Stephanie Land

As a mother living in poverty, I don't expect my parenting choices to be respected by default.

During my last year of college, I maxed out what small available credit I had after declaring bankruptcy in my mid-20s to pay medical bills.

I think people are fed up with struggling to make ends meet. It's so easy to find yourself in a position of not being able to pay the bills for most Americans when we're watching the cost of housing and child care and health insurance skyrocket without an increase in wage.

My life as a mother had been one of skipping meals, always saving the 'good' food, like fresh fruit, for the kids I told myself deserved it more than I did.

When I saw the letter of acceptance for Snap - the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, popularly known as food stamps - it was a moment of gratitude, and brief catharsis and relief. Still, I knew it wasn't a socially acceptable means to feed my family with. I saw the memes friends posted, chastising people on welfare.

Remember The Nothing? It was a gigantic, black storm from 'The Neverending Story' that fed on fear and doubt and sadness and hate and uncertainty and didn't stop until everything was gone. That is what Trump feels like to me.

I don't like to think of goals I set at the new year as resolutions. I like to think of them as summits on my personal mountain. Each year gets me closer to the dreams I want to achieve, and the goals are those benches to sit and enjoy the view along the way.

Tinder makes it obvious that I'm not alone in being single and that there are plenty of single parents looking for a partner. A date not having the potential I'd hoped for is no longer a tragedy, and suddenly dating is fun again. I no longer feel pressured. I trust that someone, eventually, will like me for me.

Dating means hope.

Dating as a single parent is tricky. My kids are usually seen less as a 'bonus' and more as a 'situation.'

Christmas has rarely been a joyous time for me. I'm estranged from my family, and sometimes I don't have my oldest daughter with me.

Keeping the magic alive can be as simple as going to the mall to sit on Santa's lap or reading special stories on Christmas Eve.

The small things that make Christmas magical are the things children will remember. It doesn't matter what they open on Christmas morning, I don't remember what was in half the boxes I opened as a kid. What mattered were the decorations, the cookies that were mysteriously eaten, and the stockings that were filled.

Cleaning companies often pay their employees less than a living wage and offer no sick days or health insurance. My years of working for them still made me grimace every time I saw a little yellow car with 'Merry Maids' written on the side.