One-and-Done: My Love Story
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine wrote a Facebook post that touched me deeply. She shared her journey as a “one-and-done” mama—the conscious choice to have just one child. Her words resonated with me profoundly, not only because I made the same decision, but because her reasons echoed the emotional landscape I’ve walked for over two decades.
Like my friend Tania, I am also the proud mother of one incredible child. While she attributes her decision to a clear understanding of her limits—emotionally, physically, spiritually, and professionally—for me, the story is a little different. I became a mother in the context of a loveless marriage, and although I sometimes wish I had met my present husband earlier in life, so we could’ve had more children together, I don’t regret having just the one. Not for a second!
What I do cherish is the presence I’ve been able to offer my son. The closeness we’ve cultivated is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. Even now, with him at 23, we’re the best of friends. He’s my favourite travel partner, and—perhaps most importantly—my fiercest fashion advisor. We’ve grown together, side by side. He’s seen me through joy and heartbreak, through rebuilding and reinvention. And I’ve had the privilege of watching him become a remarkable human being.
Motherhood, as many of us know, is expansive. It demands so much of us—financially, emotionally, and energetically. For me, there was no balancing act between a partner and a child. That decision had already been made. My marriage was broken, but in that brokenness, I found clarity. I poured everything I had into raising my son. He became my focus, my anchor, and my inspiration.
I have immense respect for women who navigate the complexities of raising multiple children while juggling careers, relationships, and personal dreams. But I knew my path was going to be different. I had aspirations too—I wanted to build something of my own, and I had a lot to prove, mostly to myself. My son, Chris, grew up in the wings of that journey. He watched me build my business, fight for what I believed in, and persist in the face of uncertainty. He learned about resilience not from lectures, but from living it alongside me.
Of course, there are things he missed out on—siblings to fight with, confide in, or team up with on family road trips. But what he gained was time, undivided attention, and an emotional intimacy that’s hard to come by in larger families. He saw me dream big and chase those dreams. Today, he’s an accomplished young entrepreneur himself. And I can say, without hesitation, that he knows he is loved—fiercely, unconditionally, and endlessly. He sees (in action) that I’m his biggest fan, that there’s nothing he can do to change the way I love him unconditionally. That’s my legacy.
There’s a book that helps to better understand and appreciate this path: One and Only: The Freedom of Having an Only Child, and the Joy of Being One by Lauren Sandler. In it, Sandler explores the stigma around raising only children and debunks the long-held myths that “only” means “lonely.” Her reflections validated what I had long suspected: having one child doesn’t mean giving them less—it can mean giving them more; much, much more!
Like Tania, I believe that because I was grounded in who I was—and committed to becoming the mother my son deserved—I raised an extraordinary person. And that, truly, is enough.
Being a one-and-done mama isn’t about lack. It’s about intention. It’s about choosing presence over pressure, and depth over duplication. And in the end, it’s about love—the kind that is whole, constant, and unconditional.
