I couldn't go and get a loan, it would be impossible.
Across Australia, thousands of single mothers are quietly absorbing a financial burden the system was never designed for them to carry alone. Fixed household costs — energy, rent, insurance, stamp duty — were structured around the assumption of two incomes, yet solo parents meet them on one. The gap between that assumption and lived reality is not merely inconvenient; it is a structural inequity that compounds with every rate rise, every lending assessment, and every property purchase, pushing homeownership and basic stability further from reach.
- Energy bills climbing past $1,000 a quarter land entirely on one income, with no partner to split the cost and no policy relief to soften the blow.
- Stamp duty thresholds and first-home buyer exclusions punish single parents who are effectively starting over, treating their circumstances as if nothing has changed.
- Borrowing power shrinks by nearly $50,000 the moment a dependent child is declared, forcing some women to liquidate businesses or assets just to secure a home.
- Three women — in Sydney, the NSW South Coast, and Melbourne — describe the same wall: a lending and taxation system built for dual-income households that leaves solo parents perpetually behind.
- Advocates and those living it are now asking whether policymakers will reform the structural assumptions baked into energy pricing, property law, and credit assessment — or whether silence will serve as the answer.
Nicki Price opens her quarterly energy bill with a familiar dread. The Sydney single mother of two pays around $550 every three months to keep her household running — a figure that climbs in winter, and one she meets entirely alone. She has carried this so long that she struggles to imagine what sharing it might feel like.
Researchers call it the "single tax": not a formal levy, but the structural reality that fixed household costs do not shrink when only one adult is earning. Energy, rent, groceries, insurance — everything a two-income household divides lands on one set of shoulders. The average Australian spends nearly $1,900 annually on energy. For a single parent, that is their bill in full.
On the NSW South Coast, Lisa Almond watches her quarterly energy bill approach $1,000. "There's no dividing it if the rate increases," she said. When she later tried to buy a home as a single parent, she encountered a second layer of disadvantage: stamp duty of roughly $54,000 on a mid-range property, and no access to first-home buyer concessions because she had owned property before — even though she was now saving alone, starting, in her words, from scratch.
The lending system tells the same story. A single person earning $120,000 a year can borrow around $621,000. Add one dependent child, and that figure drops by nearly $50,000. Melbourne skincare founder Catherine Cervasio hit this wall when she sought to buy her own apartment after two decades as a solo parent. No lender would approve the amount she needed. She sold her business warehouse to raise the deposit instead.
All three women describe a system built around an assumption that no longer holds — that parents live in dual-income households. Almond, who has spent years working toward stability, put it plainly: while nuclear families are struggling, single-parent households are barely surviving. The question now is whether the policies governing energy pricing, property taxation, and lending will be reformed to reflect the world as it actually is.
Nicki Price opens her energy bill each quarter with a familiar dread. The Sydney single mother of two pays around $550 every three months just to keep the lights on and the house warm. When winter hits, that number climbs. She has grown so accustomed to shouldering the entire cost alone that she struggles to imagine what relief might feel like if someone else were there to split it.
Price is one of thousands of Australian single mothers caught in what researchers call the "single tax"—a financial penalty for living alone that compounds brutally when children enter the picture. It is not a formal levy, but rather the structural reality that fixed household costs do not shrink when there is only one adult earning income. Energy bills, rent, groceries, insurance: everything that a two-person household might divide down the middle lands entirely on one set of shoulders. Research by Compare the Market found the average Australian spends $156.43 per month on energy, totalling $1877 annually. For a single parent, that full amount is their responsibility. Around 40 per cent of people living alone estimated they could save up to $100 per month simply by sharing housing costs with another adult.
Lisa Almond, who lives with her youngest son on the NSW South Coast near Illawarra, has watched her quarterly energy bill climb to nearly $1000. "There's no dividing it if the rate increases," she said. "We're still paying the same amount for energy consumption as if we have had multiple people in the house." The mathematics are unforgiving. A household with two incomes can absorb rising utility costs across two paycheques. A single mother absorbs them alone.
The squeeze extends far beyond monthly bills. When Almond decided to buy a home after becoming a single parent, she discovered a second layer of financial disadvantage. Stamp duty in New South Wales costs approximately $54,000 on a property valued at $1.324 million. Because she had owned property before, she was ineligible for first-home buyer concessions—even though she was now saving on a single income and starting, in her words, "from scratch with no access to any government policies."
Borrowing power tells the same story. According to Commonwealth Bank's lending calculator, a single person earning $120,000 annually with $2500 in monthly expenses can be approved for a loan of $621,300. Add a single dependent child, and that figure drops to $572,700—a reduction of nearly $50,000. Catherine Cervasio, a Melbourne skincare founder who has been a single parent for two decades, faced this wall directly. When she wanted to buy her own apartment, no lender would approve her for the amount she needed. She sold her business warehouse to raise the down payment. "I couldn't go and get a loan, it would be impossible," she said.
All three women describe a system designed around an assumption that no longer reflects reality: that parents live in dual-income households. The policies that govern energy pricing, property taxation, and lending criteria were built for that world. Single mothers operate in a different one entirely. Almond, who has spent years clawing toward financial stability, put it plainly: while nuclear families are struggling, single parent households are "barely surviving." She added that it takes years just to reach a point where the weekly stress about bills begins to ease. The question now is whether policymakers will acknowledge that the system itself is broken, or whether single mothers will continue absorbing costs designed for two.
Citas Notables
There's no dividing it if the rate increases. We're still paying the same amount for energy consumption as if we have had multiple people in the house.— Lisa Almond, single mother, Illawarra NSW
It literally takes years to just get to the point where you're not stressing every single week about every single bill.— Lisa Almond
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does the energy bill hit single mothers so much harder than it hits, say, a couple without kids?
Because the bill doesn't change based on how many people are paying it. A household uses a certain amount of electricity—for heating, cooking, laundry, all of it. That cost is fixed. A couple splits it. A single mother pays all of it from one income.
But doesn't a child use less energy than an adult would?
Sure, in some ways. But the source of the problem isn't really about consumption. It's about the assumption built into how we price utilities and how we lend money. The system assumes two incomes. When there's only one, everything becomes proportionally more expensive.
The borrowing power drop—nearly $50,000 less—that seems like it should be illegal.
It's not illegal because it's technically rational from a lender's perspective. They look at income and expenses. A single parent has the same expenses as before, but now they're also responsible for a child. The math says they can borrow less. But the effect is that they can't buy a home.
So Catherine Cervasio had to sell her business warehouse to buy an apartment. That's not just unfair—that's destructive.
Exactly. She had to liquidate an asset that was generating income just to get into the housing market. Most people don't have a warehouse to sell. Most single mothers have nothing left to liquidate.
Is this a new problem, or have single mothers always faced this?
The structure has always been there, but the costs have accelerated. Energy bills are climbing. Property prices are climbing. A system that was already unfair is becoming unsustainable. That's why these women are speaking up now.
What would actually fix it?
Policy reform. First-home buyer concessions for single parents who've owned before. Energy pricing that accounts for household composition, not just consumption. Lending standards that don't penalize solo earners for having dependents. None of it is radical—it's just acknowledging that the current system doesn't work.