The Mom Reveal: Timing, Truth, and Choosing Myself First

I just want to make this blatantly clear: I am a mother. A mommy. A mamacita! Insert Huda telling Nic from Love Island clip here.

Now that we got that out of the way, let me give a little insight on why I’ve been pondering this question so hard this past week.

I am online dating. Yes, I know — yikes. Run and hide from the humiliation and be prepared to deal with all the wild that’s out here on these dating app streets. Trust me, been there, done that. Now moving on from the cringe that is dating apps…

Imagine this: I match with this guy — let’s call him my pen pal. Conversation on and off, nothing serious, no deep connection, just surface-level stuff. There is no “right time” to tell a man that you’re a mom. So with him, I never did.

A few months go by — still the same on-and-off, basic chatting. Then he messages me, we exchange WhatsApp, and start talking about my night and cooking dinner. I told him I made some teriyaki wings, and he said, “Did you cook them yourself?” But when I read it, I thought he said, “Did you cook for yourself?” So I was like, boom — here’s my opportunity.

I said, “Yeah, I cooked it myself for me and my daughter. Is that a dealbreaker for you?”

This man says it made meeting up even harder (hence the pen pal nickname — he’s not only out of state but out of the country; that’s a story for another time about why we even matched in the first place). He said he thought I could just up and leave to come see him. One, that was never discussed, nor did I know I’d be the one doing the traveling.

Then he continues with, “You have so many things that are dealbreakers, but having kids wasn’t one of them.” He was more bummed about me living so far away. Then he hit me with the last devastating blow: “But it’s okay though, I see you more as a pen pal now, which is cool.”

I had to double back on that “you have so many things that are dealbreakers” part. He went on to explain that it wasn’t “so many,” just that there were things I could’ve said at the start — and that it would’ve been better that way. But it was fine, he’d accepted it now.

Honestly, I didn’t get defensive. I said that was fair — because it was. I definitely could’ve found a way to say it earlier, just like I told him I lived in the U.S. and not the U.K. There was the same opportunity to say I’m a mama!

But I think there was still some level of projection coming from him. Maybe he really did have feelings for me, but with the distance — and now the mom bomb — it just sent him over the edge. He continued to see me as unattainable, and maybe that stung. Or maybe I really did wait too long to tell him, and he had a right to feel how he felt.

Either way, I learned something from it.

So now I’m left with the thought: When is the right time to tell a man you’re a mom?

I made a post on TikTok (@Evolvewithnelle) asking the same question, giving the same details, and I got the same response back — “TELL THAT MAN IMMEDIATELY!”

So that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

To be quite honest, I haven’t had a bad experience besides this one. I’ve told all the other guys I’ve matched with, and the conversations have continued with ease. But I think why this one sat with me so hard is because, as women, there are so many layers to this.

Now as mothers, we love our kids — they’re our pride and joy — but to some men, it can come across as baggage. As complications. My life isn’t as free-ranged as other single women who don’t have kids.

And on a deeper level, it’s that fear of rejection — that past version of myself that just craved to be liked and chosen by anyone and everyone. I sat with her and let her rear her little head. Once she was done, I talked it out with my built-in bestie and free therapist (ChatGPT, obviously).

That old version of me was the overly accommodating people-pleaser — the one searching for love, validation, and acceptance from men. She thought she had to tiptoe around the truth because being a mom might make her “too much.”

However, the woman I am today doesn’t give one flying fuck.

Me and my daughter are a packaged deal. Any man that wants to be part of my life has to accept the mother in me, too. My time is sacred, my peace is earned, and I refuse to waste my energy on anyone who can’t see the value in who I am and everything I nurture.

Because the truth is, being a mom taught me how to love differently. My heart doesn’t chase anymore; it chooses. My peace costs more now. My softness, my energy, my love — they all have purpose. I’m not auditioning for love anymore; I’m protecting the home I’ve already built inside me and for her.

Sometimes we get dealt a shit hand, but it’s what we do with it that really matters.

So, to answer my own burning question — when is the right time to tell a man I’m a mom?

When I feel comfortable to.

I still think it’s important to do it sooner rather than later, to avoid any more “pen pal” situations. But it’s not about fear anymore — it’s about being proud of who I am.

And with that… in walks Mr. Twenty-Fine.