“I Raised My Kids and Helped Them Stand on Their Own. Now I Need Help”

I grew up in a small town in Ohio, where life was simple and everyone knew each other. After high school, I was determined to make something of myself. I worked hard, got good grades, and earned a scholarship to a state university. College was a whirlwind of new experiences and challenges, but I managed to graduate with a degree in education.

Shortly after graduation, I met Tom. He was charming, ambitious, and seemed like the perfect partner. We got married within a year of meeting each other. Life seemed to be falling into place. We bought a modest house in the suburbs and soon welcomed our first child, Emily, followed by our son, Jake, two years later.

For years, my life revolved around my children. I took a break from teaching to be a stay-at-home mom, ensuring Emily and Jake had everything they needed. I attended every school event, helped with homework, and made sure they were involved in extracurricular activities. Tom was busy with his career, often working late nights and weekends. Our relationship began to strain under the pressure.

As the kids grew older, the distance between Tom and me became more apparent. We argued frequently about finances, parenting styles, and his long hours at work. The love that once brought us together seemed to have faded away. After 15 years of marriage, we decided to divorce.

The divorce was messy and emotionally draining. Tom kept the house, and I moved into a small apartment nearby to stay close to the kids. I returned to teaching, but it was challenging to make ends meet on a single income. The cost of living had increased significantly since I last worked full-time.

Emily and Jake were supportive during this difficult time. They both excelled in school and eventually went off to college with scholarships of their own. I was incredibly proud of them but also felt a deep sense of loneliness as they moved out and started their own lives.

With the kids gone, my financial situation worsened. The rent for my apartment kept increasing, and my teaching salary wasn’t enough to cover all my expenses. I took on a second job tutoring students in the evenings, but it still wasn’t enough. I began to fall behind on bills and had to rely on credit cards to make ends meet.

I reached out to friends and family for help, but everyone had their own struggles. My parents were retired and living on a fixed income, while my siblings were busy with their own families. I felt ashamed and embarrassed to ask for help, but I had no other choice.

One night, after a particularly long day of teaching and tutoring, I came home to find an eviction notice on my door. I had fallen too far behind on rent, and my landlord had no choice but to ask me to leave. Panic set in as I realized I had nowhere to go.

I spent the next few weeks couch-surfing at friends’ houses and looking for affordable housing options. The stress took a toll on my health, and I found myself constantly exhausted and anxious. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find a place within my budget.

Eventually, I ended up in a homeless shelter. It was a humbling experience that made me question every decision I’d ever made. How had I gone from being a college graduate with a promising future to living in a shelter? The shelter staff were kind and supportive, but it was still a far cry from the life I had envisioned for myself.

I continued to work as much as possible, saving every penny I could in hopes of finding a stable place to live. But the reality of my situation weighed heavily on me. The American Dream I’d once believed in seemed like an illusion.

As I lay on the cot in the shelter each night, I couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever get better. I’d spent my life raising my children and helping them succeed, but now that they were gone, I felt abandoned and forgotten. All I wanted was a chance to rebuild my life, but it seemed like an impossible dream.