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 provide support for those struggling with toxic or emotionally abusive family dynamics. I understand what it’s like to feel trapped in unhealthy patterns, walking on eggshells, or being made to feel like the problem for simply setting boundaries. Through my own experiences of navigating family dysfunction and learning to protect my peace, I’ve gained deep empathy and insight into how painful and confusing these relationships can be. I offer a safe space to talk openly, sort through emotions, and find the strength to heal and move forward without guilt or shame.

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?

Life has thrown me more than my fair share of obstacles! Illness from childhood. Broken home. GenX childhood- so I basically raised myself AND my younger brother. Teen pregnancy... so married at 17. Abusive home, eventually into a single parent home. Latchkey kid. Yet.... I am still married, yes, to the same man, over 35 years later. We raised 3 kids into adulthood to be independent, and all college educated. I owned my own business and then ran a multi-level beauty company that I grew over 10 fold in 10 years, eventually having to leave due to my declining health, but I was very successful at what I did. I found successes and happiness in spite of a lot life has thrown at me. Resilience, creativity, resourcefulness, and the ability to get up and dust myself off to keep going even when I feel awful... all things I value, but I also value kindness, honesty, caring and friendship even more.

I’ve lived a full life—with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. I'm a mother of two sons of retirement age: the younger, I'm total estranged from, and it's the same as losing a child; the elder, a practicing alcoholic, is tricky. As a former marriage and family therapist, a caregiver for my dad during his final years, and someone who has fought my own battles with addiction and recovery, I deeply understand being in hard places. My struggles were relationship acceptance and guilt and shame. I was an inadequate parent and it brought great pain to us all. But I finally sought help. I no longer accept the unrealistic perfect mother model. Once I understood my boundaries, our relationship improved. I stopped listening to abusive complaints. Now we can tell when things are "going south" and we can gracefully withdraw from conflict. Acceptance and boundaries are game changers. They can be for you, too. Let me support and help guide you in this process.

I’ve faced some heavy mental loads and for years felt like I was trying to connect with people while speaking a different emotional language. It made relationships hard—romantic ones, friendships, even basic conversations at work. I’d either shut down or go all in too fast, and that constant push-pull left me feeling isolated and misunderstood. But over time, and with support, I started to explore my needs and patterns. No two people relate the same way, and there’s no single right way to “do” relationships. Through my work as a Peer Support Specialist, I’ve helped people figure out what healthy connection looks like for them—whether that means setting better boundaries, healing from past hurt, or just figuring out how to express themselves without fear. I believe connection starts with self-understanding, and I love helping people get there. You don’t have to fit a mold to have meaningful relationships. You just need someone who gets it and walks alongside you as you figure it out.

Growing up mainly involved managing my parent's emotions instead of the other way around. Conversations felt unpredictable—sometimes too much, sometimes too little—and I found myself taking on roles I wasn’t meant to carry. Whether it was absorbing their stress, minimizing my feelings to keep the peace, or feeling unseen in moments when I needed support. It shaped the way I viewed myself and my relationships. I struggled to untangle what was me versus what was a survival response to the dynamics I grew up with. It took time, reflection, and effort to recognize that I didn’t have to carry the emotional weight of others. Learning to separate my identity from my upbringing gave me space to redefine self-worth on my terms and finally set emotional boundaries. If you’ve ever felt like you’ve had to shrink yourself, over-function, or fight to be understood, let’s explore how you can step into your own identity—without guilt or fear, and heal from the impact of emotionally immature parents.

It is hard being the child of an alcoholic father. It's difficult carrying the shame, guilt, resentment, anger, and many more emotions along with learning how to adapt and thrive and cope with having no contact and my father not being in my life. I've learned that I have been better off without him and his toxicity, and I have learned to stand on my own two feet and to be proud of myself for all of my accomplishments. Most importantly, I'm proud of myself for not following in his ways. I've learned to accept myself in my own eyes, instead of seeking validation and acceptance in other ways that weren't healthy.

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.

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.

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.

Growing up, I learned to hide my emotions because there was no safe place to express them. I became the girl who “never got upset” but inside, I did. I was just unheard. I refuse to pass that silence down to my daughters. Parenting from the healed place means creating space for their voices, modeling vulnerability, and breaking cycles of silence. It also means reparenting myself so I can show up fully for them. If you want better for your kids than how you were raised, let's talk about how we break the cycle together.

For a long time, I attracted controlling and entitled people because I was raised with narcissistic parents. I even married someone that was that way and had friends too.

Healing from trauma often feels like swimming upstream, especially when the people around you don’t understand or acknowledge your pain. Family dynamics can be some of the hardest waters to navigate. The same people who hurt you are often the ones you feel obligated to stay connected to, or even love in ways that don’t honor your own healing. I’ve had to face this challenge myself—balancing the desire for connection with the need for self-protection. The truth is, healing from trauma doesn’t always mean cutting off family. Sometimes, it means learning how to show up for yourself in their presence. Setting boundaries that are both firm and loving. And learning to hold space for the reality that people may never change in the ways you want them to. In my own journey, I’ve had to face painful truths about my family’s role in my trauma. I’ve had to find the courage to protect myself while still navigating relationships that are deeply rooted in my history. And I’ve learned that healing isn’t just about what you leave behind—it’s also about how you choose to move forward, even with the difficult people and dynamics still in your life. If you’re struggling with how to show up for yourself while still holding space for family, I’d love to talk. You don’t have to go through it alone.

Raising teens and tweens has been one of the most rewarding yet challenging experiences of my life. I’ve watched my kids grow through periods of emotional turbulence, feeling the weight of social pressures, schoolwork, sports, and the constant pull of their social media worlds. As they’ve transitioned into their twenties and teen years, I’ve learned firsthand how to balance the emotional sensitivity that comes with adolescence, their growing independence, and the increasingly demanding schedules they face. In my experience, navigating this stage of parenting isn’t just about guiding them through external challenges, but about fostering a safe environment where they can express themselves without fear of judgment. It also means learning to support their emotional needs while still giving them the space to grow into their own person. Social media, peer pressure, and the stress of academic and extracurricular expectations can be overwhelming for both them and you as a parent. I’ve had to find ways to help my kids process these pressures while also setting healthy boundaries that support their mental and emotional well-being. If you’re finding it difficult to manage the emotional ups and downs, the busyness, and the social media pressures that come with raising teens and tweens, I’d love to offer my support. Whether it’s about making your home a safe space for them and their friends to land or preparing for the college search & empty-nest years, I can help you find strategies to create a balanced and supportive family environment.

I became a mom at 19. At first, the father was supportive, but he left just months into my pregnancy, and I quickly realized I’d be doing this on my own. When my daughter was later diagnosed with high-functioning autism, I was overwhelmed and unsure where to turn. I didn’t know much about autism then, and I didn’t have a strong support system. But I dug deep. I asked questions, sought resources, and showed up every day, no matter how hard it got. Over the years, I’ve learned how to advocate, how to nurture my daughter’s independence, and how to honor both her needs and mine. She’s now a young adult, and watching her grow into herself has been the most rewarding part of my life. If you’re feeling isolated, exhausted, or just need someone who gets it, I’m here. I know how heavy it can feel—and how strong you really are.

It can be challenging to manage relationships with siblings as an adult: past conflict, difficulty setting boundaries, and developing an identity that is unfamiliar to them all contribute to the complex web of family dynamics. As a teenager and young adult, I struggled with maintaining boundaries with my siblings, and as I became more authentic, relaxed, and confident, some of those relationships became very challenging. I have learned to approach things differently, developing a sense of stability in myself through the upheaval of redefining relationships.

My son was so depressed for a year and a half, that he missed a large part of the school year. At first, I didn’t understand or recognize it as depression, and I was pushing him to go to school very hard, which led to him getting even more frustrated with himself. After talking to a family coach, we were able to diagnose the real issue, and ask my son open ended questions to try and understand the reasons behind his depression. Then when I took the pressure off and worked on helping him feel good about himself, the depression was able to lift and he made all A’s at school the next year, and made several friends he could hang out with after school as well.

I didn’t really realize that I had anger issues until I got married and had kids. Then I discovered that when my husband and I had arguments, I couldn’t let things go and would feel so wounded by him wanting to retreat from an argument that I would explode. This looked like being verbally abusive, and even throwing things or hitting him. I would feel so ashamed afterwards and apologize profusely. I desperately wanted to change. I eventually went to see a counselor and talked through different ways to communicate with my husband, and because I valued the relationship so deeply I managed to stop exploding with him. Unfortunately, this meant that a lot of anger was then directed at my kids. After years of struggling to manage my anger, I finally realized the need for a deep healing journey, to uncover the unconscious roots that were underneath the explosive rage. In the process I became very good at identifying my feelings underneath the anger, since anger is a secondary emotion. Knowing what those underlying feelings are has been very helpful for me, along with what my triggers are. I have also discovered some healthy ways to vent anger that don’t hurt other people that I could share with you. Today I still experience anger sometimes, everyone does, but it no longer controls my life and I don’t see it as an awful thing that I have to avoid or hold in until I just can’t anymore. Instead, it can be an indication of where I still need some healing, or a healthy emotion that I feel when someone hurts me that I can release or confidently express without doing damage.

Back in September 2024, I received a phone call that my mother had been found my local police sitting in her seemingly confused about how she got there and uncertain how to get home. I flew to Ohio the next day. I discovered that my mother had let the cleanliness and clutter of her home get out of control, that she had not been taking her medication, and that her financial life was getting out hand as she was not being diligent with paying her bills. For the next three weeks, I organized her home, finances, and health visits. I also noticed that she was not sleeping during the night and was suffering from bouts of disorientation. Now, over a year later, my mother, still insists on living on her own. I am respectful of this, but also have stepped up to ensure that her bills are paid, doctors' visits are happening, and that her home stays in good shape. It is difficult to "parent" a parent, but also one that has made us better at communication with each other.