On Her Own Terms: Michelle

Tell us a little about yourself.

My name is Michelle. I'm 49, originally from New York, and now living in South Florida. I made the decision to become a solo mother by choice at 35 and welcomed my son, Mason, the following year.

He is now 13, and being his mother has been the greatest joy and privilege of my life. I absolutely love being a boy mom. The funny thing is, for years I pictured myself raising a daughter. Looking back now, I can't help but smile because I truly believe God knew my heart better than I did. Mason is everything I never knew I needed. He is kind, thoughtful, respectful, and has the biggest heart. He's also hilarious. This boy is my entertainment. He makes me laugh every single day, often without even trying. We've always shared an incredibly close relationship, and one of the greatest gifts of motherhood has been watching him grow into the young man he is becoming. Every stage has brought something new to love, and somehow, I find myself enjoying this journey more with each passing year.

Outside of motherhood, I work full time, continue to pursue my education, and recently started a photography business. Like so many wonderful things in my life, it began with Mason. What started with photographing his baseball games eventually grew into a passion of my own. In many ways, my life today is a reflection of the things I value most: motherhood, lifelong learning, creativity, family, and the stories we create along the way.

What made you choose solo motherhood by choice?

Funny enough, my mother was actually the person to suggest it. I remember thinking she had lost her mind.

Like many women, I had always imagined motherhood happening in a particular order: I would meet the right person, get married, and then have children. Solo motherhood was never part of the picture I had created for myself. But as I got older, I had to confront a difficult truth: I could continue waiting for the traditional path to unfold, or I could make a conscious decision about the one thing I knew with certainty—I wanted to be a mother.

At 35, I stopped allowing my future as a parent to depend entirely on whether the right relationship appeared at the right time. It was not an impulsive decision. I thought carefully about what it would require emotionally, financially, and practically. Yet the more seriously I considered it, the less "crazy" it seemed.

I came to understand that I was not giving up on love, marriage, or partnership. I was simply choosing not to give up on motherhood.

What was your biggest fear before you started?

My greatest fear was not whether I wanted a child. I was certain about that. My fear was whether I could carry the full weight of parenthood on my own.

I worried about the practical realities: finances, illness, emergencies, difficult decisions, and the relentless responsibility of being the only parent in the home. I wondered who I would turn to when I was exhausted or unsure. I also questioned whether my child might someday feel that something was missing, despite how deeply wanted and loved he would be.

There was also the fear of judgment. Solo motherhood by choice was not discussed as openly when I began my journey, and I knew some people would not understand why I would intentionally choose a life that might be more difficult.

Eventually, I realized that fear was not evidence that I was making the wrong decision. It was evidence that I understood the magnitude of it. I did not move forward because I felt fearless. I moved forward because my desire to become a mother was greater than my fear.

What surprised you the most about the journey?

The first surprise was how quickly everything happened.

I did not experience fertility challenges, and I did not undergo IVF. I chose an open donor and conceived naturally on my first attempt. I recognize how fortunate I was, especially because that is not every woman's experience, and I have never taken it for granted.

What surprised me even more, however, was how completely natural our family felt once Mason arrived. Before becoming a mother, I spent so much time imagining how different our family might appear to others. After he was born, those concerns faded into the background. We were simply a mother and son building a life together, and the love between us has never felt incomplete.

Thirteen years later, what still surprises me most is how much I genuinely enjoy this stage of motherhood. As Mason has grown, so has our relationship. We laugh together, have the best conversations, and genuinely enjoy each other's company. He's my son, but he's also one of my favorite people to spend time with, and that's a gift I never expected.

What's one thing nobody tells you before becoming a solo mother by choice?

Nobody fully prepares you for the mental weight of always being the person responsible for knowing what comes next.

As solo mothers by choice, our experience is a little different from someone who becomes a single parent after a relationship ends. There is no shared custody, no alternating weekends, and no built-in parenting breaks. We are "on" 24 hours a day, seven days a week. If we're fortunate, we may have family or friends who step in occasionally so we can catch our breath, but for the most part, every decision, every responsibility, and every moment of parenting rests with us.

You remember every appointment, manage every bill, respond to every school concern, handle every emergency, and carry every private worry. Even with a wonderful support system, the final responsibility is still yours. That can be exhausting in a way that's difficult to fully understand until you're living it.

But there's another side to that story that people don't often talk about.

Because it's always been just the two of us, Mason and I have built a life that is uniquely ours. We've created our own traditions, our own routines, our own inside jokes, and a bond that has been strengthened by simply doing life together every single day. There is something incredibly special about knowing that every chapter of his life has also been a chapter of ours.

The responsibility can be heavy, but the relationship that has grown from it has been one of the greatest gifts of my life.

What's one misconception about solo motherhood by choice you wish people would stop believing?

I wish people would stop assuming that a woman chooses solo motherhood because she dislikes men, could not find a partner, or does not value the role of fathers.

My decision was never a rejection of relationships, marriage, or fatherhood. It was a refusal to allow the absence of a partner to decide whether I would ever become a mother.

I also wish people would stop viewing children in solo-mother families through the lens of presumed deficiency. A family does not have to follow one structure to be loving, stable, and whole. Children need security, honesty, guidance, consistency, and people who show up for them. Those things can exist within many kinds of families.

Mason has always known that he was intentionally and wholeheartedly wanted. He has grown into a loving, thoughtful, respectful young man with an enormous heart. Our family may not fit the traditional image, but it has never felt like a lesser version of one.

What does "finding your village" mean to you?

To me, finding your village means understanding that choosing to parent independently does not mean choosing to parent alone.

A village can take many forms. It may include family, close friends, teachers, coaches, neighbors, teammates' parents, or people who step into your life for a particular season and leave a lasting impact. Some provide practical help. Others offer encouragement, perspective, or simply remind you that someone else is cheering you on.

For me, that village has also extended far beyond the people I see every day. I've shared my journey as a solo mother by choice on Instagram for many years, and the community I've found there has been an unexpected gift. Women I've never met have celebrated milestones with me, encouraged me through difficult seasons, and reminded me that this journey doesn't have to be walked alone. It's proof that sometimes your village can exist across cities, states, and even countries.

I also believe our village can extend beyond this life.

My father was a lifelong baseball fan and always hoped his grandson would one day play the game he loved. He passed away when Mason was just one year old, so he never had the opportunity to watch him grow into the young man he is today. But I have never felt that his presence in our lives ended there. I still consider him part of our village. His love, his values, and the dreams he had for our family continue to guide us in ways that are deeply meaningful to me.

Mason started playing baseball when he was just 3 years old and now, at 13, still loves the game. He proudly wears number 48 in honor of his grandfather, who was born in 1948. Every time I see that number on the back of his jersey, I'm reminded that the people we love never really stop shaping our lives. Their influence continues through the values they instilled, the dreams they carried, and the memories we choose to honor. I often find myself imagining my father watching from heaven—smiling, proud, and cheering on the grandson he always hoped would take the field.

To me, that's what a village is. It's every person who has loved us, supported us, shaped us, and continues to walk beside us in ways both seen and unseen.

What would you say to the woman reading this tonight, wondering if she's brave enough to take the first step?

I would tell her that courage rarely feels like certainty.

When my mother first suggested solo motherhood to me, I thought the idea was outrageous. I needed time to reconsider the future I had always imagined and make room for one that looked very different. Sometimes the first step is not making a final decision. Sometimes it is simply allowing yourself to explore a possibility you once dismissed.

Learn everything you can. Ask difficult questions. Look honestly at your finances, health, support system, and emotional readiness. Think beyond the baby years and consider the life you are choosing in its entirety. Solo motherhood is beautiful, but it is also demanding, and it deserves thoughtful preparation rather than romanticizing.

At the same time, do not allow fear, timing, or other people's expectations to make the decision for you.

I was 35 when I chose this path. At 36, I gave birth to the person who would bring more laughter, love, and meaning into my life than I could have imagined.

You do not have to be fearless. You only have to be honest about what you want and brave enough to take the next step toward it.

Is there anything else you'd like to share?

If there's one thing I hope someone takes away from my story, it's that life doesn't always unfold the way we imagine it will—and sometimes that's exactly where the greatest blessings are found.

Choosing solo motherhood wasn't the easiest path, but it was the right one for me. It challenged me in ways I never expected, stretched me beyond what I thought I was capable of, and ultimately gave me a life that is fuller and more meaningful than I ever imagined.

The idea my mother first suggested—and that I initially thought was completely crazy—became the decision that changed my life.

If someone had told the 35-year-old version of me what my life would look like today, I don't know that I would have believed them. I would have a son who makes me laugh every day, a relationship with him that I treasure, a career I enjoy, a photography business that grew out of cheering for him on the baseball field, and a life filled with people who have supported us in ways I never expected.

No, it hasn't always been easy. There have been lonely seasons, financial pressures, and moments when the responsibility of doing it all felt overwhelming. But I've never questioned whether I made the right decision.

If my story encourages even one woman to stop believing there's only one "right" way to build a family, then sharing it will have been worthwhile. Families aren't defined by how they begin. They're defined by the love, intention, and commitment that shape them every single day.

Looking back now, I realize that the life I spent so many years hoping for isn't the life I was meant to have. The life I was meant to have turned out to be even better.

Michelle, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for trusting us with your deeply honest and inspiring story.

Follow @mpoweredandfit for more of Michelle and Mason's beautiful life together — the motherhood, the baseball, the laughter and all the joy still to come.