In the run-up to Employability Day 2026, Emma Fairburn shares her personal perspective on what employability really means beyond the workplace. As a working, single parent, she reflects on why she chose to build a career, the importance of creating opportunities for herself and her family, and how meaningful employment can shape confidence, independence, and future aspirations for children. Through her own experiences, Emma explores the powerful connection between work, wellbeing, and creating a positive example for the next generation.
There are mornings and I won’t pretend otherwise, when the alarm goes off and the thought crosses my mind; another day of juggling, do I have it in the tank?
What if I called it? Stopped. Leaned into the safety net that’s there for a reason and let someone else carry it for a while?
I’m a single mum to three children. I juggle school runs, sick days, packed lunches, parents’ evenings, sports and the thousand invisible logistics that hold a family together; all before I’ve even opened my laptop. I’ve had moments of pure exhaustion where benefits didn’t feel like giving up. They felt like survival.
But every time I’ve stood at that crossroads, I’ve chosen to keep going. And I want to tell you why.
It’s not About Pride. It’s About Purpose.
Let me be clear: there is absolutely no shame in accessing benefits. The system exists because life is hard and sometimes people need support. Full stop.
But, for me, personally, the question was never really about money. It was about what I want my children to see.
My three children are watching me. Every day, they’re taking notes, not in the way teachers mean, but in the way that children do. Quietly. Constantly. Filing away what “normal” looks like. What adults do when things get hard.
What their mum does when she’s tired and stretched and wondering if it’s worth it.
I want them to see me get up anyway.
The Lesson I’m Teaching Without a Classroom
I’m not working to be a martyr. I’m not grinding myself into dust to prove a point. But I am, deliberately and consciously, living in a way that shows my children that work has value. Not just financial value, but human value.
Work gives us structure. It gives us identity. It connects us to something bigger than our own four walls. It builds the kind of quiet confidence that comes from knowing: I did that. I showed up. I made something happen today. I made an impact.
When I come home and my children ask how my day was, they’re learning that adults have days.
That work is real and sometimes hard and sometimes genuinely satisfying. They’re learning that effort and reward are linked, not always immediately, not always fairly, but meaningfully.
That’s not a lesson you can teach with words. You have to live it.
What “Choosing Work” Actually Looks Like
I want to be honest about this, because the “inspiring single mum” narrative can veer quickly into something that feels more like pressure than inspiration.
Choosing work has meant:
- Asking for help, and accepting it without guilt
- Being creative with childcare, flexible working and school holiday logistics
- Having hard conversations with employers about what I need
- Getting things wrong, dropping balls, apologising to my kids and trying again
- Finding work that has meaning to me because that makes it sustainable
It hasn’t looked like effortless juggling. It’s looked like imperfect, determined, sometimes chaotic forward motion.
And that, actually, might be the most important thing my children learn from watching me. Not that work is easy or glamorous, but that you can do hard things.
That you can be scared and tired and unsure and still keep going.
To Anyone Standing at That Crossroads
If you’re a lone parent weighing this up right now, I’m not here to tell you what to do. You know your situation, your children, your limits, better than anyone.
But if you’re looking for a reason to keep going, here’s mine:
My children will spend the majority of their adult lives working. I am shaping, right now, how they think about that. Whether they see work as something that happens to them or something they choose, build and grow in.
Whether they believe they are capable. Whether they know, in their bones, that their mum believed she was too.
That’s the inheritance I’m building. Not a savings account, though we’re working on that too. A mindset. A resilience. A quiet, unshakeable sense of what’s possible when you show up.
For them, and with them, I choose work. Every day.
