I had gotten myself into a relationship with a person who was sober, on house, arrest, and was going through the cycle of wanting to be better. And one snowy night I had found them passed out unknown what happened until they took my partner to the hospital, and I had found the bottle of vodka hiding from that relationship. I was the soul caretaker of someone who is suffering from. SUD. The relationship lasted 2 1/2 years and it was very codependent from me making sure that they were OK and for them having me as the caretaker there was abuse in the relationship from someone who did not want to get help I was able to leave that relationship completely heartbroken and tornand took time to grieve my own expectations from this person. I removed myself from my environment and started my healing journey while they got into another relationship while we were still together technically, I found myself now better because I was able to have the support from my friends to leave.

It has been my experience that while being a wife and a caregiver for a spouse with disabilities and mobility challenges I have had to learn to prioritize my self-care and boundaries and limitations and know when I need to ask for help or call for help because I don't have the strength to pick him up or move him into his wheelchair under my own capacity and need help and that I need to take care of myself in the process

My husband was chronically ill off and on for a couple of years, during which time he wasn’t really able to work or do much to help support our family of 6 at the time. This put a lot of strain on me because I was trying to juggle homeschooling our kids, working part time, and taking care of our home mostly by myself. I felt so alone during that time even though I had 5 other people around me everyday. I was stressed, exhausted, and overwhelmed. My husband unfortunately became depressed during this time because he wanted to be there for us more, but when he would try it would just end up making his symptoms worse and sending him back to bed for the day. He was seeking answers from doctors, who suggested all kinds of things including allergy shots, diet changes, exercise routines, medications, etc but nothing was really helping. I had to deal with my own somewhat irrational anger at my husband because while I knew he was doing everything he could to get better, I was left with so much responsibility. I even had a hard time accepting that he was really sick at times because the symptoms weren’t always easy to see on the surface, and unfortunately my father had little understanding and would tell him to do things like “just go for a run”. Thankfully, I was able to find some ways to take things off my plate like sending my kids to public school, and my husband slowly found his way back to health through emotional work as well as physical solutions.

I cared for Dad for 7 years, first in my home, then in his, each posing unique challenges. He was deferential in mine, but very controlling in his. I was building a professional practice, he was dealing with consequences of bladder cancer surgery. We had complicated feelings about each other: he praised my dedication to him, and feared I'd harm him with his medications; I resented leaving my home, being the caregiving sibling. I acted horribly at times (I locked him out of my RV which he dearly wanted to work on) and he reciprocated (making my friends feel unwelcome in his home). He'd call me by my mother's name. (Parental conflict was the norm growing up.) I came to have great compassion for her. We had moments of great generosity and we even had fun together, too. It brought out the worst and the best in us. But it never occurred to us to seek help, a trusted outsider to help provide perspective and verbalize frustrations. If this sounds familiar, let's work on it together.

I have experienced many situations that left me living in what I call "crisis mode," including growing up with an abusive parent, losing a parent suddenly as a teenager, marrying a man who became violent and abusive, and later caring for him through seven years of illness until he passed away. I have faced fertility challenges and, after eight years of trying, was finally successful with IVF and had twins, including seven months on bedrest. Tragically, one of my twins became seriously ill at 16 and battled numerous health issues until she passed away at 24 after a year in the ICU. Throughout all of this, I have navigated my own health challenges and am now disabled.

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?

Growing up, I didn’t have it easy—my mom struggled with her mental health, and I experienced instability and even homelessness at a young age. It took years of learning how to prioritize my own well-being and leaning on therapy and the right people to find my sense of peace and strength. Now, I’m a mom to two incredible neurodivergent daughters, including one with autism. Navigating their diagnoses, advocating for them, and building a safe and supportive environment has pushed me to grow in ways I never imagined. Through caregiving, trauma, and life’s curveballs, I’ve learned how to show up—with patience, resilience, and love. I know how hard it is to feel isolated and overwhelmed. That’s why I’m here: to be a calm, supportive voice when you need someone who just gets it.

I grew up in a conservative society, married young, and moved to a new country. For years, I didn’t even realize what abuse truly was. I endured physical, emotional, mental, and financial abuse, all while giving my marriage and partner 100% of myself — and more. I lost a home, I was beaten down in many ways, yet I kept pushing forward, believing that love and effort would eventually be enough. It wasn’t until twenty years into this rollercoaster that I sought hypnotherapy, searching for clarity. That single step became the beginning of my journey back to myself — to rediscovering my worth, my strength, and my voice. Five years later, I’m still on this path of growth. I remain in my marriage, but I now stand with strong boundaries, a renewed sense of self, and a business I’m proud to call my own. My story is not one of defeat, but of resilience. I’ve learned that healing is possible, no matter how late it may seem to begin, and that empowerment comes from within.

My mother lived with me over 12 years. She was healthy when she moved in but shortly afterwards she developed Alzheimer's. I walked beside her through her journey. I had to learn how to navigate self-care and her care. It is very difficult. The bulk of managing her care (i.e. finances, doctors/health) fell to me. It was demanding with significant emotional, physical and financial investment for me and my family. While rewarding, I had to learn to ask for help and then let go. Letting go was hard to do but I had to take steps to take care of me so that I could be a loving caregiver. Mom passed in March of 2025 after a traumatic fall. I then had to deal with all of the end of life details and grieve.

For years, I carried the weight of being a parent, a partner, and a man trying to make everything work. I gave everything to everyone else—my family, my job, my friends—and I left almost nothing for myself. I was burnt out, depressed, and lost in a cycle of self-neglect. I felt trapped, overwhelmed, and at times, I honestly didn’t know how I’d get through the day.I hit rock bottom. My body, mind, and spirit were screaming for help. I was isolated, tired, and drowning in guilt for feeling like I wasn’t enough. I realized that no matter how hard I worked or how much I gave, I couldn’t escape the sickness inside me—my depression and anxiety. It affected my work, my relationships, and my ability to be a parent, so I went to therapy, took meds, read books, and built myself back up.

I was my dad's caregiver for 7 years. He had multiple health conditions and double bypass surgery. I juggled work life balance, and also my own health. I lost my dad earlier this year and It's a very hard thing to go through. I lost my mom to cancer in 2016, and also helped care for her. We all grieve in our own ways, I am here to listen and talk you through that grief and immense sorrow.

For the ones carrying the weight of caregiving and wondering how much longer you can keep going. When your days revolve around doctor’s appointments, medications, and constant worry, it’s easy to forget that you deserve grace. Resentment creeps in even though you love the person you’re caring for, and the financial strain of missed work or hard choices only adds to the guilt. It can feel like you’re choosing between their needs and your well-being—either way, you’re the one left drained. Do you feel like no one really understands what you’re carrying? That you don’t even know how to ask for help, or what kind of help would actually make a difference? If you’re overwhelmed, grieving, and running on empty, let’s talk. Maybe you need to vent the resentment you’ve been ashamed to admit, or maybe you want to unpack the guilt of not being able to do it all. I’ve been there too. What kept me going was allowing outside support and rewriting the expectations I thought I had to live up to.

For a long time I was a people pleaser, and through therapy and lots of self reflection and work with the tools I was given in therapy, I learned that it all stemmed from the abandonment issues I had from my childhood,I wanted to be liked and appreciated,and when it didn’t happen I began to self medicate, with alcohol ,but after a while I had to drink more to feel better, and my adopted family didn’t except me being a lesbian which made my issues worse. I over came those things and I learned to embrace my family and set boundaries. They came around and started to embrace me too. I learned it was ok to tell people how you truly feel and if they love you they won’t leave .

I overcame religious trauma by embracing spirituality for me it has been a much smoother way to face the challenges that came when I came out the closet and embraced my truth .I have also learned through meditation and positivity that everything we go through can be a little easier.

Watching single moms (including my own) navigate financial hardship while raising children was never easy, and experiencing it as a child wasn’t either. Now, as a mother myself, I’ve lived it more times than I can count. Relationship choices set me so far back that it’s taken everything just to return to “starting over.” Today, I’m rebuilding. I’m going through a divorce, raising children (some with disabilities), breathing through uncertainty, and working toward my degree. The bills still come. The anxiety didn’t disappear when the relationship ended; in some ways, it got louder. But I’m still here. Still showing up. And I know what it feels like to be unemployed, underemployed, a stay-at-home mom trying to find work and school, and carrying others through it. I've lived through crises as a child and as an adult. I can hold space for you as you walk through your.

In 2019, my dad suffered a heart attack (needed a quintuple heart bypass surgery) and the doctors found an Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm. I moved back in with my parents 10 hours away for 5 months to be a caregiver. The stress of his recovery, limitations, adjusting to new life and diet, and the unknown of whether the aneurysm would rupture was overwhelming and exhausting. We lived in fear for 3 months of whether or not he would be recovered and strong enough to have the surgery to fix the aneurysm. Every day we faced the challenges of if we would get another day. The doctors informed us that if the aneurysm ruptured, he would die within minutes. I slept on the couch for 5 months watching him recover and wait. The emotions that he felt and I felt were something that cannot be explained unless you have been there. Every day was a gift and a challenge. A 5 bypass surgery is very difficult to recover from. We had to learn to slow down, be vulnerable, push ourselves, and live a whole new life. We spent everyday learning new exercises that were exhausting and sometimes arguing to just try. I wanted him to do everything to get better, but he was tired. I was tired, too. All time stopped during those days. The only thing that was real was living in that living room next to him and just praying for another day. Our only outlets were doctors visits, tests, cardio rehab. Watching my dad unable be strong and unable to take care of himself was devastating and depressing. I hurt for him. I hurt for me. Every test was stressful. Every day we waited. The whole world stopped those 5 months. But we got through it. And he made it to the surgery. He recovered and he is well. I moved back to my house. I had no idea what a caregiver went through until I became one. The challenges of taking care of someone and living with them, giving up all of yourself and not knowing if they will make it another day is stressful on everyone, but the most important thing I could do for him and me.

Initially, I was very confused on caring for my autistic child as I didnt know much about autism and everything seemed very confusing as my child is high functioning. I have come to realize that there are many emotions and concerns on my child's part that are out of the scope of autism that need support. I have learned how important it is to assist them in managing these feelings I also cared for my mother during the last few miles of her life journey. She has since passed but I learned tools to use when navigating this difficult space emotionally.

Parenting kids while caring for an aging parent (or in-law) is a juggling act few talk about. It can be rich and meaningful, and also more than a little maddening. My mother-in-law, Elizabeth, lived with us for a decade while we were raising our 4 kids (2 with chronic illnesses) - with a new baby added in the middle of everything. Elizabeth and I both felt we were the “lady of the house,” and my husband tried to stay out of the battle - Once I even sent him to the store on Thanksgiving morning because SHE had reorganized the spice cabinet and hidden all the celery salt). There were moments of deep help (when the baby was born), love (she loved us all so much), and true connection - and also tension, exhaustion, and a constant push-pull of boundaries. Caring for elders while raising children stretches your patience, your space, and your sense of humor. I can walk with you through the balancing act - finding respect, boundaries, and grace when everyone’s needs collide.

Parenting a child with special needs changes everything. Your pace, your priorities, and often your sense of self. I know the exhaustion that comes with endless appointments, meltdowns, sleepless nights, and feeling like no one truly understands. I have walked that path, learning how to show up for my children while still trying to hold on to myself. Over time I realized that being a good parent does not mean being perfect. It means being present, adaptive, and kind to yourself too. Now I help other parents find their rhythm again. Balancing advocacy with rest, guilt with grace, and chaos with connection. Together we explore ways to support both your child’s growth and your own well-being.

Hi, I'm Cal, a musician, vocalist, teacher & creative originally from Johannesburg, South Africa, based in Chicago, USA. I am a deep feeler & empathic spirit, able to feel the emotions, energy & pain of others, often being called as a safe space to help people heal. In my life, that has been full of joy, creative expression & connection, I have also navigated some surprising & challenging experiences. I cared for my dad financially & emotionally on my own through his chronic illness for a large part of my adult life & navigated his death in my 30s. I have also navigated mold illness, being in and leaving abusive relationships, divorce, immigration, armed robbery among others. I also adore my deeply magical & radiant life! All of these experiences were portals & teachers that deepened my empathy, intuition & ability to hold sacred space for others as they own their emotions, trauma and stories as valid, powerful & the path to their greatest liberation, empowerment, joy and peace!