My Story
My early parenting journey was ROUGH.
I’d come home from the daily battle of school drop-off, collapse on the couch, cry, and think, "Is this it? Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?" Cue feelings of failure, dread, shame, guilt—you name it.
I was doing everything I was supposed to do—researching therapies, reading books, trying all the strategies. I believed that if I could just “fix” my son, I’d feel better and life could move forward.
But that's not how it works.
As a mom to a neurodivergent child, I’ve faced plenty of challenging behaviors. I know the emotional toll it can take.
It also didn’t help that before motherhood, I spent years trying to avoid or numb difficult feelings—through control, distraction, or shutting down. Those were the only tools I knew for handling hard emotions. While they provided short-term relief, I always felt worse in the long run. And when I felt worse? I went right back to numbing, avoiding, and controlling—trapped in a cycle that only deepened my stress.
What does this have to do with parenting?
Raising a neurodivergent child can bring a constant stream of big emotions—yours and theirs. The ways I had learned to cope weren't just ineffective; they were adding to my already maxed out stress levels. I began to wonder…what was I missing?
That curiosity led me deep into learning and understanding everything I could about emotions and well-being. I shifted my focus from trying to “fix” my son to learning how to “fix” myself—essentially learning how to feel more grounded, no matter what was happening around me.
As I built habits that supported my emotional health, life started to feel lighter. Stress and overwhelmed lessened. Routines became more manageable. And most importantly, I was able to respond to my son’s challenging behaviors in more thoughtful and effective ways, which in turn influenced his behavior. It was a win all around!
I had spent so much time trying to change external circumstances, hoping it would make things better. But the real transformation happened when I shifted my focus inward.
