I have been a single parent for two years. Before that, I thought I knew a bit about single parenting because I often felt like one. Now I know what I didn’t know.

In those years before my husband and I separated and divorced, he left more and more of the parenting responsibilities to me. He gave up on most of the kids’ activities, and I did all of the driving and attending. Of course, I wanted to be there, but the point is that he didn’t and usually wasn’t. I felt alone. I was alone. And every aspect of caring for the children was mine.Although I felt abandoned and alone as a parent, I was, in fact, not a single parent. I know now that real single parenting is qualitatively different than what I experienced when I felt like a single parent. That was its own thing, both challenging and sad, but it was not this.

My youngest is now in first grade, and yesterday was his parent-teacher conference. When I sat down with the teacher, she said, “This is the kind of conference that’s fun to do.” She proceeded to show me the progress in his work over the first two marking periods and, basically, sing his praises. She said he had conviction, stood for justice, and was a leader. She talked about his higher-level thinking and said she expects him to be beyond double certain benchmarks by the end of the school year. She said the biggest difficulty we would have with him would be in keeping him challenged.

After the conference I got in the car and sobbed. It came from nowhere, and it came from everything. Single parenting is so very hard. I have three young adults in the house and they require so much from me in the way of wisdom and knowing when to step in and when to step back. You think little kids are tough until you have teens and young adults, and then you think the little kid gig is a virtual picnic. Except it’s not of course. It’s just a different set of challenges. I know because I am doing both at the same time, and because my little is a complicated old soul who has lived through more than his share of heartbreak and trauma. And so I cried from sheer relief—relief that everything this kid has been through has not somehow damaged his intellect or potential. I cried from relief that although he is a challenge at home, he is thriving in school. I cried because I haven’t ruined him. I cried because all of this is so hard, but sometimes things are just unexpectedly wonderful.

Sometimes I hear people say they are single parenting for the day. Or the weekend. Or the week. Don’t say that. You’re not. Before I was a single parent, I often felt like one. Now I know what I didn’t know. I was not one then, but I am now, and the two are entirely different.