I’ve been a solo mom by choice for the past three years.

In 2016 I decided to start a family on my own by becoming a foster mother. Since then I’ve fostered 8 children, all under the age of 2, and adopted my son Jack, the most charming and loving and handsome little toddler who ever existed, and no I am absolutely not biased at all.

I do my fair share of venting about the hard parts of being a solo mom — and when I do, it’s inevitable that I’ll receive some comment that is a variation of:

You’re not missing out on much by being a single parent — my husband doesn’t/can’t/won’t help anyway! LOL

Can you imagine this kind of comment in any other situation? Can you imagine telling someone with one leg, “Look, having two legs isn’t all that amazing either. Sometimes one of my legs gets sore, so I totally understand your situation!”

As an eternal optimist, I assume these people mean well. I believe they’re trying to say something along the lines of, “Hey, we’re all in this together — I know how draining parenting can be!”

Let me be clear: any kind of parenting is HARD. Whether you’re a solo parent or a married parent or a billionaire parent with four nannies, no one gets out of parenthood with their sanity intact. I am in no way trying to suggest that married or coupled parents are skipping their way through parenthood fresh as a daisy. I see them struggling too. The parenthood struggle bus turns away no one.

But single parenting is a different kind of brutal — and no, you do not understand what it’s like to be a single parent because your partner is unwilling or unable to help you, or because they travel a lot, or because they went out of town for the weekend, or because they don’t have that many vacation days, or because they don’t earn a ton of money.

Want to kick a solo parent while they’re down? Say, “Omg! My hubby was in Vegas with his friends this weekend and ugh being a single mom is SO. HARD!”

All of the nopes.

That is not understanding single parenthood any more than closing my eyes makes me understand being blind.

Saying you understand what it’s like to be a single parent because you were temporarily in charge of the kids by yourself — or worse, saying single parenting presents no different challenges than coupled parenting — isn’t just hurtful. It’s flatout untrue.

Having a partner makes parenthood so much easier financially, mentally, emotionally and logistically in ways you cannot possibly comprehend until you’re living the solo parent life. Having a partner means you have a wealth of resources and supports that I just don’t have access to.

Maybe you married a jerk who refuses to change a diaper, or maybe your partner doesn’t have a flexible job and rarely is the one to stay home with a sick kiddo. Still, you have someone. You have options, even if they are limited or imperfect.

If you were to say, suddenly lose your job, you have another income to fall back on. If you were up puking in the middle of the night with a stomach bug and the baby woke up crying, you have someone to nudge out of bed to handle the feeding. If it was your first day of work and daycare called to say your kiddo was sick and needed to be picked up, they could take one for the team.

Because when I suddenly lost my job through no fault of my own (not once but twice in a year), it was up to me to figure out how to make ends meet. When I was puking all night with a stomach bug and the baby woke up crying, I had to barf in a bucket while simultaneously feeding the baby and pray for death to come swiftly. When it was my first day of work and daycare called to say Jack was sick, I had to hope my boss wouldn’t hold it against me for leaving after just three hours of work.

But coupled parenting isn’t just easier logistically — it’s easier emotionally. You can share joys and pains. You can bounce ideas off one another. When you’ve had a terrible day and the tantrums just won’t stop, you have someone laying next to you in bed to give you a hug or a kiss or a comforting word — or even just to take solace in knowing there’s another adult in the house.

As a solo parent, every single child-related task falls to me. Every decision is my sole responsibility. Every dollar we need to pay our bills is up to me and only me to make. Every fear is mine to sit with, alone. Every bad day is mine to carry on my solo shoulders. There is no fallback. There are no co-pilots. I am Plan A through Z. I either make it all happen myself, or I fail my children. There’s no Hey can you handle this for a second?

Think about everything that has happened in your life since you had children. Now erase every memory that somehow involves your partner or your partner’s family. Erase their every helpful action, thought, gesture or kindness. Erase every time you texted Can you stop and get milk/antibiotics/wine on your way home? Erase every time they occupied the kids so you could pee or take out the trash or cook. Erase the times their family babysat or took the kids for a night or two so you could recharge. Erase every penny they earned, every benefit they provided.

How does that make you feel? Lonely? Isolated? Panicked?

I would do anything to have what coupled parents take for granted. Sharing the burdens (and joys!) of parenthood with someone who loves me and my son is my ultimate fantasy. I hope with all my heart that one day I’ll be able to give Jack a Daddy.

Make no mistake: I willingly chose to be a solo parent and I would choose it again one hundred million times. I knew it would be hard. I knew it would be inconvenient. I knew it would be isolating. I knew it would be expensive. It is still the absolute best decision I’ve ever made, and my life is so much better for having Jack and my foster children in it. I don’t want sympathy. I don’t need pity. I am not a victim.

In fact, solo parenting can be incredibly empowering. Yes, it’s all on me — but it’s all on me, baby! That house and those private schools? I worked my butt off to pay for it. The kind, loving, happy boy Jack has become? I did that. Rebounding from back-to-back layoffs by opening my own successful consulting business? Yup, rockstar. Sometimes I may not want to be Superwoman, but I am superwoman.

This isn’t about ranking types of parenting situations from “easiest” to “most difficult.” All parenting is brutal, and we’re all in this thing together. Every parent has good days and bad days. We all have things we lack and things we benefit from. Someone will always have it better and someone will always have it worse. (I read about a blind single foster mother with FOUR CHILDREN, all of whom are profoundly delayed. I should just delete this post now and be like, welp, I have nothing to complain about.)

This is about recognizing that you cannot understand the burden of being a single parent until you’ve lived it — and that’s not from your partner being out of town for a few days (although that will certainly give you a sneak peek into our world).

Please, don’t tell us you know what it’s like. Don’t tell us it’s just as hard as having a partner. We don’t need or want your sympathy, but maybe take a moment to realize all of the incredible benefits you and your children enjoy from having a two-parent household — and give us some credit for raising our children without all of those perks.