The summer holidays are fast approaching and as a solo mum, you can already feel it. That knot of anxiety already sitting in your chest. Six weeks of unstructured time, no routine, no school drop-off to give the day shape, childcare logistics, the juggle of work. And an awareness that everyone else seems to be navigating it with a partner by their side, which feels like it would be so much easier.
It can feel lonely. I won’t pretend it can’t. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
The summer I just survived
My first summer navigating school holidays as a solo mum was really hard. I spent most of it feeling pretty stressed, wondering how I was going to get through. Juggling work with six weeks of childcare felt overwhelming, and by the time I’d sorted the logistics, I had no headspace left to think about whether I was actually enjoying any of it. Quite frankly, I wasn’t. I was just getting through each day.
I think a lot of solo mums know that feeling. You’re in survival mode before the first week is even out. And on top of the logistics, there’s that worry specific to solo parents, that your child might be missing out. That two parents could somehow give them more than you can alone.
And then there’s the loneliness. The feeling that everyone in a partnership must be finding this much easier and more enjoyable than you, and that no-one else understands the pressure of trying to manage it solo. Scrolling Instagram and seeing the idyllic family holiday moments, wondering why your summer seems to be mostly stress and arguments rather than anything that looks like that.
The year everything shifted
Last summer, I made a conscious decision. I wasn’t going to just survive the holidays. I was going to enjoy them.
Not perfectly, and not every single day. But I was going to stop waiting for them to be over. Stop counting down to September and the return of routine. Stop wishing my life away.
Something changed. The same number of weeks, the same childcare juggle, the same lot to manage. But I approached it differently. I’d organised things the best I possibly could, accepted what I couldn’t control, and came to it with a completely different attitude.
The thing I kept coming back to: you find what you’re looking for. If you go into the summer feeling stressed, alone, and like it’s all too much, that is exactly what you’ll find. But if you take it one day at a time and actively look for the precious moments, you find those instead. It sounds almost too simple. But it changed everything for me.
I stopped ruminating on what was hard and started looking for what was lovely. I accepted the juggle for what it was and focused on how I could best manage it, rather than resenting it. Slowly, the manic parts started to feel less intense. Not because they disappeared, but because I stopped giving them all my attention.
And the loneliness? It barely gets a look in anymore. My summer is totally full. The only time loneliness ever crept in before was when I let myself fall into comparison. When I told myself that everyone in a partnership has it easy and is living some perfect life. That’s not reality. That’s what happens when you spend too long scrolling Instagram instead of actually living your own summer.
Stop looking for the big moments
I think we put a lot of pressure on summer to be this spectacular event. An Instagram highlight reel. The family holiday photos. The endless fun. And when you’re a solo mum watching everyone else’s summers on social media, it’s easy to feel like yours doesn’t measure up.
What helped me was stopping looking for the big things and starting to notice the small ones.
Running around the garden barefoot, a quick trip to the beach after work (or a park if you’re not lucky enough to live near the coast). A few quiet moments with a brew in the sun, whilst watching your children play a made up game. Eating breakfast and tea alfresco in the garden. These things don’t look like much from the outside. But they’re what summer actually feels like when you’re noticing it.
I started making sure that every day, even an extremely busy day, had something in it just for me. Not a big thing. Just a small, deliberate moment of enjoyment. As well as something for my daughter and I. Again, even just a small moment of connection. And it changed the experience of the entire summer.
When you stop bracing yourself for the summer juggle and start actually embracing things as they are, things can feel a lot less stressful.
What my summers look like now
This summer, I have plans with other people threaded all the way through, as well as some one-on-one time with my daughter, and I can already feel the difference.
We’re kicking off with our annual solo mum camping trip, which has become one of my favourite things we do. Here I feel a massive sense of belonging as everyone gets the situation. My daughter said it was the favourite thing about her summer last year.
We have booked in two festivals, both with other solo parents, so the kids have friends to run wild with and I have adults I actually want to talk to, who again, get my situation. We have a week away with granny, which is its own kind of magic. And I have deliberately kept a few weekends at home too, because downtime is also part of the plan.
I’ve planned a summer I am genuinely excited about, not one I am bracing myself to get through. I’m not trying to pretend it’s not a lot. Trying to keep on top of work is hard. But I’m giving myself a bit of a break from thinking I have to create huge moments every day.
And honestly? I’m not in the slightest bit lonely. Not because solo parenting is always easy, but because I’ve surrounded myself with people who make it feel totally full. And I’ve dropped all comparison with how others do things.
Your people change everything
The loneliness of solo parenting in summer can be so real. When the routine drops away and everyone around you seems to have a partner to share the load, the gap can feel very visible.
But here’s what I’ve learnt: the antidote isn’t having a partner. It’s having your people.
That means finding your community and leaning into it. It means making plans in advance rather than hoping something will come together. It means being willing to say “I don’t want to do this alone” and then actively building something different.
Your summer doesn’t have to feel lonely. But it might need a little more intention and planning. And you might have to reframe things a bit.
If you’re heading into the holidays with weeks that feel empty, start small. Reach out to one person. Lock in one plan. See what that does to how the rest of it feels. If you’re heading into the holidays with weeks that feel unmanageable, reframe things slightly. Look for small moments of magic from each day.
The summer that doesn’t feel lonely is available to you. It just starts with deciding to build it.
If you want a community of women who genuinely get it, come and join us in Thriving Solo. It’s a space built for exactly this kind of season, and you don’t have to figure it out on your own. Need help with the reframes? We have Thrive Bites (10 minute video clips that help coach you through how to reframe things) inside the membership that can help you do exactly that.
And if you’re not already following along on Instagram, come and find me at @the_stork_and_i. I share a lot more over there.
Photo by Ethan Robertson on Unsplash





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