Single moms

They say we're a product of our choices. I think that notion is wrong. I've made all the good choices I can think of for my daughter. I had Shirley when I was sixteen, she was all blue eyes and wild, mahogany hair. The prettiest of them all.  Her father went MIA when I was three months pregnant with her, so it's just been me. Twice, I've moved from what I considered the best apartments I could get simply because I believed the neighborhoods weren't good enough for my baby. It wasn't the best decision for me seeing that my mom lived close to one of the neighborhoods, and I found my circle of sisters in the other, but it was the best for Shirley, so I did it. Everything I’ve done till this point in my life has been for her, so where did I go wrong now? How couldn't I deal with the fact that my baby was all grown and could make her own decisions for herself? In the past six weeks, Shirley and I have been at logger heads. It's always this one or the other. First, she wanted to get her hair tinted. Lord knows I have no issues with that but I don't think it's good for her. She's not doing it because she wants to, she's doing it because some guy told her to. My hands curl around the long neck of the beer I'm having. How dare she trash my opinion for that of some college boy she's only met? She used to be my best friend! She's in the room just opposite mine right now yet I can't see or talk to her because I corrected her for talking back at me in front of her boyfriend. To think that she's only fifteen and she already has an attitude. My phone buzzes on the kitchen table next to me. It's 1am, there are only three people who can call me by this time. Melody is one of them and she'll be adding the other two to this group call. “Hi, M.” My voice is slurry from all the beer I've been throwing down my throat. “Britney! How're you?” Melody has always been cheerful. She's who I call the calm before, during and after the storm. “Oh please, don't ask. I wish I had super powers. I'd have deleted that Carlos boy from my baby's memory.” Melody laughs as she adds Kristine and Louise to the call. I met the three of them at a group for single moms and we just hit it off. I was the odd one in the group; the youngest, and the only one with a daughter, but they made me feel so loved. They still do. “Look who's getting jealous about her kid having a boyfriend.” Louise teases as soon as she gets on the call. She's only a year older than I am so we get along better than with Melody and Kristine. “I'm not jealous,” I hiss. “That boy's no good.” Kristine peers into the camera and gasps. “Britney, is that a beer?” she seemed to have been the first to notice because the other women began to gasp as well. Yep, I don't drink. “I just needed to clear my head,” I begin in my own defense but they're having none of it. All of them are talking at once. "You're getting at your daughter for liking a boy who isn't good for her, yet look at you drinking a beer you always say isn't good for you." Kristine says. "That does sound familiar, right? Or are you still wondering where she got that from?" Louise interjects. "Guys! Guys..." I slam my hands on the kitchen table. "Are we here to talk about my indulgence in alcohol, or we're here to profer solution to my daughter's situation?" Melody sighs. "How about you just let the poor thing be? She's going to navigate her way in this world by herself. You're only there to guide her." "Don't you understand, M? I got pregnant when I was her age. Now that was a blessing to me..." "Amen!" Louise interjects again, snapping her fingers. "...But look where it has ended me." I continue as if no one had said anything. "I can't even go out with any man I want because I don't want to embarrass my daughter and I have to carefully select a father figure for her. I can't make any decision without involving or considering her, I can't live recklessly because I want to be a good example for her...." Kristine clears her throat loudly and makes a gesture at the beer in my hand. I gulp it all down and toss the bottle in the garbage can. "Better?" I ask her, she makes a face and the rest of them laugh. “Seriously girls, what do I do?” “I think Melody's right though.” Louise's expression turns sober. “You should let the girl live her life. I know you don't want her making your mistakes but she isn't you. She's a beautiful, smart girl who's learning what's good for her. Let her live her life, you've lived yours.” As much as that sounds really difficult, they both have a point. Shirley's not me. I've told her the story of her father over and over, I have to trust that she'll learn from my experience. “Kris, you got nothing for me?” “What they said baby, what they said.” I bid them goodnight as we all laughed at Kristine's comment. The following evening as Shirley prepared to head over for her piano lessons, I handed her a package. “What's this?” She asks, tearing it open. “It's a dress. I figured you don't have something nice to wear for your date with Carlos tomorrow.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Thanks mom, but we broke up.” I clamp a hand over my mouth. “Why?” She shakes her head, “He's not what I want for myself, and you don't like him either so…” I pull her in for a tighter hug. The girls were right. She definitely knows better than to relive my mistake. I’ve only been scared for nothing.