Single mothers read this

Today, I took my son for his Entrance exams.

As I sat there,

 I found myself drifting back to my own school days. I remembered how it used to be a "team operation." 

My mother was the heartbeat of the morning—preparing the food, packing the lunch, checking the water bottle, and asking that one final question: 

"Have you taken everything?" 

Meanwhile, my father was the logistics manager. He’d be outside checking the car, heading to the petrol bunk, making sure the tire pressure was perfect. He knew the route; he handled the "outside world" so I could just focus on the paper in front of me.

But today? Today, I was both of them.

I was the one packing the lunch. I was the one at the petrol bunk. I was the one navigating the traffic and the one calming the nerves. 

And when I got home, I was the one calling the plumber to fix a broken pipe, a task my father always handled without me even noticing.  

Someone easily said you are overacting as if you are writing the exams. 

It’s funny how people who have never had to hold the whole world up by themselves are the first to tell you how light it should feel.

But here is what I realized as I watched my son walk into that exam hall: 

I am not sulking. I am not sitting here asking, "Why is this happening to me?" or blaming the circumstances. 

Instead, I felt this overwhelming wave of pride. I am the chef, the mechanic, the coach, and the provider. I am managing a household, a career, and a future—all on my own two feet.

To all the mothers out there doing "double duty"—I see the invisible things you do. I see the tires you check and the lunches you pack.

People might call it "brilliance" or "independence" in our children, but we know the truth: that independence is a gift we gave them by being the entire foundation ourselves.

I am proud of me. And if you’re doing this alone today, I hope you’re proud of you, too.

Dr. Dhivya Pratheepa