My Regret for Starting a Family with a Single Mom

On December 5th, 2016, my wife and I celebrated our third year of marriage after living together for well over 13 years as boyfriend and girlfriend. Throughout the years, she refused to get married but was more than willing to have two kids with me and now we have five. Before we started dating she had three from an array of men with one serving a life sentence in prison, the second father a chronic drug addict that is in and out of rehab, and the third dead after living a questionable lifestyle in the urban pharmaceutical industry (drug dealer).

I was reared in a typical African-American household dominated by strict and opinionated women that had a resentment toward men as being worthless. No matter what my female siblings did, I was the only male and therefore, I suffered the wrath of the frustration of my mother, aunts, and sisters. All my life I was taught to respect women and call them queens whether they deserved it or not. By the time I turned 18 years old, my mother gave me 10 twenty dollar bills and told me no man that was not fucking her had to leave the house. Living on the streets of Chicago during winter was no picnic. I got a job washing dishes in an upscale restaurant where I was treated like shit by a black female manager.

Eventually, I had to fuck her in order to keep my job and feel like someone in this world gave a damn. It did not take long before I was fired and replaced by a younger dude serving her purposes.
I finally got another job as a security guard and met a single mother of three in an apartment building where I worked. It did not dawn on me at the time that I was actually being set-up until many years later. All of her friends were in the same situation, unmarried, with boyfriends, kids, and barely making ends meet financially. “The Struggle” was the term of the day used throughout the relationship. The truth was though that she wanted to remain single so that she could feel like she still had her youth without the commitment. I later learned that this illogical thinking has its roots in the ghetto. The same shit that my mother, aunts, and sisters did was all the same. Being a single mom was a profession for some of her friends that had no plans on ever marrying. A few years later my mother tried to get me to come to visit her and my sisters and family to borrow money more so than anything else. However, my heart was like stone toward them. When I thought about it, I did not know an African-American woman that was married and knew how to treat a man as a partner.

In retrospect, the way my mother reared me actually put me into an emasculated state, questioning my manhood in so many ways. I was scared, buying a gun and talking shit to over-compensate to prove that I was a man, but I was not foolish enough to have my freedom taken away by doing something stupid that would get me locked-up. I took on some of my mother’s, aunts, and sisters’ causes by thinking the men were wrong for not dating them just because they had kids out of wed-lock. This mind-set allowed me to accept a woman that was not the first choice of most guys that were about something. In my wife’s eyes, I was a dick with a paycheck. Sex was almost immediate and I bought into the lie about her taking birth-control when she did not.

By not having a positive male figure in the household in my life, I was fair-game to becoming a SIMP (Sorry Inept Male Personality). I thought I was doing good by saving a single mother from being alone and fighting the world as if I was some sort of crusader. All the women would yell out about me being a man when I did not have a clue what one was really like besides what I saw at church and on television.
I thought that this was okay and the guys were jerks by default for leaving these women. My wife called their fathers “Dead Beats” and I took it to heart because my mother said the same about my father and the fathers of my sisters. Like my mother, she likes to be called a presumptive title of “Queen” as if pushing children from the womb is an Olympic event. White, Latin, African, Asian, and other women do it every day throughout the world and carry on with their lives without such bullshit.
I am envious of seeing people like the President and his family where both work hard without one having an entitled mind-set. I realize now years later my wife still threatens me about divorce and having to pay child support. The numerous times when I work hours in over-time to pay the rent, put food on the table, and she swears I am lazy, despite the fact that she chooses to look for a job only when here government benefits are threatened. I am afraid to divorce because I know that she will take the kids and hit me for child support.
It pisses me off when I don’t make enough money in overtime that I get yelled at and then she starts calling the other two fathers about taking them to court for more child support. The whole time she has no plans of going back to school or bettering herself, using rearing the kids as an excuse. Funny, that the time she has off to spend with them, she is in the clubs with her girlfriends, coming home early in the morning smelling like fresh sex, just like my mother used to so many years ago. It is my own damn fault for being with someone like her because if I knew better, I would do better. It is pitiful that three years ago I had to get a female friend of mine with no kids to make her jealous enough to finally shame her into marrying me so that we could try to have a family of some sort. Since then, nothing has changed, just more numbers in her cell phone and shorter skirts.

Honeymoon night began with bickering about me not bringing in enough money at $25.00 pr. hr with an Associate degree in Business that I had to borrow through student loans. She compared me to her girlfriends’ boyfriends that made more money. I was also told that my penis wasn’t getting hard enough during sex and that we should start seeing other people. In so many ways by being together it seems like we have cheated ourselves out of a happier life than what we have now.

Now, when I see her naked, I have buyer’s remorse where fat has replaced curves and the lust I once had for her. I take full responsibility for the decision I made, but she feels as though I am inferior. The only time that I am of value is during holidays and when there is something she wants such as club money. I hear a lot of people say that not all are like this and that may be true, but from my perspective, all does apply. The last time I visited my mother, she was cuddled up with an 18 year old boy and my sisters in their 20’s and 30’s still living at home with their ain’t shit men that do not have jobs. After writing this post, I am heading to the bar to pick up my drunk wife from the club and sneak her into the apartment and pick-up the kids from the sitter’s house before I drop them off and head to the third shift on my second job.

JT, Chicago, IL

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