisible one that too often goes unspoken.

"I've lost over $1.2 million in income and superannuation," she said. "That's the untold side of the 'trad wife' fantasy when it doesn't work out. The financial fallout of becoming a solo parent is massive — and barely talked about."

There's also the sheer weight of doing it all alone, both physically and emotionally.

"There's no one to tag in. No one to say, 'You sleep, I've got this.' Every decision, every meltdown, every sick day—it's always me."

Early on, Kate knew she had to face the deeper work head-on, and attended therapy. She made a conscious decision to dismantle guilt and prioritise herself—not in spite of her daughter, but for her.

"You can't pour from an empty cup," she said. "I want my daughter to see that a woman can love fiercely and still chase her dreams. Self-care is a strategy, not selfish.

"There's this weird social reward for being the most exhausted woman in the room. I'm not interested. I want peace, not martyrdom."

While Kate isn't closed off to the prospect of dating, it's not something she's actively seeking. 

"I'm not waiting to be rescued," she said. "If someone's stepping into our world, they need to bring calm, not chaos."

For Kate, the unexpected gift of parenting solo has been clarity.

"I know exactly who I am, what I value, and how I want to raise my daughter. That's power. I don't have to negotiate it with anyone."

Despite how far she's come, Kate says there's a long way to go when it comes to tackling Australia's extensive structural failings.

"The system was built for a man with a wife at home. That's who the 40-hour work week was designed for. Single mums are burning out trying to be both."

Her advice to women walking a similar path?

"Get a great therapist. Build your village. And stop explaining your choices to people who haven't walked in your shoes. You're not behind — you're building something extraordinary."

"Those early days were about pure survival."

Ashleigh was 17-weeks pregnant with triplets, when she got the news that her husband had been killed in an accident. 

"We were planning our future as a family of five. And then… everything changed. I had to grieve while growing three babies. Alone," she recalled.

The months that followed were a blur—doctors' appointments, high-risk prenatal scans, and late-night breakdowns.

"There was no easing into motherhood. It was all on, all the time," she said. "The grief was so intense, but the babies kept growing. There wasn't time to fall apart."

When the triplets arrived, life became a continuous loop of nappies, feeds, and sleepless nights. 

Today, her three pre-schoolers are full of energy, creativity, and noise. Their household runs on strict routines, colour-coded schedules, and the occasional frozen dinner. "Mornings are chaos," she said. "But we've got our rhythm now. The kids know the drill. That helps."

Ashleigh works part-time in an office and runs her own business, Yellow Falcon, a platform for honest conversations about motherhood and resilience. "Everything is done in threes—lunchboxes, shoes, sunscreen. I joke that I'm the CEO of a small corporation. The logistics are wild, but we make it work."

The mental and physical load is constant. "There's no one to say, 'You rest, I've got this.' No one to run the bath while I breathe for a moment. It's all on me—every day, every hour."

And the financial pressure is unrelenting. "Triplets cost a fortune. Childcare, clothes, car seats, food—it never ends. I have no borrowing capacity now. No financial safety net. It's just me."

Despite everything, there's joy. "The love is multiplied," Ashleigh said. "When they all pile into my bed in the morning, when I hear their giggles, when I see them helping each other—it's magic. We're not the family I planned, but we're a very real, very bonded one."

Ashleigh is passionate about advocating for solo parents of multiples, who she says aren't currently catered for. 

"Government systems are designed around 'standard' families. There's almost no consideration for the complexities of raising multiple children on your own. Paid parental leave, flexible childcare, mental health support—there's so much we need to do better."

Ashleigh co-hosts the podcast Just Life and Lemons with another widowed mum. Through it, she's found a deeply supportive community. 

"These aren't sacrifices—they're decisions. This isn't a tragedy—it's a transformation. Yes, it's hard. But you're doing better than you think. And you're not alone."

Eulalia is a single mum to two boys. Image: Supplied.

"I had no choice but to get on with it."

Three years ago, Eulalia moved her family from Melbourne to the Gold Coast, hoping for a fresh start. But just weeks after the move, her partner announced he was leaving. 

He returned to Melbourne, and never came back. 

"I was stunned," she said. "But I had no choice but to get on with it."

Like many women, Eulalia had been managing the household alone for years—cooking, parenting, and juggling appointments while her partner worked long hours. But the reality of solo parenting still hit hard. 

"It was overwhelming. No backup. No break. Every decision, every meltdown—it was mine to handle."

At the same time, her younger son was suffering. "He missed his dad, his old life. I spent nights just sitting with him, holding space for his sadness. I couldn't afford to fall apart."

She worked through it—school drop-offs, business clients, homework help, and tennis lessons. She was on autopilot and managed to get it done, but her own needs fell away. "I had no time for mental health. My kids came first. Survival came first."

Finances were, and still are, a major pressure point. Her ex moved overseas and stopped paying child support. "The overseas team hasn't helped. Centrelink makes you jump through hoops for basic support. You have to prove you're drowning to get a towel."

Rent takes most of her income, and despite her efforts to grow her business, her borrowing capacity is practically non-existent. "I give updates to Centrelink constantly, but it's like the system doesn't understand that I'm just one person trying to build something while raising kids alone."

As for dating, right now, Eulalia doesn't have the time, or the trust. 

"My kids come first. I'd rather pour my energy into building a peaceful, safe home."

Despite the challenges, Eulalia has found joy in watching her children thrive.

"Our bond is strong. The love is real. It's not the family I imagined, but it's ours."

While she hasn't found a strong community of single mums yet, Eulalia says she's still in her building phase, and can see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

"The few I've met were more focused on dating or going out, and I'm just not there. I'm in a building phase, and that's okay."

Eulalia also believes the system is the biggest barrier for single mums in Australia. 

"Affordable housing. Real enforcement of child support — especially across borders. And a system that believes single parents when we say we're doing our best."

Her advice to other single mums?

"Take things one step at a time. Don't wait for the perfect moment or the perfect plan. Focus on your kids, protect your peace, and don't forget to be proud of yourself. You're doing more than surviving. You're holding a family together—and that's extraordinary."

Feature Image: Supplied.