I raised my daughter on disability income, food stamps, and the generosity of friends and family who accepted home-cooked meals for helping me instead of cash. I didn’t have a partner or a safety net. What I had was determination, exhaustion, and the constant fear of falling further behind.
So when I see billionaires like Elon Musk telling the world to have more kids or civilization will collapse, I want to scream.
It’s not that people don’t want families, it’s that we’re drowning in a system that makes them impossible to afford.
In the three years after my daughter was born, I lost five jobs — not because I wasn’t capable or committed but because I couldn’t always secure reliable child care. Eventually, a close friend stepped in and agreed to watch her for $30 a day and two home-cooked meals each week. That arrangement helped, but it came after we’d already lost everything. With no money and nowhere to go, my daughter and I moved into a spare room in my best friend’s home. We slept in a bunk bed and tried to piece our lives back together.
Eventually, I did what so many parents do: I powered through. We moved south of Denver, and I landed a job that allowed us to climb out of the worst of it. For a while, it felt like we were finally moving forward. That is, until I was hit with devastating news about my health and had to go on Social Security Disability Insurance.
