I am Alina, sitting at my kitchen table in Ohio, counting the last few dollars in my worn wallet. My story is about the quiet battles of single mothers in America, trying to hold a family together on a shoestring budget. This is the night when my world spun out of control, forcing me to face painful truths about love, pride, and survival.
From the driver’s seat of my battered Ford, I recount the night my world shifted: my wife and her mother feasting, laughter spilling from the kitchen, while I scraped together a meal from cold leftovers. In the struggle to provide, I found myself growing distant from the very people I loved the most. This is my story of sacrifice, resentment, and searching for dignity in a world that measures a man by what’s on his dinner plate.
