I’ve been in recovery for over 10 years, and one of the biggest parts of my story is being a parent. I have three kids, and let me be honest—parenting is hard. It’s beautiful and full of love, but it can also be exhausting and overwhelming. One thing I’ve learned along the way is that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of my kids. When I make my recovery and my well-being a priority, I’m able to show up for them with more patience, presence, and love. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being real, and doing the best we can one day at a time. I want to share my experience because I know how much it helps to hear from others who are walking a similar path. You’re not alone in the challenges, and you’re not alone in the victories either.

I went through a whirlwind of life transitions, including raising my daughter alone through to adulthood, facing the empty nest, returning to college, and pursuing my Bachelor's and Master's degrees, as well as a graduate certificate. I was navigating extreme change from dyeing my hair fun colors and exploring dating to marrying and separating in a blink of an eye. I know what it feels like to hit the reset button, no matter your age. Suddenly, I found my way back to myself. Let's work together to embrace your next pivot and build resilience when life feels like it's spinning out of control.

I got married at a young age to someone who was nine years my senior. The person I married was someone who was a privileged individual who couldn't see eye to eye with me on many issues, topics, and ways of being. After the divorce, I realized that a great portion of my life had slipped through my fingers, and I lost myself. Before marriage, I was involved in numerous creative activities where I felt free. When my ex moved out, every emotion imaginable welled up in me. I felt like I could breathe while grieving the absence of items that I had become accustomed to seeing every day. Once I moved past the grieving stage, I found myself engaging in hobbies and activities that lifted my spirit. I also grieved the person I was before marriage. She is still in me, but she is older, wiser, and more resilient.

Being an adult child of divorce, i fully understand what divorce does not to the family, but to the children involved. I know what it is like to experience parental alienation in the eyes of children, and i know what it feels like to feel torn between households once the divorce is completed.

Becoming a parent for the first time changed me in ways I never expected. It cracked me open—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I felt love so big it scared me. I also felt grief, fear, rage, and loneliness that no one warned me about. The world expects new parents to feel nothing but joy, but the truth is far more layered—especially if you carry trauma, mental health challenges, or didn’t grow up feeling safe or fully loved yourself. When I had my first living child, I was still healing from the devastating loss of my firstborn. That made parenthood even more emotional and sacred—but also incredibly hard. I was navigating grief while changing diapers. Trying to reparent myself while learning how to raise someone else. All while sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, and unsure if I was doing it "right." I’ve learned that parenting isn’t just about raising a child—it’s about becoming someone new. Shedding old identities. Confronting triggers. Stretching your heart beyond what you thought possible. And sometimes, it’s about quietly surviving the day and trying again tomorrow. If you’re in the thick of it—tired, unsure, deeply in love but also overwhelmed—I see you. You're not alone.

My parents had me when they were in their 40s, so I became a primary caregiver and decision-maker much earlier than most of my peers. Since my parents' passing, my husband and I have started living with his mother, anticipating caregiver duties which are coming soon. Moving from child to a more, well, "parental" role is one of the most challenging changes in family dynamics anyone will face, and one of the least talked about. Whether they stay in their own home, move in with you (or you with them) or they transition to an adult care or nursing home, facing their aging, changing health, and needs can be beyond overwhelming. How do you talk to them about driving, about their budget, about end-of-life? How do you balance your own personal and professional responsibilities while taking on a more active role in your parents' care? And, for many of us, how do we negotiate difficult relationships with our parents now that they need so much of our attention and energy?

Talk to me about surviving domestic violence. I understand what it’s like to live through and parent through fear, confusion, and rebuilding. We can talk about safety, grief, and rediscovering yourself at your own pace.

For the parents doing double-duty and still wondering if it’s enough. When you’re raising kids on your own, it’s easy to feel like there needs to be more—more time, more opportunities, more money for the extras that other families seem to have. You pour yourself into providing the best you can, but carrying the weight of two people can make even your best feel like it falls short. Do you feel like no matter what you do, it never measures up? If you’re a solo parent exhausted from giving it all and still questioning if you’re failing, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to admit the guilt and pressure you’ve been holding. Maybe you want to release the shame of not having a partner, or talk about the fear that you’ll never feel “whole” enough for love again. However you show up, I get it—I’ve had those same doubts as a solo mom, and we can work through them together.

I have been abandoned by my parents that is always mold and need to find relationships with the wrong people. I was adopted, but never really close with them until my later years I have spent years in a shadow of a sibling and with her being murdered I had to learn how to find myself and love myself for me. I have been through toxic relationship, relationships, abusive relationship, relationships physically, and emotionally and mentally I dealt with death of many family and friends and a boyfriend I have dealt with anxiety and depression of my own, and I’ve seen it I have dealt with A family member that has committed suicide. I have dealt with having children with someone and being a single mom thinking we were a family and we weren’t. I’ve had to learn how to constantly grow and change in my surroundings and adapt in situations that are fell upon my feet and always trying to find a positive light so I could be the best version of myself for me and my children.

In 2023, I had a panic attack that made me feel like I was dying, and it sent me down a spiral of anxiety I didn’t know how to climb out of. To cope, I turned to alcohol—but the drinking only made everything worse. My then-wife didn’t believe in anxiety or mental health struggles, and the more I tried to get help, the more she pushed my buttons. It became clear that I had to choose: my marriage, or my life. I chose me. I checked myself into detox and moved to a brand new city alone. I didn’t know a soul, but I chose to live in a sober living house. That decision saved my life. Starting over wasn’t easy—I had to rebuild my identity, my support system, and my peace. I found therapy, breathing techniques, and meditation to calm my mind. And now, I’m a Peer Recovery Coach with multiple certifications and working toward my degree in psychology. I know what it’s like to feel lost, and I also know what it’s like to come back stronger. If you're navigating sobriety, a toxic relationship, or both, I’d be honored to walk beside you.

Healing didn’t stop just because I became a mom. In fact, parenting exposed my deepest wounds. There were days when I wondered: How do I heal myself and still show up for them? The truth is, I didn’t have to be perfect, but I did have to make the decision to be present. My daughters became both my reason to heal and do better for myself in all aspects. Parenting while healing is messy, but it’s also a chance to break generational cycles in real time. I'm glad you're here. Let's talk about it.

When I had my first child at 21, my world shifted in two opposite directions at once. Just two months later, my mother passed away unexpectedly. The joy of becoming a parent and the heartbreak of losing one collided in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Those early days felt overwhelming. I was caring for a newborn while grieving, and I often asked myself how I could possibly raise my child without my mother’s guidance. The advice, support, and simple presence I thought I’d always have were suddenly gone. What helped me find my footing was holding onto everything she left behind—the memories we shared, the lessons she taught me, and even the moments I once thought were mistakes. Slowly, I realized those pieces could come together into a kind of roadmap, guiding me in raising my child the way I believe she would have encouraged me to. It wasn’t easy, but it gave me a way to honor her and still feel her presence in my parenting journey.

For a long time, I struggled with parenting. After giving birth to my children, I no longer recognized who I had become. It took me a while to realize that motherhood/parenthood, are not my whole identity. I had to decide for myself what parenting after divorce looked like, not what society or family told me it should be. That journey meant being vulnerable enough to admit I carried resentment and anger. Two phrases changed everything for me: “You were someone before you were a parent, and she is still there” and “You can hate motherhood and still love your children.” For the first time, I felt truly seen and heard. Once I addressed my own mental health around parenting, I realized there was very little support for parents navigating their child’s tough behaviors or mental health needs. After healing some of my own traumas, I knew I could step into that gap and offer the kind of support I once needed.

While I never looked up to my parents’ relationship as an ideal, I didn’t realize there were serious problems until fairly recently. After more than 30 years of marriage, they decided to get divorced (a decision that came after my dad suffered a stroke and began experiencing noticeable personality changes). Unfortunately, he refuses to acknowledge those changes, which caused increasing tension between him and my mom and eventually led to him moving out. At the beginning of their separation, both of my parents involved me heavily, often trying to pit me against the other. It was emotionally exhausting and put a strain not only on my relationship with each of them but also on the broader family. Many of us didn’t know how to handle the shifting dynamics, and it led to confusion, discomfort, and conflict. Ultimately, I’ve gone very low contact with my dad and relatively low contact with my mom. But the situation is fluid. I’ve left room for things to change if and when I feel they’re making meaningful efforts. It’s been painful, but it’s also helped me grow into a deeper acceptance of the reality of adult family dynamics. One unexpected positive is that my brother (who’s 10 years older) and I have started comparing notes about our childhoods and discovered some shared experiences we hadn’t talked about before. If you're navigating the breakup of your parents’ long-term marriage (especially as an adult), I want you to know that it’s okay to feel grief, anger, confusion, and even relief all at once. I can help you make sense of the shifting relationships, set boundaries, and find peace in the messiness.

Life has challenged me in many ways: navigating divorce, raising 2 children as a single parent, experiencing job loss, and facing burnout. There were times I felt overwhelmed and stuck, unsure how to move forward amid so much change. What helped me most were honest moments of being truly heard, developing steady wellness routines, and learning to be patient with myself through the process. My experience as a doctor and trained listener deepened my understanding of how powerful it is to simply show up with care and attention. Now, I want to offer that same steady, compassionate presence to anyone facing similar struggles. Whether it’s relationship changes, family transitions, career shifts, or the feeling of being stuck,- I’m here to listen, support, and help you find your way forward, one conversation at a time

Caring for aging parents is a journey filled with both profound love and immense challenges. Balancing their needs with your own can feel overwhelming, leading to burnout, guilt, and a sense of lost identity. If you're struggling to navigate the complexities of caregiving, I'm here to offer support and guidance. From setting boundaries and finding resources to managing difficult conversations and prioritizing self-care, I can help you work through those challenges and understand that your well-being is essential to being there for others. And when the time comes to say goodbye, I can offer empathetic support as you navigate the grief and loss, helping you honor their memory while rebuilding your own life.

After my divorce, I found myself thrown into the deep end of single parenting. At first, I felt completely overwhelmed. My son was young, and I was trying to balance working, managing the household, and figuring out how to provide emotional stability for both of us. I didn’t always have the answers and often felt exhausted. One of the hardest things was adjusting to the silence in the house after the divorce—no more shared responsibilities or support. It was up to me to create the structure and calm that we needed. Over time, I learned how to communicate my needs more clearly, set boundaries, and prioritize self-care. I realized that I couldn’t pour from an empty cup, and that it was okay to ask for help and lean on my friends and family when I needed it. Now, after five years, I’ve become much more grounded in my role as a single mom. I’m no longer just surviving; I’m thriving, and I want to help others who are walking the same path.

I grew up in a conservative Baptist Christian family, where my siblings and I were always under a microscope. My mother was self-centered and egotistical, a trait she still carries to this day. This environment shaped my views on relationships, especially how I navigate family connections. Despite the challenges with my parents, I’ve always tried to teach my children the importance of love and acceptance. I encourage them to be the bigger person, even when faced with difficult behavior from family members, including their grandparents. My journey hasn’t been easy, but through navigating a single-parent household, becoming part of a stepfamily, and experiencing three significant relationships, I’ve learned invaluable lessons about love, commitment, and communication. These experiences have shaped my ability to set healthy boundaries, manage expectations, and cultivate meaningful connections. I firmly believe in the power of love and acceptance for all, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity, and I strive to instill these values in my family and relationships.

Life threw me a curveball more than once growing up with an alcoholic parent, then marrying someone who struggled with the same thing. The divorce was the final blow, but it didn’t break me. It was messy, it was painful, but it was also the beginning of a new chapter. Soon after, I found love again (yes, before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers), and suddenly, I was the proud dad of four kids: one biological, one adopted, and two stepchildren. Welcome to the world of co-parenting and blending families! I’ve leaned on a lot of things to get here, support groups like Al-Anon, therapy, and an unwavering belief in mental health (especially for men). I’ve walked the line between emotional chaos and clarity, and I know exactly what it’s like to feel overwhelmed, stuck, or uncertain about what comes next. I’ve helped other guys who are struggling with addiction, messy breakups, and the madness of co-parenting—and I’m here to tell you: you can rebuild. It might not be easy, but it is worth it.

Life threw me a curveball more than once growing up with an alcoholic parent, then marrying someone who struggled with the same thing. The divorce was the final blow, but it didn’t break me. It was messy, it was painful, but it was also the beginning of a new chapter. Soon after, I found love again (yes, before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers), and suddenly, I was the proud dad of four kids: one biological, one adopted, and two stepchildren. Welcome to the world of co-parenting and blending families! I’ve leaned on a lot of things to get here, support groups like Al-Anon, therapy, and an unwavering belief in mental health (especially for men). I’ve walked the line between emotional chaos and clarity, and I know exactly what it’s like to feel overwhelmed, stuck, or uncertain about what comes next. I’ve helped other guys who are struggling with addiction, messy breakups, and the madness of co-parenting—and I’m here to tell you: you can rebuild. It might not be easy, but it is worth it.