Finding your way after a bipolar disorder diagnosis

Megan E.

I was studying psychology in college and dreamed of becoming a psychologist. But before I even graduated, I began experiencing delusions and deep emotional swings I couldn’t explain. I was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and everything shifted. My diagnosis made it feel like my career goals slipped out of reach, and I lost my footing. I turned to substances like weed, alcohol, psychedelics to cope. I found myself in a string of chaotic and toxic relationships, including one that turned physically abusive. I overstayed, not trusting myself to leave, until I finally reached a breaking point. Medication helped, but so did having people in my life who reminded me I was still worthy of love and healing. Meeting my now-husband helped me believe in my future again. I got sober in 2023, and even though I still live with bipolar disorder, it no longer defines what I can’t do, it helps me know exactly what I need to thrive. If you’re navigating life after diagnosis, I want you to know you’re not alone. There is a path forward, and it gets clearer with time and support.

Becoming a better parent through sobriety

Kari K.

From a young age, I knew I wanted to be a different kind of mother than the one I had. Growing up with a mother who had Borderline Personality Disorder, I saw firsthand how challenging and unpredictable relationships could be. My mother’s emotional instability and our difficult relationship shaped my belief that I could do better for my own children. I wanted to be loving, supportive, and stable—the kind of parent who could offer a safe and nurturing environment. But as life unfolded, I found myself in a 30-year marriage that was unhealthy and abusive. My coping mechanism became alcohol. I didn’t know how else to deal with the emotional weight of my situation, so I turned to drinking to numb the pain. I thought it was helping me survive, but it was only making things worse. My children became distant, and I lost the connection I had always hoped to build with them. In 2021, I made the difficult decision to get sober. But sobriety wasn’t just about quitting alcohol, it was about finally becoming the mother I had always wanted to be. It took time, but I worked hard to rebuild trust with my sons and heal from the emotional wounds I had carried for so long. Sobriety gave me the clarity and strength to reflect on my past and the impact my actions had on my family. With patience, self-compassion, and a commitment to change, I began to repair my relationship with my sons, and today, we have a much stronger and healthier bond.

Friendship: who's still standing after the freakshow

Kari K.

Divorce, recovery, business, grief - I've been through a lot of friend filters. I'll share what I learned about showing up, letting go, and building community that doesn't require costumes. Real friends don't flinch when the mascara runs.

Recovery rebuilding after I burned it all down

Kari K.

My recovery didn't start with a mountaintop moment. It started with shame, silence, and finally saying, "I can't do this alone." I'll share how I faced the fear of starting over, found community, and learned to laugh again - even when nothing felt funny. Recovery is messy and holy and real. Let's talk about it.

Breaking cycles of addiction (weed, coke, meth) for your children

Kellie D.

I grew up in a home where fear felt normal. My dad used meth to cope with his mental health struggles and the pain of losing his father, but it came out as anger. He lashed out at my mom constantly, and I was surrounded by yelling, chaos, and instability. I never felt safe. By the time I was a teen, I had turned to drugs myself—starting with marijuana at 13, then cocaine, and eventually meth by 1-It felt like the only way to numb everything I had absorbed growing up. At 23, I hit a breaking point and made the decision to leave hard drugs behind. A few years later, becoming a mom gave me a new purpose. I looked at my children and knew I had to give them something different. That meant healing, taking accountability, and learning how to parent with love instead of fear. I’ve worked hard to break those generational patterns, and I’m proud of the mom I’ve become. Now I support others who are trying to rewrite their family story because I know what it means to grow up in pain and still choose to build something better.

Getting sober after years of addiction

Stephen M.

I had my first drink at 10 years old and was binge drinking regularly as a teenager. By 18, I was drinking daily and using drugs. I stayed stuck in that cycle until I was 36. It took me over two years of serious effort to finally quit. I didn’t do it alone—I leaned into a 12-step program, therapy, and a lot of support from friends who had been there. Now, I’ve been sober for over 17 years. Helping others get sober has become a part of my life too. I’ve supported friends through relapses, connected people with local resources, and even watched someone go from crying in despair to four years clean and thriving. I know the shame, the cravings, the lies we tell ourselves, and I also know it’s possible to live differently. I’m a dad, a surfer, and someone who still works on my mental health daily. Recovery has given me a life I never thought I could have. I’m here to listen, share what worked for me, and walk alongside anyone who’s just starting out or struggling to hold on.

Breaking free from unhealthy coping mechanisms and building healthier habits

Cynthia E.

I grew up with a lot of instability. My dad was an alcoholic, and my mom worked a lot, which meant I had to become independent at a young age. My grandma was my main source of support, and when she passed away, I started turning to alcohol to cope with the grief and the pressure of managing everything on my own. I hadn’t realized how dependent I had become until one night, I found myself unable to sleep because I didn’t have alcohol. That’s when I knew something needed to change. I reached out to my friends for support, went to my doctor, and started attending support groups. I quit drinking, but it wasn’t easy. There were a lot of tough moments, and I had to face emotions I had been avoiding for a long time. Over time, I learned how to trust others and set boundaries, and I started to focus on healing emotionally from my past. Now, I work as a peer support specialist, helping others who are facing similar struggles. I want to be someone who listens and helps others break free from unhealthy habits and create a life that feels more balanced and healthy.

beginning your drug and alcohol recovery with your partner

Brandi S.

My struggles with drugs started when I was just a teenager. Over the years, I used a variety of substances, and despite my family’s efforts to help me—sending me to treatment programs—things got worse. When I became pregnant, something shifted in me, and I found the strength to get clean. I stayed sober for 20 years while raising my three kids, but after a few deeply painful events, I spiraled into depression. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and during that time, I relapsed hard—cocaine, meth, heroin—anything I could get. What changed everything was meeting the man who would become my husband. He was also struggling with addiction, and together, we decided to fight for our recovery. We leaned on each other, showed up for one another, and started rebuilding our lives. Today, we’re both clean, happily married, and I offer support to others who are walking through similar pain and hope.

Bipolar disorder let's talk it through

Brandi S.

You are not alone, and together we can find ways to live a full and meaningful life with bipolar disorder. I understand the highs and lows, the confusion and clarity that come with this journey. I'm here to offer a safe, non-judgmental space where you can share your experiences, ask questions, and look into ways to manage your symptoms. We can talk about what it was like to be diagnosed, how to build a routine that supports your well-being, how important it is to take care of yourself, and how to find hope at every step of your recovery.

Navigating sobriety as a parent, and dealing with loss and work stress

Stephen M.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

Chat with me overcoming self-doubt and imposter syndrome

Mike C.

I know what it’s like to second-guess everything—to feel like an imposter in rooms where everyone else seems more confident, more capable, more 'put together.' I’ve battled those thoughts in friendships, work, creative projects, and even in my own personal growth. No matter how much I accomplished, that little voice telling me I wasn’t enough kept creeping in. Over time, I’ve learned that imposter syndrome isn’t a sign that you aren’t capable—it’s often a reflection of deep self-awareness, high standards, and past experiences that made you doubt your worth. Working through it isn’t about silencing those thoughts completely; it’s about recognizing them, questioning them, and learning how to move forward anyway. Through peer support, I’ve helped others navigate these feelings—validating their fears while uncovering strategies to build confidence in who they are. You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone. You just have to see it for yourself.

Surviving narcissistic abuse as a late diagnosed autistic woman

Louise F.

For most of my life, I didn’t know I was autistic. Growing up in the '80s and '90s, I was constantly told I was “too sensitive,” “too intense,” or “too much,” but no one ever explained why I felt so different. I became obsessed with understanding why people didn’t like me and spent years trying to fit into relationships that didn’t fit me. My mother was a narcissist, and without realizing it, I normalized emotional abuse early on. That made me a prime target for narcissistic partners. When I met my ex-husband, he seemed perfect, he mirrored everything I wanted. But after we married, he changed completely. He became emotionally abusive, dismissive, and cruel. As a neurodivergent woman, I internalized the blame. I was constantly masking, people-pleasing, and second-guessing myself. When he broke into my home and strangled me during our separation, I finally saw the truth: it wasn’t me. Since then, I’ve been reclaiming my voice and learning how to live unmasked. I now understand how my undiagnosed autism played a role in how deeply I was impacted—and how long I stayed. If you’re also neurodivergent and trying to make sense of a toxic relationship, I’d love to talk. You are not broken. You were just never given the right tools or support, and you can get there.

Building confidence when you feel like an imposter

Sami C.

For much of my life, I struggled with imposter syndrome—feeling like I didn’t truly belong in spaces where I was achieving success. Despite my experience, accomplishments, and talents, I would often second-guess myself, thinking I wasn’t “enough” or that I was somehow faking my way through life. It wasn’t until I took a deeper look at my own fears and doubts that I realized how much of it was rooted in a deep sense of perfectionism and the unrealistic pressure I’d placed on myself to always be “the best.” Whether in the professional world, in relationships, or in my personal journey, I often found myself wondering if I was capable of truly owning my worth. Through years of self-reflection, counseling, and embracing the imperfection of growth, I’ve learned to identify the triggers of imposter syndrome and use them as stepping stones toward building authentic self-confidence. It wasn’t an overnight shift, but through acknowledging my doubts and learning to quiet them, I slowly started to embrace my true self without needing to be perfect. If you’ve ever felt like you were “faking it” or that you don’t deserve the success and opportunities in front of you, I’m here to help you break free from those self-limiting thoughts and walk alongside you in embracing the truth of who you really are.

Schizoæffection: overcoming paranoid hypervigilance and bipolar mood swings in togetherness

Tim G.

Born schizophrenic and bipolar in 1985, as a child I guided ghosts through unfinished business and peacefully mediated extraterrestrial disputes for interstellar healing. Why was I born this way? Only God knows for sure but I've learned to love with it! 🫶🏼 Schizoæffection is the process of melding broken worlds and renewing hope in the Eternal, connecting disparate ideas for better futures (also known as Schizoaffective Disorder;) 😻 I overcome Schizoaffective Disorder through deep listening, intentional peer support, Advanced Care Planning and eco-therapy. 🙏🏼 Let's turn madness into magic 🪄✨

using eco-therapy to reconnect with your true self

Tim G.

I grew up nestled between a National Wildlife Refuge and a National Park, where my earliest teachers were rivers, native plants, and the cycles of land and sea. Over the years, I’ve worked on organic farms, in a fishery, as a nature guide, and in youth education—each experience deepening my belief that nature doesn’t just teach us, it heals us. That path led me to become an ecopsychologist over 20 years ago, and later a neuroeconomist. I’ve always been fascinated by how natural systems shape our brains, our behavior, and our capacity to imagine better futures. For me, heliotropic idealism—orienting toward what brings light—has been a powerful tool for navigating pain, while phosphorescent mindfulness helps me stay connected to wonder when dreaming feels hard. I’ve learned that nature speaks through more than just sights and sounds; it speaks through our senses, instincts, and longings. I don’t have all the answers, but I know how to ask the right questions and how to listen with all of myself. I’d love to hold space for others who want to reconnect with the parts of themselves they may have forgotten—and remember their own “wordless voice of nature.”

overcoming imposter syndrome and finally owning your place in the room

Holley B.

Even after years healing and doing the work, I found myself constantly questioning: Do I belong here? Who am I to help others? What if they find out I’m not really “together”? That inner critic — fueled by years of trauma, addiction, and being silenced — whispered that I wasn’t enough, no matter how far I’d come. I could be speaking on a stage, supporting others, or stepping into something beautiful, and still feel like I was faking it. But I learned that imposter syndrome often shows up when we’re stepping into something real and meaningful. When we’re breaking generational cycles. When we’re becoming someone our past never prepared us for. And that’s not a sign we’re failing — it’s a sign we’re growing. Today, I still get nervous. But I remind myself: I’ve earned my seat at the table. My lived experience is powerful. And I am allowed to be both healing and helping at the same time. If you’ve been struggling to believe you’re “qualified” — in life, recovery, parenting, leadership, or healing — let’s talk. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to shrink to be safe.

Managing lifelong anxiety without self-medicating or prescription meds

Angelo F.

Since I can remember I’ve been very sensitive, energetic and full of excitement for life, especially as a child, where I can recall this transforming into crippling anxiety and panic, causing me to suffer endless panic attacks to the point that it was my reality and had no idea until age eighteen that I had panic attacks and general anxiety disorder, with agoraphobia stemming from ADHD, which I put together on my own in 2022. After many years of drinking after work to relax my nerves, then slowly weening myself off it completely in my mid-thirties, I became open to the idea of being on the spectrum of neurodivergence, which my therapist later told me she felt I was on, with my ADHD plus more traits she noticed. Having been validated and gaining more perspective on these findings, I was able to forgive myself and others for being so hard on me, or for being hard on myself all those years while feeling different. I now know that I am not defined by ADHD and I can now use this knowledge to serve me as I’ve hacked how my brain works and can achieve flow state easily now. It’s taken me many years of self-improvement, self-love, vulnerability and openness to become more whole and complete, feeling more comfortable in my own skin, which I’ve very proud of! I was able to overcome my addiction to drinking and smoking week years prior to putting it all together, so I can really be proud of myself for sticking with sobriety even while still learning why I was self-medicating and anxious all my life. Gaining that needed perspective and confidence has been the game changer and has helped me to attain years of lasting deep inner-peace and a knowing that everything will be ok no matter what! I’m happy to say I’ve harnessed and transmuted that excitement and passion for life I had a child back after a spiritual awakening in 2014, that’s been ongoing, with many challenges, but mostly wonderful new opportunities to grow and explore, which I’m more open too now, as I see life as fun game to experience and shape the way that I feel is working and I’ve learned to focus on goals, dreams and projects in alignment with who I am now!

Forgiveness healing for lasting recovery

Angelo F.

Forgiveness wasn’t easy for me. I carried so much pain—toward people who had hurt me, and maybe more than anyone, toward myself. For a long time, I couldn’t let go of the guilt, the shame, and the anger I had buried deep. I thought that if I forgave, I’d be letting others off the hook… or denying the damage that had been done. But when I began my recovery journey, I realized that forgiveness wasn’t about them. It was about me. It was about setting myself free from the weight of the past so I could heal and move forward. Through forgiveness therapy, self-reflection, and deep inner work, I learned how to release old emotional burdens. I forgave my past self for coping the only way I knew how at the time. I forgave others for not showing up the way I needed. And with that, something beautiful happened: I created space for peace, joy, and self-love to take root. Forgiveness became one of the most transformational parts of my recovery. It helped me break free from the cycle of resentment, shame, and emotional pain.

Boundaries, balance, and belonging

Anjelika marin A.

Some days you're handling responsibilities like a pro, and other days you're crying into a burrito wondering if everyone else got the secret handbook for adulthood. (Spoiler: they didn’t.) Whether you're navigating school, work, hormones that forgot how to chill, or trying to set boundaries without sounding like a villain, I’ve been there. I’ve felt the weight of imposter syndrome whispering, “You’re not enough,” even while doing the absolute most. I’ve worked jobs where boundaries were more like suggestions and gone through life transitions that made me question everything including my ability to keep a houseplant alive. Through all of that, I learned something important: healing isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about having a safe space to be real. This a no-judgment, come-as-you-are kind of space where you can talk about the hard stuff, the awkward stuff, the “is it just me?” stuff and realize it’s definitely not just you. Let’s talk for real and probably laugh a little.

Living fully with vasculitis or other rare illnesses

Andrew D.

I’ve lived with a rare form of vasculitis for the past six years, and it’s impacted nearly every part of my life—my body, my career, my role as a parent, and even my sense of identity. The hardest part hasn’t just been the symptoms or treatments—it’s the loneliness. For a long time, it felt like no one could truly understand what I was going through. I had to pause and reimagine what “normal” looked like for me. I went from trying to push through everything to learning how to slow down and take care of myself, not just physically but emotionally. Along the way, I’ve become more grounded and more grateful. I’ve shared my journey with friends and family who are just beginning their own diagnoses, and it's reminded me how powerful connection can be. I’m a better partner and father because of what I’ve lived through. I’m still managing my condition every day—but I’m also thriving, and I’d love to help someone else feel a little less alone on their path.

Being married to a sex addict

S.J. D.

I was married to someone who lived with sex addiction, and for a long time I didn’t fully understand what was happening. I just knew something was very wrong—there were secrets, shame, and a deep erosion of trust. At first, I blamed myself. I thought if I just looked a certain way, acted a certain way, needed less, maybe things would get better. But they didn’t. Eventually, I found my way into the 12-step community, got a therapist who didn’t flinch when I told her the truth, and slowly started reclaiming my sense of self. Divorce wasn’t easy, but staying was harder. I did the gut-wrenching work of healing—through yoga, meditation, therapy, and a whole lot of tears. Today, I’m happily married to someone who values honesty and intimacy in the realest sense. If you're in a relationship where trust has been broken by addiction, I’d be honored to hold space for your experience.

Being in a relationship with a sex addict

S.J. D.

I met my first husband my 2nd year of college. He told me almost immediately that he was recovering from alcoholism and drug addiction. Coming from a childhood full of alcohol abuse, the recovery comforted me. Not long after, he told me he was still trying to recover from sex addiction. I was so young and innocent--and so desperate to be loved--that I decided to stay by his side and eventually marry him. During our 3 year marriage, he stole from our bank account and sold our belongings to pay for prostitutes. He lied to me about his activity and exposed me to STDs. He shut down physically and emotionally, not speaking to me or touching me for weeks at a time. I found my way to a recovery group for people impacted by someone else's sex addiction and eventually found the strength to leave. I had to learn to love and value myself. That was over 20 years ago. I can hardly believe how far I've come. I am happily married today and I don't have any lingering trauma around sex.

Parenting neurodivergent kids

Abby G.

I am the parent of two kiddos who experience the world deeply and fully in what feels like every moment. There are sensory challenges, misunderstandings, stimming, and hyperfixations that we navigate together all of the time. We are aiming to raise our kids with intentionality so they understand themselves and their needs while not making them feel like anything is "wrong" with them, the tricky balance of it all. They are extraordinary in a world not really built for how they experience things, so we work together on how to move through the world so they feel safe and supported.

Shifting your self-identity to break free from pornography addiction

Ben E.

Addiction can feel like a part of you that’s impossible to shake. For years, I turned to pornography to cope with deeper insecurities. It started as a way to escape, but it soon became a prison. I realized that to truly break free, I had to stop seeing myself as someone who “needed” the addiction. The turning point came when I reached out to my parents and my bishop, and I took the bold step to join a recovery group. With the help of a therapist, I started to rebuild my life. I learned that true freedom comes not just from breaking the habit but from changing the way you view yourself. I had to believe that I was worthy of love, success, and freedom without relying on the addiction. This shift in self-identity was the key to my recovery, and I’ve helped others do the same. By coaching people through this process, I guide them to understand that their identity isn’t defined by their addiction, and that they have the power to create a new, healthier narrative about who they are.

Midlife identity theft by my own hormones

Kari K.

Midlife isn't a crisis - it's a costume change. One day you're PTA president, the next you're questioning everything from your coffee order to your calling. I'll talk about how I found clarity in the chaos, let go of roles that didn't fit, and learned to wear my *quirky* on purpose.

Organ transplant surgery

Sarah C.

For five years—ages 18 to 23—I managed congestive heart failure. Medications, specialist appointments, lifestyle changes, exploring every option available. I told myself I would be alright, but deep down, I knew things were getting worse. My body was exhausted. I felt hopeless while struggling through the daily realities of heart failure. The idea of needing an organ transplant felt overwhelming—too big, too final, too terrifying to face. So I kept searching. I hoped things might improve with stem cell therapy. I was scared. What if the surgery failed? What if I didn’t find a donor in time? What would recovery even look like? I worried about the toll on my family, the financial weight, and the uncertainty of life after transplant. But slowly, I came to understand that waiting was its own risk. Staying in survival mode wasn’t truly living. And when things got worse, I had to be brave. I listened to the doctors. I pushed through the discomfort, the fear, the unknowns. The journey hasn’t been easy. There were setbacks, sleepless nights, and moments of deep uncertainty. But there was also clarity, connection, and incredible support. I learned to advocate for myself, to lean on others, and—slowly—to trust my body again. I found strength I didn’t know I had. And when the day finally came—the surgery, the healing, the second chance—I was terrified… but I was ready. Now, I’ve rebuilt life with new energy, deeper perspective, and lasting gratitude. If you’re facing the possibility of a transplant—or navigating the emotional weight of that decision—you are not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about your journey and what healing could look like for you.

Moving forward after a major health or hormonal shift

Sami C.

A few years ago, I went through a significant health shift that left me feeling physically exhausted, mentally drained, and emotionally overwhelmed. Between managing my health, hormonal imbalances, and the challenges that came with it, I found myself questioning what I was capable of and how to move forward. I had to find new ways of living, eating, exercising, and even thinking about myself in a way that prioritized my body’s needs and took into account my mental and emotional well-being. This transition was especially challenging as I navigated post-surgical recovery and the emotional impacts of major physical changes. But it also became an opportunity to deeply understand my body, learn how to care for it in a more balanced way, and discover new practices to restore my energy, vitality, and sense of self. Whether it’s a major health diagnosis, a hormonal shift like menopause, or any other physical change that’s throwing you off balance, I know how frustrating it can be to feel like you’re no longer in control of your own body. I’ve walked through this journey of reclaiming my energy, health, and mindset—and I’d love to help guide you through this new chapter, empowering you to trust your body, embrace the change, and move forward with a renewed sense of strength and confidence.

Rebuilding your life after a traumatic injury

Matt M.

In 2005, when I was 26, I was thrown from a motorcycle at 50 miles per hour. I broke my back and was told I might never walk again. The physical pain was intense, but the emotional toll ran even deeper—learning to walk again was just one part of the journey. I dealt with PTSD, depression, anxiety, and the kind of shame that creeps in when your body doesn’t feel like your own anymore. I still live with partial paralysis and nerve damage, and that brings daily challenges most people don’t see. It wasn’t easy navigating all of that alone, especially as I tried to hold on to relationships and make peace with the new version of myself. I know what it feels like to be embarrassed, to feel broken, and to not recognize your life anymore. But I also know what it feels like to come out the other side—still healing, still laughing, and finally proud of who I’ve become. I’ve had the honor of helping others find their way through their own hardships, sometimes just by listening, sometimes by sharing my own scars. If you're in the thick of it, I’m here. And if we can laugh even once together, that’s a win.

Rediscovering purpose and identity in midlife

Alex H.

My midlife moment didn’t arrive all at once. The first jolt came when I had a heart attack at 39 — a wake-up call that forced me to confront mortality earlier than I expected. But in some ways, the more jarring shift happened almost a decade later, when I began aging in a way I couldn’t ignore. I had looked 35 until nearly 50, and then—seemingly overnight—I started seeing someone different in the mirror. It wasn’t just about appearance; it was about identity. I felt like I was grieving the version of myself I had been for so long: the youthful guy whose age always surprised people. Suddenly, I wasn’t him anymore. At the same time, I was recommitting to my passion for acting after over a decade in a corporate career. But that brought its own challenges. I worried I was now past the age for the roles I once longed to play. The dream hadn’t died — but the terms had changed. I found myself reckoning with feelings of failure, burnout, and the question of whether I had anything meaningful to show for all the years I’d been chasing this path. The journey since then hasn’t been linear. But now in my 50's with time, reflection, and some truly fulfilling projects under my belt, I’ve begun to make peace with what midlife means for me. I still have goals, but I no longer define success by rigid milestones or external validation. I’ve discovered the beauty of aging into new kinds of roles — on stage, in life, and in community. I’ve also come to see purpose not as a destination, but as a way of being: evolving, internal, and intimately mine. That shift has made space for acceptance, clarity, and even joy in the person I’m becoming.

Trauma

Vanessa S.

After losing a close friend to suicide, my world cracked open. Then, not long after, I was involved in a fatal accident that changed everything. The trauma didn’t just affect me emotionally, it took over my entire life. I couldn’t leave my room. I couldn’t show up as a mom. I felt like a shell of who I used to be. I was lost, empty, and broken. Eventually, the pain started showing up in ways I didn’t expect. I began hearing and seeing things that weren’t real. My body and mind were screaming for help, but nothing I tried seemed to work. Therapy felt like talking into a void. Medications numbed me. I started to believe I’d never be okay again. And then, something shifted. I started opening up to people who got it. Peers. Survivors. People who weren’t trying to fix me but just to listen. Slowly, day by day, I started feeling human again. Not “healed.” Not “cured.” Just heard. And that saved me. I was diagnosed with C-PTSD. I’m not the person I was before trauma, and I never will be. But this version of me sees the world differently, and with more compassion than ever before.

Boundaries, balance, and belonging

Anjelika marin A.

Some days you're handling responsibilities like a pro, and other days you're crying into a burrito wondering if everyone else got the secret handbook for adulthood. (Spoiler: they didn’t.) Whether you're navigating school, work, hormones that forgot how to chill, or trying to set boundaries without sounding like a villain, I’ve been there. I’ve felt the weight of imposter syndrome whispering, “You’re not enough,” even while doing the absolute most. I’ve worked jobs where boundaries were more like suggestions and gone through life transitions that made me question everything including my ability to keep a houseplant alive. Through all of that, I learned something important: healing isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about having a safe space to be real. This a no-judgment, come-as-you-are kind of space where you can talk about the hard stuff, the awkward stuff, the “is it just me?” stuff and realize it’s definitely not just you. Let’s talk for real and probably laugh a little.

Relapsing back into alcohol use after physical trauma

Lenny D.

I was a daily drinker for 34 years, and while I eventually found my way into the 12-step program, it took seven years to complete—four of those spent working through Step 4. Just as I was starting to rebuild, I slipped on black ice and severely injured my arm. It was paralyzed for 18 months. The physical pain, the loss of function, the emotional isolation—it all built up until I relapsed. I lost my housing and found myself starting over again, from rock bottom. But I didn’t give up. I entered a state program, got the help I needed, and slowly rebuilt. Since then, I’ve managed a recovery house during the pandemic, sponsored others, and spoken publicly about addiction and recovery. Now, I’m approaching five years sober and still go to meetings regularly. I know how complicated recovery can be when your body is broken and your spirit feels close behind. If you’re in that place—trying to stay sober through physical pain or after a relapse—I’m here to talk.

Gaining strength after addiction, trauma, and starting over

Ashley R.

My journey through addiction and recovery has been full of challenges, growth, and transformation. I served in the military, where an injury led to being placed on prescription fentanyl for pain management. Over time, that dependence turned into a full-blown addiction. After leaving the military, I struggled to access prescriptions and eventually turned to street drugs. A DUI arrest became my wake-up call. I entered inpatient treatment for 90 days, followed by intensive outpatient therapy, and have been clean ever since. At one point, I also battled severe alcohol dependence that landed me in the ICU for detox. Now, after over 5 years of sobriety, I'm a proud mom of two, married for over 15 years, and passionate about supporting others in recovery. I attend 12-step meetings regularly, sponsor young women, and believe deeply in the power of therapy and connection. I'm here to share my story and help you find hope and strength in your own journey.

Grieving a loss through miscarriage or still birth

Susan K.

I know the pain of loosing a child through miscarriage of still birth. It is a loss that no one but you can fully experience. When my body experienced the trauma and hormonal rollercoaster of losing my child, I was surrounded by caring people who loved me. But, really did not know what to say or do. I had no one in my life at the time who experienced the emotional, and physical upheaval the the loss of an expectant child can put you through. This was almost three decades ago, but I still I still feel the loss. I was the mother (and in someway will always be the mother)

Exploring philosophical approaches to self-growth and embracing imperfection

Mike C.

Can't tell you how often I chased a broken idea of self-improvement—becoming "better," eliminating flaws, and constantly striving for an ideal version of myself that felt out of reach. The more I pushed toward that impossible standard, the more disconnected I felt. But growth isn’t about perfection—it’s about exploration. We evolve not by erasing the parts of us we struggle with, but by understanding them, accepting them, and finding authentic ways to move forward. Philosophy has played a huge role in reshaping how I approach self-development, helping me see life less as a rigid path. It can be hard to navigate the tension between self-acceptance and wanting to grow—breaking free from unrealistic expectations and exploring self-reflection in a way that actually feels fulfilling. If you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt or felt like you’re "not enough," let’s take a step back. It doesn’t have to be about fixing—it can be about understanding and embracing the complexity of who you are.

Survivorship from childhood and adolescent human trafficking.

Kelly S.

When I was a little girl at about the age of four years old in 1982, I was kidnapped by local outlaws, that included members of the occult, gang and club members, the mob, and school district staff, and drug up into a child human labor and sex trafficking ring against my will. I have been an eyewitness to true horror, crime, and war since that time, with government, police, and military officials even becoming involved. I have seen the unimaginable. Flashing back, I believe that I was a child POW, and have memories of spending time on military bases without my family's knowledge. I was also being flown across state lines and overseas, all trips that I was being forced to make that violated my personal civil rights, liberties, and freedoms. I used to be so full of fear that I didn't know how to communicate with anyone about what was happening to me with local community members, who also had children that were classmates of mine or my siblings. I found hope and purpose in the pain.

Your self-growth journey (self-love/worth, positive self-imagery, goal setting/achievement)

Daneeta S.

My passions for positive self-imagery and a healthy self-love were birthed out of my own struggles with low self-esteem, a lack of self-worth and a poor self-imagery. It took years for me to find my identity and purpose, and has made me empathetic to those who experience the same. I believe I am meant to help others through such struggles, as well as other things related to such struggles, such as personal goals, relational boundaries, and goal setting (including feeling capable and worthy of achieving those goals). Along with a passion for helping others, I also have a knack for efficiency and a commitment to excellence. For that reason, I obtained my life coaching certification in 2011, with concentrations in life, relationships, wellness and bereavement. With my combination of experience, passion and training, I am here to support you the best way I can.

Establishing and upholding your boundaries

Daneeta S.

I have both personal and professional experience with establishing boundaries. Personally, I have learned the difference between boundaries, desires and demands, and the benefits of establishing and upholding my personal boundaries. As a life coach I have been granted the opportunity to help others to recognize the same. I find boundaries to be important to well-being, and gaining a true understanding of what boundaries are, as well as what they are not, as crucial to the process. You are your own person, therefore your boundaries should be your own, for you, and contribute to your personal growth and wellness. I would love to help you in cultivating your own beneficial boundaries.

Co-parenting with a narcissistic ex

Victoria D.

Co-parenting hasn’t been easy for me—I’ve had to navigate it with someone who constantly put his own needs above our child’s. For over a year, I documented everything—photos, messages, patterns of behavior—because I knew I’d need evidence to protect my child. I eventually went to court and was able to gain custody. It was exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes felt like a never-ending game I didn’t want to play. But I stayed focused on what mattered: my child’s well-being. I’ve learned how to set strong boundaries, communicate only when necessary, and not let his manipulation get under my skin. I had to shift from reacting emotionally to responding with intention—and that took time. Now, I use what I’ve been through to help others who are in the thick of it. I get what it’s like to feel powerless and unheard, and I know the emotional toll it can take. But I also know it’s possible to regain control, protect your peace, and create a safe and stable environment for your kids.

Breaking free from codependency and people-pleasing in relationships

Nicole B.

I used to find myself in relationships where I would constantly prioritize others’ needs over my own, always trying to make sure everyone around me was happy, even at the cost of my own well-being. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was caught in a cycle of codependency and people-pleasing. It wasn’t until I started recognizing the unhealthy patterns in my relationships that I began to see how much they were holding me back. This realization came slowly. I started working on myself, breaking free from toxic environments and relationships, and focusing on the life I wanted to build. I found that understanding my own attachment style and learning about healthy boundaries helped me stop falling into those old patterns. I became aware of what was destructive—both in my romantic and platonic relationships—and made healthier choices for myself and those around me. I’ve experienced these challenges firsthand and, through a lot of hard work and self-discovery, I’ve learned how to create and maintain stronger, healthier relationships. I’m now in a place where I don’t rely on unhealthy attachments or behaviors to define my relationships. I can see myself and others more clearly, and I want to help anyone who is struggling with the same issues.

setting healthy boundaries in recovery — and learning to honor your own needs

Holley B.

Before recovery, I didn’t even know what boundaries were — let alone how to set them. I thought love meant overextending. I thought forgiveness meant tolerating abuse. And I thought saying “no” would mean I’d be rejected, abandoned, or seen as selfish. In early sobriety, I realized that my lack of boundaries was keeping me stuck in cycles of guilt, burnout, and trauma. I had to learn — often the hard way — that healing requires protection. That peace doesn’t just come from quitting substances or leaving toxic relationships. It comes from learning how to say: This is okay. This is not. Boundaries helped me rebuild my identity. They gave me space to grieve, to grow, and to finally feel safe — in my own skin, and in my relationships. And while it’s still a practice, not perfection, I no longer feel guilty for protecting my healing. If you’re learning how to set boundaries in your recovery journey — with family, friends, work, or even yourself — I would be honored to walk beside you as you practice saying yes to yourself.

Navigating single parenting and going through life’s messes

Katy W.

I became a mom at 25, and soon after, I found myself juggling the complexities of single motherhood. My son was diagnosed with autism, and my ex-husband’s alcoholism created an even more unpredictable and chaotic environment. Going back to school for my master’s degree at 31 while raising my son wasn’t easy—especially since I was living on public assistance during that time. But, despite the challenges, I made it through. I learned how to manage my emotions, not expect perfection from myself, and embrace the mess that comes with being a single parent. There were times I wanted to scream in frustration, but I learned to let go of some societal expectations about what "perfect" parenting looks like. My experiences with co-parenting, financial instability, and trying to create a stable home for my son have given me a deep well of empathy for anyone trying to do their best under tough circumstances. Now, as a therapist, I know how powerful it is to simply show up and be real with someone, rather than offering advice that doesn’t land. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about showing up, messy and all.

Building resilience by reshaping how you approach relationships

Mara Y.

After 23 years of infidelity, narcissism, and betrayal in my marriage, I realized I needed to completely change how I approached relationships, not just with others, but with myself. My past had shaped the way I viewed and engaged in love and connection, often leading me into toxic cycles. It became clear that I had to shift my mindset and approach to relationships, starting with myself. This journey involved challenging old patterns and learning healthier ways to connect, communicate, and set boundaries. Therapy, yoga, and meditation were all vital in helping me reconnect with who I truly am, allowing me to approach relationships from a place of respect and self-love. I’ve learned that building resilience means embracing change and creating space for healthier dynamics, both within myself and with others. Now, I want to help others who feel stuck in unhealthy patterns find the strength to create the fulfilling, respectful relationships they deserve.

Using creativity as a catalyst for change with art therapy and nature-based activities

Angelo F.

During my healing journey, there were moments when words just weren’t enough. I needed something deeper—something that could express what I couldn’t say, process what I couldn’t name, and bring beauty into the parts of me that still felt broken. That’s when creativity became my medicine. Through therapeutic art and connecting with nature, I found a way to transform pain into purpose. Singing, drawing, cooking healthy meals, writing, walking in nature—all of it became a sacred release, a return to my authentic self. I discovered that you don’t need to be an artist to heal through creativity—you just need to be willing to express yourself in new ways, even if you are an artist. These practices continue to support my emotional wellbeing, reduce anxiety, and help me stay grounded. I now guide others to reconnect with their inner child, tap into their intuitive voice, and use creativity as a bridge to deep transformation.

about unexpected job loss

Jessica B.

I had worked with the same company for 25 years. The Owner decided to retire and close the company. Suddenly, I realized my future where I thought I would continue working until retiring was closing the doors. I had been with this company since I was in my 20s. What am I going to do? How can I restart? I have no idea. Anxiety and stress consumed me. All day I only thought about the "what's next" and "starting over". It had been years since I went to school or learned anything knew. The world was more advanced than I was and how could I catch up? I was not sleeping. I was having physical symptoms from the stress. I had been the breadwinner of my family, how can I let them down? The guilt of not continuing to promote myself through the years and the fact that I had put all my eggs in one basket was heavy. It was a heavy burden to carry around and carrying it alone wanted to make me give up. How can I reinvent myself? What if no company wants me? Financially, I was watching the money in the accounts get smaller and smaller. I didn't just want a paycheck, but a career. Ever step forward, felt like a step back. I had a good career, high up in the company and now to start over is scary, isolating, insignificant, ashamed.

Job reskilling from school bus boss to biz maven

Kari K.

I've reinvented myself more times than Madonna. From school buses to spreadsheets to storytelling, I've had to pick up new skills midlife and mid-mess. I'll talk about how I found courage, made weird work for me, and stayed teachable - even when I wanted to hide under the bed.

Reinventing your career when you're stuck in the unknown

Andrea B.

I’ve changed careers multiple times across very different industries. Each shift started with the same feeling: stuck, uncertain, and unsure what the next step should be. I have left jobs without a clear plan, faced the silence after being forced to resign, and sat with the fear that I might never find something that felt right. The path was never linear. It involved a lot of false starts, doubt, and days when clarity felt completely out of reach. But through trial, reflection, and learning to listen to what I actually needed, I began to build a different way forward. I used tools like mindset work, personal awareness, and small experiments to create movement. Reinvention didn’t come from figuring everything out. It came from being willing to start where I was and take the next step anyway. Now, I support others who are facing the same stuckness and helping them find traction in the unknown.

Healing from toxic relationships

Addison W.

I'm a trans man in my late 20s who's been shaped by both hardship and healing. During a particularly difficult time in my life, I found myself in an environment that tested my boundaries and challenged my mental health. It took time — and the support of people who cared about me — to recognize what I was experiencing and begin the process of reclaiming my peace. Along the way, I’ve worked through PTSD and anxiety, explored different forms of healing, and learned how to stay grounded in the face of emotional intensity. I've supported others in the LGBTQ+ community, held space for friends facing tough relationship dynamics, and developed a strong sense of when and how to set healthy boundaries. I bring a calm, empathetic presence to every conversation. If you're feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, or caught in something hard to name — I'm here. You don’t have to navigate it alone.

Survivorship from childhood and adolescent human trafficking.

Kelly S.

When I was a little girl at about the age of four years old in 1982, I was kidnapped by local outlaws, that included members of the occult, gang and club members, the mob, and school district staff, and drug up into a child human labor and sex trafficking ring against my will. I have been an eyewitness to true horror, crime, and war since that time, with government, police, and military officials even becoming involved. I have seen the unimaginable. Flashing back, I believe that I was a child POW, and have memories of spending time on military bases without my family's knowledge. I was also being flown across state lines and overseas, all trips that I was being forced to make that violated my personal civil rights, liberties, and freedoms. I used to be so full of fear that I didn't know how to communicate with anyone about what was happening to me with local community members, who also had children that were classmates of mine or my siblings. I found hope and purpose in the pain.

life in the in-between

Ritika D.

There was a time in my life when everything felt paused. I was between jobs, unsure of my next step, watching others move forward while I sat still. People would say, “Something will come along,” but the waiting felt like slow erosion. My self-worth was tied to progress, and without it, I felt small. I learned how to sit with the discomfort, how to extract meaning from stillness, and how to build a life that didn’t depend on a clear next chapter. I began to ask myself deeper questions about purpose, identity, and what truly mattered.

being between jobs and still believing you matter

Ritika D.

My Story: There were long stretches when I didn’t have a job. The silence from applications was deafening. I felt like I was falling behind, especially when friends were getting promotions or buying homes. I tied my worth to my output—and when there was no output, I felt invisible. Eventually, I started asking myself: Who am I without the title? It was painful but liberating. I started separating my identity from productivity. Now, I hold space for others walking through that same fog.

Starting over and reskilling at any age

Alex H.

I’ve spent much of my adult life in pursuit of a creative career — primarily as an actor — but that journey has often required side paths, pivots, and full-on reinventions to make ends meet or rediscover momentum. Along the way, I’ve tried everything from retail and logistics to graphic design, real estate, web development, and even full-time programming after completing a coding bootcamp. Some of these paths stuck longer than others. Some didn’t go the distance. But each one taught me something about resourcefulness, resilience, and what it means to choose a life on your own terms. At the heart of each shift was the desire to support myself in ways that felt aligned — to earn a living without selling out the core of who I was. That wasn’t always easy. Learning new skills as an adult — especially under financial pressure — takes grit. And while I often carry a deep belief in my ability to learn and adapt, that doesn’t mean the fear of making a wrong move wasn’t real. What’s helped me most is learning to tune into my gut: regularly checking in and asking if where I’m headed still feels like home to me. I’ve come to see that the only real mistake is staying stuck in something that no longer reflects who you are, just because it once did. Perhaps the biggest lesson has come from my forays into real estate investing and entrepreneurship — ventures that reshaped how I relate to money, risk, and possibility. They helped me shed a scarcity mindset and embrace one of potential. I’ve learned not to regret the things that didn’t pan out. Every attempt taught me how to pivot with love instead of fear. And even when circumstances forced my hand, like when a lucrative startup job collapsed beneath me, I found ways to turn disruption into opportunity. Whether or not I always “succeed” in the way I imagined, I’m proud to keep choosing a life that reflects who I am. That’s the kind of success I now measure by.

breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

making a career change

Sunny H.

My first job out of college was something I took to stay local. My boyfriend (now husband of 30 years) still had a year left of school so I just needed to start getting some experience and pay the bills. A random call center job started a 25 year career as a call center representative, trainer, supervisor, manager and director. At my peak, I was leading 200 reps and 10 managers in 3 locations. Then I met my match. During a restructure, the HR Director (and personal friend of the owner) decided she wanted to try out Operations. It was a disaster. I'd worked for many wonderful and terrible bosses over the years. She was unbearable. After a year of trying to find a way to succeed on her team, I met with HR to ask for a transfer. The next morning, I got it ... a transfer right out of the company. After 13 years, 7 of them on the Senior Leadership Team, I was handed a severance package that included a confidentiality agreement and a year's salary. I was shocked. I had never even had any corrective action beyond some coaching and feedback and I was fired ??? OK ... how to start over ? With the freedom of time the severance check provided, I did a couple things. I took a week to mourn, I took 2 weeks to do all the things on my TO DO lists (clean out the garage, replant some landscaping, etc ...), I took 1 week to do fun local things I never do (parks, museums, library), and then I spent a week deciding what I wanted to do for my next career chapter. That's where this story gets good ...

Compassion fatigue my empathy got evicted

Kari K.

Helping people is... holy. But holy moly, sometimes you hit the wall. I'll share how I recognized my own compassion fatigue, why burnout looks different for caregivers, and what I do now to keep my heart soft without letting it leak all over the carpet.

being a caregiver to a family member

Jessica B.

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.

beginning your drug and alcohol recovery with your partner

Brandi S.

My struggles with drugs started when I was just a teenager. Over the years, I used a variety of substances, and despite my family’s efforts to help me—sending me to treatment programs—things got worse. When I became pregnant, something shifted in me, and I found the strength to get clean. I stayed sober for 20 years while raising my three kids, but after a few deeply painful events, I spiraled into depression. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and during that time, I relapsed hard—cocaine, meth, heroin—anything I could get. What changed everything was meeting the man who would become my husband. He was also struggling with addiction, and together, we decided to fight for our recovery. We leaned on each other, showed up for one another, and started rebuilding our lives. Today, we’re both clean, happily married, and I offer support to others who are walking through similar pain and hope.

Healing after a toxic relationship

Sarah C.

I was in a toxic relationship for 14 long years where poor communication and emotional abuse became a daily struggle. I often found myself trapped in codependence, unable to see the damage until it was almost too late. Gradually, I learned that I deserved better and began the hard work of reclaiming my self-worth. Therapy, group meetings, and self-help books opened my eyes to a life beyond constant hurt. I made the brave decision to move across the country, leaving behind the patterns that held me captive. Each step forward was a mix of pain and growth, and the scars of manipulation took time to heal. At the same time, I navigated other major life challenges, including being an organ transplant recipient and caring for my aging parents. Today, I share my journey to help others find the strength to break free from toxic cycles. I want to offer practical advice, empathy, and a reminder that healing is possible.

Bipolar disorder let's talk it through

Brandi S.

You are not alone, and together we can find ways to live a full and meaningful life with bipolar disorder. I understand the highs and lows, the confusion and clarity that come with this journey. I'm here to offer a safe, non-judgmental space where you can share your experiences, ask questions, and look into ways to manage your symptoms. We can talk about what it was like to be diagnosed, how to build a routine that supports your well-being, how important it is to take care of yourself, and how to find hope at every step of your recovery.

living with a husband who has chronic illness for a season

Celeste G.

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.

Parenting through adversity and raising neurodivergent kids

Jalissa C.

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.

losing a parent

Sunny H.

My dad was a wonderful father and grandfather, but not a wonderful husband. When he got sick, I struggled with helping to care for him while watching him be unkind and ungrateful to my mom. Old resentments and years of sacrifice turned my loving mom bitter and angry. They had a picture perfect 54 year marriage and these challenges were bringing out the worst in both of them. My mom was leaning on me in ways that were not necessarily healthy and told me things she'd never shared. I worked hard to treat my dad with the love he'd always shown me and set boundaries on how he could treat my mom, at least in my presence. I reminded myself how vulnerable and scared he was and his actions were his inability to manage those emotions. I let my mom say anything she needed to because she needed it to be OK to be hurt and angry. I didn't let anyone, even my dad, change how I've felt about him for all 50 years of my life. These last moments were not going to be his legacy. I really believe his illness was affecting his brain. He just wasn't the same man so holding him accountable was not necessary. I kept the peace in the family so his passing would not break the rest of us apart.

Complicated parent-child relationships

Sandy P.

I’ve lived a full life—with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. As a former marriage and family therapist, a caregiver for my father during his final years, and someone who has fought my own battles with addiction and recovery, I understand deeply what it feels like to be in hard places. I've lived alone for over 20 years now, still drive across the country with my pets, and stay active through volunteer work, including peer counseling at my local senior center. I know what it's like to feel the pull of addiction even after years of sobriety, to care for a parent who both needs you and resents you, and to live with the grief of fractured family relationships. If you are caring for aging parents, struggling with recovery, dealing with complicated family dynamics, or just needing someone who "gets it" to talk to, I'm here. My style is straightforward but kind—I believe facing things honestly is the first step toward healing.

Overcoming work and family burnout and finding balance

Blessed D.

I was juggling everything: my career, my family, my responsibilities as a wife and mom, and it felt like I had it all, but internally, I was burning out. My work was demanding and stressful, and at home, I was constantly trying to be everything to everyone, especially to my two boys, one of whom has special needs. I found myself drained, emotionally and physically, and didn't know how to keep up. To cope with the overwhelming exhaustion and frustration, I began drinking more often. It became a way to numb the stress. I didn’t even recognize how deeply I was struggling until my father’s battle with dementia added even more emotional weight. That was my breaking point. I knew I had to make a change or I’d lose myself entirely. I decided to quit drinking and started working on my mental and physical health. Through hypnotherapy, mindful movement, and a diet that supported my energy levels, I began to regain control. While the burnout isn’t gone, I now have healthier coping mechanisms, and I’ve learned to balance my life in a way that honors my well-being without neglecting my family and career. Sharing my story has been a way for me to heal and let others know that it's okay to ask for help and to take time for themselves.

Surviving the loss of a stillborn baby

Adley H.

Losing my firstborn son to stillbirth was the most devastating experience of my life. It shattered everything I thought I knew about grief, motherhood, and myself. There’s no way to prepare for the silence where a heartbeat should be, or the way time seems to stop while the world keeps moving forward without your child in it. In the aftermath, I was overwhelmed by a grief that felt impossible to carry. People often don’t know what to say, and sometimes say nothing at all—leaving you to navigate a heartbreak that few truly understand. I know the pain of baby showers, birthdays, and milestones that never come. I know the isolation, the guilt, the anger, and the desperate need for someone who just gets it. Over time, and with a lot of emotional work, I’ve learned to live alongside the loss. I still carry it—but I also carry love, memory, and meaning. I’m here to hold space for you in your grief, whether you’re deep in the early days or years into processing the ache that never fully goes away.

the grief of parental alienation and how to keep going when your child feels out of reach

Holley B.

There is no grief like watching your child be turned against you — while you’re still alive, still loving them, still fighting to be in their life. Parental alienation is a form of emotional abuse, and it leaves deep scars — not just on the targeted parent, but on the child who is caught in the middle. I never imagined I’d experience the pain of being erased, rejected, or falsely portrayed — especially after surviving so much and just wanting to give my child the love and safety they deserved. But through manipulation, lies, and control, I found myself grieving a child who was still alive… but emotionally unreachable. The grief of parental alienation is complicated. It’s ongoing. It’s not recognized or validated the way other kinds of loss are. But I want you to know: you’re not alone. I’m still in that place — and I’ve learned how to keep showing up with love, patience, and dignity, even when it hurts. If you’re living through this, I’m here to hold space with you. To grieve with you. To remind you that your love still matters — even if you can’t see the results yet.

Finding recovery after losing a child to addiction

Mortana (Tana) N.

I’ve been in recovery for 15 months now, but the road here wasn’t smooth—it was gut-wrenching. I lost my 24-year-old daughter to addiction, and six months later, I lost my mom. After that, I spiraled. I went back to using, not because I didn’t want to stay clean, but because I didn’t know how to cope without the right support. At one point, I was homeless, back on the streets, and I felt like I had nothing left to lose. But I knew deep down I wanted to live. I entered treatment, then sober living, and slowly started putting the pieces back together. Now, I have my own place, a car, and a job I love—working as a peer support specialist at a treatment center. Helping others keeps me grounded. I know the heartbreak of losing a child to addiction, and I know what it means to find light again after that kind of darkness. If you’re struggling, grieving, or feeling lost, I’d be honored to sit with you. We don’t have to walk this road alone.

Surviving the unthinkable

Vanessa S.

Grief has touched every corner of my life. I was involved in a tragic accident that took someone’s life and changed me forever. Not long after, I lost my soulmate to suicide. Then I lost a close friend. And just when I thought my heart couldn’t break any more, I lost my son to fentanyl a loss no parent should ever have to survive. Each of these moments shattered a piece of me. The kind of silence that grief creates is heavy, isolating, and sometimes unbearable. There’s no roadmap, no “right” way to move through it. But somehow, I’ve learned to carry it. I’ve learned that we don’t move on we move with it. If you’re living with heartbreak, trauma, or the kind of loss that changed everything, you don’t have to face it alone.

The loss of a child and emotional and trauma recovery

Tim L.

12 years ago, my wife and I lost our daughter Margerrit. She died seconds after she was born, with there being nothing doctors could do. Since then, I have dealt with all sorts of triggers and other struggles, such as anxiety when my other children get sick, feeling a sense that a negative situation means doom, or just being unable to regulate my emotions well under stress.

The emotional challenges of adopting a child and the grief of losing them despite your best efforts

Sheridan W.

Adopting a child was one of the most meaningful decisions I ever made. I was filled with hope, thinking I could provide a safe, loving home and a fresh start. But I didn’t fully understand how complex the emotional journey would be. My adopted child came to me with deep, unhealed wounds: pain from their past, a sense of not belonging, and emotional struggles that I couldn’t always reach. I poured all of my love into trying to help them, but no matter how much I gave, it never seemed enough. The hardest part was watching them struggle with mental health and addiction, trying everything I could to support them. I spent countless sleepless nights worrying, seeking therapy, and finding ways to be there for them in the best way I knew. But despite my efforts, they couldn't overcome their inner pain. The grief and guilt of feeling like I couldn't “fix” what was broken in them weighed heavily on me. In the end, after years of struggle, I faced the heartbreaking loss of my child. The grief was all-consuming, and I was left with the deep sorrow of knowing that, no matter how much love I gave, it wasn’t enough to save them from their own battles. It’s a pain that words can’t fully capture, but I want others who are going through something similar to know they’re not alone. If you’re struggling with the pain of trying to help an adopted child who feels unreachable, I’m here to listen and offer support.

dealing with the death of a child

Susan K.

On a beautiful sunny morning of December 17th 2021, I received a frantic phone call from my son's girlfriend. My son was found dead from an accidental fentanyl overdose. At first we refused to believe it, but my mother's heart knew it was true. The first year we were numb. We went to work every day, we were on auto piolet. it was not until year two that the numbness wore off, and the pain truly set in. The past years have been a painful and incrementally slow process of grieving, drawing strength from each other, and learning to continue and love. My son was in so much pain physically, emotionally and spiritually. There are times when the guilt, shame and pain hit like a tsunami, a empathetic ear, can help you to walk through it.

Finding hope through infertility and pregnancy loss

Faith D.

I’m a mom who has walked through the heartbreak of infertility, miscarriages, and stillbirth. For years, I was stuck in waiting rooms, cycling through fertility clinics, facing disappointment after disappointment. There were days I couldn’t imagine ever becoming a mother and nights I wept over what I thought would never be. I’ve known the pain of loss and the weight of uncertainty, but I’ve also learned how to hold on to hope. Over time, and with support, I became a mom to two healthy boys and now have another on the way. My family doesn’t look exactly how I once imagined, but I wouldn’t trade our story for anything. Along this journey, I found strength in community, faith, and the quiet courage of showing up each day. I know what it’s like to feel out of control and desperately in need of compassion. Now, I’m here to offer that compassion to others—so you don’t have to face this alone.

Surviving loss and choosing to live again

Nuran S.

Three years ago, I lost my son—an experience that could have shattered me completely. The grief was overwhelming, and for a while, it felt like my world had stopped turning. But I had a choice: to let the loss consume me, or to find a way to keep going for my daughter, my husband, and for myself. I chose to keep living. Grief doesn’t go away, but I’ve learned how to carry it alongside joy, love, and meaning. Supporting my sister through the loss of her own daughter deepened my understanding of how personal and complicated grief can be. No one grieves the same way, but we all need space to feel heard, seen, and held in our pain. I’m here to offer that space to anyone going through a deep loss. You don’t have to carry it alone, and healing doesn’t mean forgetting—it means finding a way to move forward with love.

Navigating infertility after miscarriage

Shelbe B.

Infertility was never something I expected to be part of my story, but after having two children young, I suffered multiple miscarriages before being diagnosed with complete infertility at 27. Those losses were painful and isolating, especially because I didn’t have many people who could truly relate to what I was going through. I felt like my body had betrayed me, and each miscarriage left me grieving not just the babies I lost, but also the future I had envisioned. For years, I struggled with how to move forward and sometimes, I didn’t know if I could ever accept the reality that I wouldn’t be able to have more children. The emotional toll was heavy, but therapy and support from friends helped me to work through the grief. I had to come to terms with the fact that my family would look different than I expected. While I still mourn the children I didn’t get to have, I’ve found a sense of peace in the family I do have. If you’re struggling with infertility, I understand how hard it is to feel like your dreams of motherhood are slipping away. I want to be here for you to listen and support you through this journey of healing and acceptance.

Organ transplant surgery

Sarah C.

For five years—ages 18 to 23—I managed congestive heart failure. Medications, specialist appointments, lifestyle changes, exploring every option available. I told myself I would be alright, but deep down, I knew things were getting worse. My body was exhausted. I felt hopeless while struggling through the daily realities of heart failure. The idea of needing an organ transplant felt overwhelming—too big, too final, too terrifying to face. So I kept searching. I hoped things might improve with stem cell therapy. I was scared. What if the surgery failed? What if I didn’t find a donor in time? What would recovery even look like? I worried about the toll on my family, the financial weight, and the uncertainty of life after transplant. But slowly, I came to understand that waiting was its own risk. Staying in survival mode wasn’t truly living. And when things got worse, I had to be brave. I listened to the doctors. I pushed through the discomfort, the fear, the unknowns. The journey hasn’t been easy. There were setbacks, sleepless nights, and moments of deep uncertainty. But there was also clarity, connection, and incredible support. I learned to advocate for myself, to lean on others, and—slowly—to trust my body again. I found strength I didn’t know I had. And when the day finally came—the surgery, the healing, the second chance—I was terrified… but I was ready. Now, I’ve rebuilt life with new energy, deeper perspective, and lasting gratitude. If you’re facing the possibility of a transplant—or navigating the emotional weight of that decision—you are not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about your journey and what healing could look like for you.

burnout because you’re not lazy

Christine D.

I used to think burnout meant being tired. Like maybe I just needed a nap, a weekend off, or a better planner. But burnout isn’t just exhaustion, it’s a kind of soul-weariness. It’s waking up and feeling like your tank is on Empty, even after a full night’s sleep. It’s dreading your to-do list, feeling numb to things you used to care about, and quietly wondering if something is wrong with you because you just can’t anymore. For me, burnout came after years of trying to be the reliable one. The hard worker. The person who didn’t complain, who pushed through. I ignored the signs: the brain fog, the irritability, the constant fatigue, the Sunday dread. I thought rest was something you earned, not something you deserved just for being human. Eventually, my body and my spirit forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I realized how much I had been running on fear—fear of being replaceable, of not doing enough, of letting people down. Burnout made me rethink everything: how I work, who I do it for, and what I need to feel okay. If you’re feeling depleted, disconnected, or just done—you’re not weak. You’re not failing. You’re probably burnt out. And you deserve space to talk about it.

surviving and coping with fibromyalgia

Adley H.

Living with fibromyalgia means waking up every day in a body that doesn’t always feel like it’s on your side. It’s pain that moves and lingers, exhaustion that sleep doesn’t fix, and a constant fight to be believed in a world that doesn’t understand invisible illness. Some days, even the smallest tasks feel monumental. Other days, I grieve the life I thought I’d have before chronic illness changed everything. For me, fibromyalgia is deeply intertwined with trauma, stress, and nervous system dysregulation. My body has carried years of survival, and now it speaks through widespread pain, fatigue, and sensory overwhelm. I’ve spent years learning how to listen to it instead of fight it. That hasn’t been easy. There’s been guilt, frustration, isolation, and fear—but also resilience, self-compassion, and an ongoing process of redefining what strength looks like. I know what it’s like to feel dismissed by doctors, misunderstood by friends, and judged by a culture that values productivity over rest. I know how hard it is to advocate for yourself when you’re already so tired. And I know how powerful it can be to talk to someone who gets it—not because they read about it, but because they live it too.

body struggles and self-worth

Ritika D.

There was a time my body felt like a stranger—unpredictable, weak, and disconnected from the version of me I used to know. I wanted to show up in the world like I used to, but chronic fatigue and recurring health issues made even simple things feel exhausting. People would say, “But you look fine!” and I’d smile while quietly spiraling inside. It took time to learn how to befriend my body again. I started listening to it instead of fighting it. I gave myself permission to rest, to say no, and to ask for support—even when it felt uncomfortable.

living with a husband who has chronic illness for a season

Celeste G.

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.

navigating chronic illness with resilience, self-advocacy, and hope

Holley B.

Living with over 25+ years of TWO invisible chronic illnesses has been a test of both my body and my mental health and spirit. For years, I felt dismissed and gaslit by doctors, misunderstood by those around me, and unheard in a world that often overlooks the complexity of invisible illness. My symptoms were real, but the support was not — and that left me feeling isolated, defeated, and at times, hopeless. But I made a choice: I would become my own best advocate. I researched, I asked hard questions, I pushed back when I was minimized, and I refused to give up on myself. I learned to listen to my body, to speak up in medical appointments, and to build a team that believed me. Balancing these health challenges while parenting, healing from trauma, and staying sober wasn’t easy — but it taught me what true strength looks like. I’ve faced discouragement, flares, and fear. But I’ve also discovered peace through acceptance, connection, and even joy within the struggle. If you’re dealing with chronic illness and feeling unheard, burned out, or alone, I want you to know that you matter. You deserve care, compassion, and hope — and together, we can talk about how to fight for it.

managing diabetes and weight

Sunny H.

In college, I gained the freshman 15 and never really stopped. For years it was skipping meals, grabbing on the go unhealthy options, and late night snacking. I was building my career and then had 2 small children to raise. My health was suffering in many ways including poor eating and sleeping habits. When I decided I needed to feel better and stop living on coffee, fast food, and 11pm bowls of cereal, I threw my self into learning everything and I tried it all. Low Fat, Low Carb, Intermittent Fasting, Cardio, Weight Lifting, Meal Prep, Supplements, even Lap Band Surgery. All of it was temporary and felt like a battle of wills. Then came the diagnosis ... diabetes. Then my dad's diabetes got out of control and he was on dialysis. Then he died from complications of the disease. I promised my kids I would never let them sit next to me and keep me company for 4 hours while I was hooked up to a machine cleaning my blood because my kidneys couldn't anymore. Today I only focus on one number and it isn't the scale ... it's my blood sugar.

Chronic condition management as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

Managing a chronic condition isn’t just about symptoms—it’s about constantly recalibrating your life around energy, pain, mood, and unpredictability. For me, there’s no one-size-fits-all solution. Some days, I can do a lot. Other days, brushing my teeth feels like a win. And honestly? It’s taken time (and a lot of unlearning) to be okay with that. My condition doesn’t always show on the outside. From the outside, I might look ‘fine,’ but internally, I’m navigating fatigue, hormonal swings, executive dysfunction, pain, or sensory overload. Living with something chronic means becoming an expert in invisible labor—planning, managing, masking, recovering—and often doing all that silently. For a long time, I tried to force myself to keep up with expectations that didn’t match my reality. I pushed through until I crashed. I shamed myself for not being consistent. But slowly, I’ve learned to listen to my body. To create systems that bend when I need them to. To pace myself without guilt. To ask for help—even when that still feels hard. Chronic condition management is exhausting, yes. But it can also be an invitation to move through life in a way that’s more intentional, more present, and more grounded in your actual needs—not just what the world expects from you.

Balancing motherhood and health challenges

Jessica I.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

Living with a health scare that changed everything overnight

Tim L.

Four years ago, I was in the best shape of my life—running miles, strong, and finally feeling like I had real control over my health. Then, one day, I felt something strange in my chest. It passed after 16 hours, but returned a few days later. I brushed it off, thinking it was nothing. Months passed before I finally went to the ER and found out I had Afib. My body had been overproducing adrenaline to compensate, likely triggered by months of extreme stress—pastoring a church during the height of COVID, supporting people in crisis, carrying the weight of everyone else’s anxiety. What followed was the most vulnerable chapter of my life. I suddenly couldn’t do simple things without fearing I’d end up back in the hospital. I had never struggled with anxiety before, but now it was in my bones. I remember one moment so clearly—sitting on the edge of my bed a few days before my son’s seventh birthday, weeping. I was terrified I’d ruin his day. What if I had another episode at the party? What if I had to go to the ER in front of him? What if I couldn’t keep the promises we made for that day? I felt like life had completely collapsed, like I couldn’t move forward anymore. It took time, trial and error with medication, a heart procedure, and the support of my family to begin healing. This past year was my first full year without an episode. The fear still flares up sometimes, but I’ve learned to live again—even with the uncertainty. If you’ve had your life turned upside down by a health scare, I’d love to sit with you in that space where everything feels broken and help you figure out what comes next.

being a caregiver to a family member

Jessica B.

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.

burnout because you’re not lazy

Christine D.

I used to think burnout meant being tired. Like maybe I just needed a nap, a weekend off, or a better planner. But burnout isn’t just exhaustion, it’s a kind of soul-weariness. It’s waking up and feeling like your tank is on Empty, even after a full night’s sleep. It’s dreading your to-do list, feeling numb to things you used to care about, and quietly wondering if something is wrong with you because you just can’t anymore. For me, burnout came after years of trying to be the reliable one. The hard worker. The person who didn’t complain, who pushed through. I ignored the signs: the brain fog, the irritability, the constant fatigue, the Sunday dread. I thought rest was something you earned, not something you deserved just for being human. Eventually, my body and my spirit forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I realized how much I had been running on fear—fear of being replaceable, of not doing enough, of letting people down. Burnout made me rethink everything: how I work, who I do it for, and what I need to feel okay. If you’re feeling depleted, disconnected, or just done—you’re not weak. You’re not failing. You’re probably burnt out. And you deserve space to talk about it.

Managing relationship challenges and setting boundaries

Christine D.

For the past five years, I’ve spent hundreds of hours listening to people talk through their relationship struggles—whether it was with friends, family, coworkers, partners, or even themselves. I know how easy it is to fall into patterns like people-pleasing or conflict avoidance, and how overwhelming it can feel when those patterns leave you disconnected or resentful. In my own life, I’ve had to learn how to set healthy boundaries, have uncomfortable conversations, and take small steps to stay connected without losing myself. I’m passionate about helping people sort through the messy middle of relationships, because I’ve seen firsthand that with a little support and reflection, things really can get better. Sometimes it’s just about having someone listen and help you figure out your next step. I’m here to be that person for you.

about overthinking

Christine D.

I’ve spent way too many nights trying to fall asleep with a brain that insists on replaying that one awkward moment from three years ago or analyzing every possible outcome of a decision I haven’t even made yet. Sound familiar? Overthinking can look like productivity on the outside like you’re being thorough or responsible. But on the inside? It’s often anxiety wearing a clever disguise. It’s fear of failure, fear of regret, fear of what people will think. And it can leave you stuck in loops: what if I mess up? What if I’m too much? What if I’m not enough? I used to think I just needed to “think my way out” of feeling overwhelmed. But that strategy kept me spinning. What actually helped was learning how to name what I was feeling underneath all the thoughts, to pause the mental ping-pong match, and to stop treating myself like a problem to be solved. If your mind is constantly racing, if you’re tired of second-guessing yourself into paralysis, or if you just want someone to help you sort through the noise—I'm your girl.

Finding clarity and purpose when life feels heavy, hopeless, or stuck

Angelica A.

There was a time when I looked like I had it all together—a stable job, a plan, a life that made sense on paper. But inside, I felt stuck, numb, and completely disconnected from any real sense of joy or purpose. I had always been the strong, independent one, figuring things out on my own. But this time, I was just exhausted. Every day felt like survival mode. I kept telling myself to “just make it work,” but my soul was getting heavier by the day. When I tried to talk about it, I didn’t have the words—and when I did, I was often met with surface-level advice or silence. So I turned inward. I journaled. I followed little sparks of hope wherever I could find them. I started asking myself, “What if life could actually feel better?” and that one question changed everything. Bit by bit, I realized I wasn’t just sad or burnt out—I was misaligned. I had outgrown the life I was living, and that misalignment was draining me. The more I got curious, the more I started noticing signs and synchronicities guiding me toward something deeper: purpose. Now, I live from that place. My life is still imperfect, but I have an inner anchor. I help others who feel stuck, tired, or lost remember who they are and why they’re here. Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re carrying it all alone—and I also know what it’s like to come out the other side with clarity, purpose, and a renewed sense of self.

Postpartum

Vanessa S.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

Spotting burnout before it breaks you

Carrie M.

For months, I kept telling myself I was just tired. I'd wake up exhausted after a full night's sleep, drag myself through the day, and collapse on the couch feeling like I had nothing left to give. Work that used to energize me felt overwhelming, and I found myself snapping at people I cared about. I kept thinking if I could just power through, things would get better. But they didn't. I was running on empty and didn't even realize how empty the tank had become. The wake-up call came when I realized I'd stopped enjoying things that used to bring me joy. Everything felt like effort—even simple conversations with friends or activities I used to love. I wasn't just tired; I was completely depleted. I had to face the fact that the way I was working and living wasn't sustainable. The hardest part was admitting I needed to step back when everyone was counting on me, but I finally understood that I couldn't keep giving from an empty well. Recovery wasn't a quick fix—it was a gradual process of rebuilding my energy and rediscovering boundaries I'd let slip away. I had to learn to say no without guilt, to protect my time fiercely, and to recognize the early warning signs before I got to that breaking point again. Most importantly, I learned that rest isn't selfish; it's necessary. If you're feeling depleted, overwhelmed, or like you've lost yourself in the demands of life, I've walked that path and found my way back.

Burnout as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

I used to think burnout just meant being tired or needing a weekend off. But as someone with ADHD and autism, I’ve learned it runs way deeper than that. It can feel like everything is too much and nothing is enough. I’d push through all the exhaustion and overwhelm, trying to keep up, trying to ‘get it together,’ thinking if I could just focus harder or stay organized, things would be fine. But underneath all that pushing was masking, sensory overload, and constantly working against a world that wasn’t really built for how my brain works. I’d look like I was functioning on the outside, but inside? I was completely drained—mentally, emotionally, physically. And then came the crash. Burnout didn’t just affect my energy—it shook my confidence, my routines, my relationships. Even basic stuff like eating, showering, or answering texts started to feel impossible. And when I looked for support, a lot of what I found didn’t speak to the reality of being neurodivergent. Like, I love the idea of ‘self-care,’ but what do you do when even that feels like another task on the list? What helped me wasn’t one big fix, but a bunch of small shifts—unlearning some of the shame, creating systems that actually work for me, and giving myself permission to rest without guilt. I had to redefine what success looks like for me and stop measuring myself against standards that were never made with me in mind. If any of this sounds familiar—if you're feeling stretched thin, emotionally exhausted, or like you're constantly running on fumes—you’re not alone. I get it. Let’s talk it out and figure out what care and recovery can look like for you.

Stay-at-home parenting and protecting your mental health

Calvin N.

Becoming a stay-at-home parent was one of the most rewarding—and hardest—roles I’ve taken on. I didn’t expect the loneliness, the constant pressure to be “on,” or the way my own mental health challenges would resurface when I had no break. I struggled with anxiety, burnout, and self-doubt, wondering if I was really doing enough or being enough for my kids and myself. It took time, therapy, and a lot of trial and error to find a balance that worked: setting boundaries, asking for help, and learning to value my own needs alongside my kids’. I know how isolating and overwhelming this role can be, and I want to help others protect their peace and thrive in the chaos.

Caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s while balancing everything else

Virginia F.

When my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I became her primary caregiver for eight years. At the same time, I was raising my son, managing chronic pain from a car accident, and trying to hold onto pieces of my own life. I quickly learned that caregiving isn’t just a role: it’s a transformation. You become the memory-keeper, the nurse, the advocate, and often, the emotional sponge. Every day brought new challenges: the guilt of feeling overwhelmed, the heartbreak of watching her slip away, and the stress of coordinating everything from medication to safety-proofing her home. I once spent hours trying to calm her after she forgot who I was. Those moments haunted me, but also fueled my determination to show up with love. After she passed, I shifted into caring for my dad, who faced physical disabilities and psychiatric struggles. By then, I had developed a rhythm, one that protected my own mental health while still being there fully for him. I don’t sugarcoat caregiving, but I do know how to help you feel more steady, less alone, and better prepared for each step on this unpredictable path.

Anger, turns out I wasn't just feisty

Kari K.

I used to shove my anger down until it exploded - or leaded out sideways in sarcasm and sass. I'll share how I learned to name anger, sit with it, and learn something instead of torching every one in site. Spoiler: breathing DOES help - but so does swearing into a pillow.

Communicating while neurodivergent

Mike C.

I spent years feeling like I was trying to translate my thoughts and emotions into a language that wasn’t mine. Conversations that seemed effortless for others—small talk, advocating for myself, expressing feelings without fear—felt exhausting. Being neurodivergent meant my brain processed interactions differently, and it wasn’t always easy for people to understand that. Over time, I learned that effective communication isn’t about forcing yourself to conform—it’s about discovering how you communicate best and finding strategies that help others meet you where you are. Whether it’s navigating relationships, workplace dynamics, or even daily interactions, having tools that honor your needs can make a huge difference. Through peer support, I’ve helped people uncover their communication strengths, manage overwhelm in social situations, and build confidence in expressing themselves authentically. You don’t have to mask or shrink yourself to be heard. Let’s explore what works for you.

Finding your emotional language when you’ve always felt misunderstood

Mike C.

For most of my life, it felt like I was speaking a different emotional language than everyone around me. Conversations that should have been simple—expressing feelings, setting boundaries, navigating friendships—felt like puzzles with missing pieces. Being neurodivergent added an extra layer of complexity; sometimes I felt too much, sometimes too little, and almost always like I was being misunderstood. I’ve spent years untangling that sense of disconnection—communicating in a way that feels true to me while still bridging the gap with others. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped people recognize their own emotional language, whether it’s through words, actions, or quiet understanding. You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s mold to be heard. If you’ve ever struggled to express your feelings or felt like you just don’t "fit" emotionally, I get it. Let’s explore how you naturally communicate and find ways to connect with the people who truly understand you.

Managing relationship challenges and setting boundaries

Christine D.

For the past five years, I’ve spent hundreds of hours listening to people talk through their relationship struggles—whether it was with friends, family, coworkers, partners, or even themselves. I know how easy it is to fall into patterns like people-pleasing or conflict avoidance, and how overwhelming it can feel when those patterns leave you disconnected or resentful. In my own life, I’ve had to learn how to set healthy boundaries, have uncomfortable conversations, and take small steps to stay connected without losing myself. I’m passionate about helping people sort through the messy middle of relationships, because I’ve seen firsthand that with a little support and reflection, things really can get better. Sometimes it’s just about having someone listen and help you figure out your next step. I’m here to be that person for you.

Establishing and upholding your boundaries

Daneeta S.

I have both personal and professional experience with establishing boundaries. Personally, I have learned the difference between boundaries, desires and demands, and the benefits of establishing and upholding my personal boundaries. As a life coach I have been granted the opportunity to help others to recognize the same. I find boundaries to be important to well-being, and gaining a true understanding of what boundaries are, as well as what they are not, as crucial to the process. You are your own person, therefore your boundaries should be your own, for you, and contribute to your personal growth and wellness. I would love to help you in cultivating your own beneficial boundaries.

Supporting a loved one through family estrangement

Aditya R.

A few years ago, my family went through a tough chapter. Right before the pandemic, my brother had a falling out with my mom and they became estranged for four years. It was painful for her to be cut off, especially from her grandchildren, and I could see how much it affected her emotionally. At first, I tried to fix it—I felt like I had to patch everything up. That didn’t work. I eventually realized I couldn’t control the situation, but I could be a steady presence for both of them. I helped my mom find other ways to stay connected with joy—encouraging her to stay active, find new outlets, and reflect honestly on how things got to where they were. I also gently guided her toward being open to hard, vulnerable conversations that could slowly open the door to healing. Over time, the ice began to thaw. While the relationship isn’t what it once was, they’re talking again, and there’s genuine progress. That experience showed me just how complicated—but possible—reconnection can be. And I’d love to be a sounding board for anyone trying to support a loved one through estrangement. It’s never a straight path, but you don’t have to walk it alone.

loving and having a romantic partnership with someone who is incarcerated

Nicole B.

As someone who has been in a romantic partnership with a person who is incarcerated, I understsnd the unique set of challenges and emotions that come with this experience. The separation, the communication barriers, and the societal stigma can create an immense strain on both partners and the relationship itself. It's a difficult journey, but you don't have to figure it out all on your own. Together, we'll explore ways to communicate effectively, maintain emotional connection, and care for your mental well-being during these challenging times.

healing from anger issues

Celeste G.

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.

Co-parenting with a narcissistic ex

Victoria D.

Co-parenting hasn’t been easy for me—I’ve had to navigate it with someone who constantly put his own needs above our child’s. For over a year, I documented everything—photos, messages, patterns of behavior—because I knew I’d need evidence to protect my child. I eventually went to court and was able to gain custody. It was exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes felt like a never-ending game I didn’t want to play. But I stayed focused on what mattered: my child’s well-being. I’ve learned how to set strong boundaries, communicate only when necessary, and not let his manipulation get under my skin. I had to shift from reacting emotionally to responding with intention—and that took time. Now, I use what I’ve been through to help others who are in the thick of it. I get what it’s like to feel powerless and unheard, and I know the emotional toll it can take. But I also know it’s possible to regain control, protect your peace, and create a safe and stable environment for your kids.

Self advocacy

Amber H.

For a long time, I was told how to feel, how to dress, how any original idea I had was wrong. I got programmed into believing that I didn’t know what was best for me and that I sounded ignorant whenever I tried to voice my opinion. When I finally broke free of the toxicity of that relationship, I found it difficult to express myself to doctors and therapists, even friends and family, because I was so full of self doubt. I couldn’t even order food at a restaurant because it filled me with crippling anxiety. Finding my own voice has been challenging and not without setbacks. My first step in advocating for myself was learning that most people are forgiving and supportive when they are given the opportunity to be. This has helped me to gain the confidence I needed to be able to ask for help, let the person know what kind of help I do need and, most importantly, what I’d like to order from the menu:)

Supporting a loved one through family estrangement

Aditya R.

A few years ago, my family went through a tough chapter. Right before the pandemic, my brother had a falling out with my mom and they became estranged for four years. It was painful for her to be cut off, especially from her grandchildren, and I could see how much it affected her emotionally. At first, I tried to fix it—I felt like I had to patch everything up. That didn’t work. I eventually realized I couldn’t control the situation, but I could be a steady presence for both of them. I helped my mom find other ways to stay connected with joy—encouraging her to stay active, find new outlets, and reflect honestly on how things got to where they were. I also gently guided her toward being open to hard, vulnerable conversations that could slowly open the door to healing. Over time, the ice began to thaw. While the relationship isn’t what it once was, they’re talking again, and there’s genuine progress. That experience showed me just how complicated—but possible—reconnection can be. And I’d love to be a sounding board for anyone trying to support a loved one through estrangement. It’s never a straight path, but you don’t have to walk it alone.

healing from anger issues

Celeste G.

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.

about how anger manifests in your behavior

Sandy P.

But first, let me explain how it manifests for me. There's the obvious: I see or hear what I don't like and there's an immediate surge of energy from the gut. I feel like cursing, or striking out, or if in public, I want to ignore or hide from it. I struggle with competing desires: lose control or pretend it didn't happen. When I was a child, when my anger was prohibited, I would burst into tears and get ridiculed for it. And guess what!! It can happen to me today, many years later. I freeze up. There's a voice that says girl anger is not OK. Be NICE! says that insidious voice back in my mind. Sometimes, anger doesn't reveal itself through overt actions or impulses. For me, it can simmer beneath the surface and erupt at inappropriate times. Maybe it comes out as sneaky, passive resistance, or a biting comment or an icy silence. My internal struggle can be exhausting. Sometimes when it gets the best of me, I end up looking foolish. Then other times the anger morphs into something entirely different like anxiety or sadness or fear. It becomes a tangled web of emotions that are hard to identify and address. I find myself too sleepy, or agitated, roaming the house, raiding the refrigerator. While here at Fello we're not in the business of psychoanalyzing behavior, developing awareness of our inner workings is a good option for taking control of strong emotions that often work to our detriment. For me, they cause insomnia and overeating. Recognizing these patterns and trigger points within myself was my first step toward understanding and managing my anger. Understanding is crucial for personal growth and maintaining healthy relationships. By understanding myself a little bit better, I can better navigate these feelings and respond in ways that are constructive rather than destructive. It's such a relief to start having mastery over what can seem like a big, out of control monster!

Relationship challenges and fostering understanding

Loretta H.

At 19, I moved in with my girlfriend, even though it wasn’t the best situation for me. Despite the challenges we faced, I remained calm and focused on showing empathy and understanding. I took the time to listen to her side and offered advice whenever I could, always trying to keep the peace and make the situation better. My journey has led me to work in peer support, where I have continued to use these skills to help others navigate difficult situations. In my role at a community service board, I’ve visited homes to counsel individuals, offering them a listening ear and guidance through their struggles. Through all of this, I’ve learned how important it is to approach tough situations with empathy and a willingness to understand the other person’s perspective. Now, I’m here to offer the same support to others who are facing challenges in their relationships, whether they’re navigating difficult living situations, co-parenting, or trying to heal from past struggles.

your caregiving challenges with your parent(s) or another adult

Sandy P.

I cared for my dad for 7 years, first in my home, then in his. Both situations posed unique challenges, uncertainty, and moments that tested our resilience. While building my psychotherapy business (you'd think that line of business would have been to my advantage, but not so!), he was dealing with the consequences of bladder cancer surgery. At my house, I had some authority; at his house, he wanted to take charge, often calling me by my mother's name. Through it all we had occasions where we heard what the other was trying to say. We even resolved a long-standing pet peeve of mine. I acted horribly at times, and he reciprocated. We each also had moments of great generosity. It brought out the best and the worst in us. My dad was conflicted about depending on me. He'd praise my dedication yet feared I might harm him with his medications. He appreciated having me as his daughter and resented my friendships outside the family. He'd team up with them to make fun of me. I had complicated feelings about having to leave my home as well as being the only child who could take on the caregiving task. So, we had moments of mutual unkindness and forgiveness. To cope he worked on many projects in his workshop, and I stayed long hours at my office. I realize now how toxic anger and resentment can be, especially if it's not totally conscious as such. But I see us as ultimately coping in our own way. And having balance in the end. If I were to do it over, I'd know that sharing our stress could have prevented unconscious reactions. Having a trusted outlet, like a Fello to confide in, would have provided perspective and tools for discussing delicate topics for each of us. Knowing someone else has had our experience would have been a huge relief. Talking about the relationship's negative aspects could have also made room for us to appreciate each other more, especially as time was running out for one of us. But we survived it all. We just kept plugging along and we were at peace in the end.

Financial disagreements when love and money throw punches

Kari K.

Money is never just money. I've learned this through marriage, divorce, and building a business. I'll share how I've navigated tension, set boundaries, and made peace with being the one who has to talk about the budget first - without losing my mind or my dignity.

Navigating sobriety as a parent, and dealing with loss and work stress

Stephen M.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

Navigating the challenges of special needs parenting and co-parenting through separation

Christine I.

I’ve been through a lot when it comes to parenting—raising four children, two of whom were adopted with special needs. My journey started with a very traditional upbringing, where gender roles were strictly defined. I married young and, over time, found myself taking on more of the responsibility for our children’s care, including advocating for them when they needed extra support. Unfortunately, this led to a growing disconnect between my ex and me, and we eventually separated. But through open communication and a focus on co-parenting, we’ve managed to create a positive environment for our children. Raising adopted kids, especially those with trauma, has been incredibly challenging. My son, Anthony, has severe ADHD, a history of substance exposure, and a head injury, which makes his needs complex. My daughter, Juliette, has autism, which added layers to our parenting experience. I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed and isolated, especially when you're trying to navigate the systems and support your children in ways others may not fully understand. But through it all, I’ve learned resilience. I’ve become a mentor for other parents dealing with similar struggles, whether it's understanding special education laws or finding ways to make sure their children are heard and supported. I’ve realized that advocating for my children, even through the hardest times, has made me stronger—and I want to help others do the same.

Navigating the challenges of raising children with mental health struggles (learning differences, anxiety, and depression)

Katye S.

As a mom of three, I know firsthand the complexities of raising kids in today’s world, especially when mental health struggles are part of the journey. My kids have faced a range of challenges, including learning differences, anxiety, and depression. One of my children was severely impacted by bullying, which led to mood disruptions and a lot of pain. The pandemic and the rise of technology have only added to the isolation they feel. It can be a scary place, not knowing where to turn for support or understanding. I’ve watched my children struggle, but I’ve also seen them make progress. It’s not easy, but I’ve learned the importance of leaning on the right resources—behavioral therapy, support from family and friends—and the power of connection. I’ve also supported a dear friend through her own challenges with her children, offering a safe space for her to talk openly about her situation. It helped her feel less alone, knowing others were going through similar struggles. Now, I want to provide that same kind of support to others who are navigating the often tough and isolating road of parenting kids with mental health challenges.

Co-parenting with a narcissistic ex

Victoria D.

Co-parenting hasn’t been easy for me—I’ve had to navigate it with someone who constantly put his own needs above our child’s. For over a year, I documented everything—photos, messages, patterns of behavior—because I knew I’d need evidence to protect my child. I eventually went to court and was able to gain custody. It was exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes felt like a never-ending game I didn’t want to play. But I stayed focused on what mattered: my child’s well-being. I’ve learned how to set strong boundaries, communicate only when necessary, and not let his manipulation get under my skin. I had to shift from reacting emotionally to responding with intention—and that took time. Now, I use what I’ve been through to help others who are in the thick of it. I get what it’s like to feel powerless and unheard, and I know the emotional toll it can take. But I also know it’s possible to regain control, protect your peace, and create a safe and stable environment for your kids.

Navigating relationship challenges and finding your voice

Jake A.

I’ve lived through a lot of relationship changes in my life—two divorces, co-parenting my son, exploring non-traditional relationship structures, and learning how to show up authentically through it all. Over the years, I’ve learned that no two relationships look the same, and that communication is the key to creating something healthy, whether it’s with a romantic partner, a co-parent, or even yourself. I’ve also built and run my own business, traveled the world, and formed meaningful connections with people from all kinds of backgrounds, which has shaped how I approach relationships and life in general. After a lot of reflection and growth, I’ve realized that sometimes the biggest roadblocks aren’t the obvious ones—they’re the deeper patterns we carry from childhood or past relationships. Now, I use everything I’ve learned to help others navigate difficult conversations, break through emotional blocks, and feel more confident expressing their needs. If you need a space to vent or want to explore solutions, I’m here.

the grief of parental alienation and how to keep going when your child feels out of reach

Holley B.

There is no grief like watching your child be turned against you — while you’re still alive, still loving them, still fighting to be in their life. Parental alienation is a form of emotional abuse, and it leaves deep scars — not just on the targeted parent, but on the child who is caught in the middle. I never imagined I’d experience the pain of being erased, rejected, or falsely portrayed — especially after surviving so much and just wanting to give my child the love and safety they deserved. But through manipulation, lies, and control, I found myself grieving a child who was still alive… but emotionally unreachable. The grief of parental alienation is complicated. It’s ongoing. It’s not recognized or validated the way other kinds of loss are. But I want you to know: you’re not alone. I’m still in that place — and I’ve learned how to keep showing up with love, patience, and dignity, even when it hurts. If you’re living through this, I’m here to hold space with you. To grieve with you. To remind you that your love still matters — even if you can’t see the results yet.

Supporting a transgender child through family acceptance struggles

Julia H.

As a parent of a transgender child, I’ve had to navigate the complexities of family acceptance. My ex-husband has struggled to accept our child’s identity, and I’ve often found myself in the middle of difficult conversations, trying to protect my child while maintaining family dynamics. I’ve watched my child face rejection and misunderstanding, and it’s been one of the toughest things I’ve ever experienced. But through it all, I’ve learned the importance of love, patience, and standing firm in my support. I’ve learned how to advocate for my child, even when it means challenging long-held beliefs within my own family. Along the way, I’ve had to process my own emotions and work through feelings of sadness and frustration, but I’ve also found joy in watching my child grow stronger and more confident in who they are. This journey has reshaped how I see family, love, and acceptance, and I’m passionate about helping others who are going through similar struggles. If you’re facing challenges with family acceptance, I’m here to walk alongside you and offer support.

Co-parenting with a narcissist and how you’re not alone in this battle

Vanessa S.

Co-parenting with someone who once abused you emotionally is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. The lies didn’t stop after I left, neither did the manipulation, the blame, or the mind games. He used our children to try and control me. He made me question myself as a mom. It felt like I was fighting to protect my peace every single day. I know what it’s like to smile for your kids while silently breaking inside. To send them off to someone you don’t trust. To document everything. To walk on eggshells, even after the relationship ends. But I also know what it feels like to take your power back. Slowly. Quietly. Fiercely. If you're stuck in this reality, I want you to know you don’t have to figure it all out alone. I’ve been there and still standing.

Managing emotional triggers around money

Carrie M.

Money conversations with my co-parent used to leave me feeling frustrated, misunderstood, and emotionally drained. Every discussion about expenses felt like a negotiation, and I found myself getting defensive or angry before we'd even started talking. It wasn't really about the money—it was about feeling like our priorities didn't align, like we saw our responsibilities differently, and like every financial decision became a reflection of who cared more about our kids. I realized I was bringing so much emotional baggage to these conversations that we couldn't actually solve anything. My hurt feelings, assumptions about their intentions, and fear of conflict were making every discussion harder than it needed to be. I had to step back and figure out how to separate the practical decisions from the emotional wounds. It wasn't easy, but I learned that I could only control my part of the conversation. The breakthrough came when I started focusing on what I could change—my communication style, my boundaries, and my perspective on these interactions. I learned to prepare for these conversations differently, to stay focused on the kids' needs rather than our past grievances, and to protect my emotional energy when discussions got heated. These conversations still aren't easy, but they don't derail my entire week anymore. If you're struggling with financial discussions in co-parenting, feeling triggered by money conversations, or exhausted by the emotional weight of these negotiations, I understand how isolating and draining this can be.

Making hard relationship decisions with clarity and peace

Sami C.

I’ve made some of the hardest relationship decisions a woman can face—walking away from a long-term marriage after betrayal, and later ending a short-lived second marriage that I knew in my gut wasn’t right even before the wedding. In both cases, I battled feelings of guilt, fear, and confusion—especially as a woman of faith trying to do “the right thing.” I understand how isolating it feels when you’re stuck between what looks good on paper and what your soul is whispering. Whether you’re questioning a relationship, recovering from one, or just trying to hear your own voice again, I can help you find clarity and peace.

Everyday stressors

Amber H.

Sometimes we can’t pinpoint exactly why we are feeling down or overwhelmed, we just are. I understand that all to well because I experience this often. Because I have a history with depression and anxiety, I know how important it is to talk through our everyday stressors and get an outsiders perspective. I am here to listen and support you through this. I can reassure you that you aren’t alone in feeling overwhelmed and I can offer suggestions and techniques I’ve used to stay grounded in the moment.

Self advocacy

Amber H.

For a long time, I was told how to feel, how to dress, how any original idea I had was wrong. I got programmed into believing that I didn’t know what was best for me and that I sounded ignorant whenever I tried to voice my opinion. When I finally broke free of the toxicity of that relationship, I found it difficult to express myself to doctors and therapists, even friends and family, because I was so full of self doubt. I couldn’t even order food at a restaurant because it filled me with crippling anxiety. Finding my own voice has been challenging and not without setbacks. My first step in advocating for myself was learning that most people are forgiving and supportive when they are given the opportunity to be. This has helped me to gain the confidence I needed to be able to ask for help, let the person know what kind of help I do need and, most importantly, what I’d like to order from the menu:)

Setting SMART goals

Vanessa S.

For a long time, I’d set huge goals and then beat myself up when I didn’t reach them. I thought motivation alone would carry me, but when life hit hard, I lost steam, got discouraged, and stopped trying. I didn’t realize I was setting myself up to fail by not having a real plan. When I learned about SMART goals: setting goals that were Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound, it changed everything. I started small. I tracked progress. I let go of the idea that everything had to happen overnight. And slowly, I started seeing real change. I built confidence, momentum, and most importantly, self-trust. If you’ve struggled with staying on track, feeling overwhelmed, or not knowing where to start, let’s talk. Setting goals isn’t just about success. It’s about healing and believing in yourself again. What We Can Talk About Together:

Balancing work and family

Carrie M.

I used to think balance meant doing everything perfectly—being the ideal employee who never missed a deadline and the perfect parent who never missed a school event. The reality was exhausting. I was constantly feeling like I was failing at both roles, leaving work early with guilt and staying late while missing bedtime stories. I felt like I was letting everyone down while slowly losing myself in the process. The person I used to be seemed to disappear under the weight of all these competing demands. The turning point came when I realized that balance isn't about perfection—it's about making conscious choices about what matters most in each season of life. I had to get comfortable with trade-offs and stop trying to be everything to everyone. Some days work took priority, other days family came first, and slowly I learned to be okay with that ebb and flow. I also had to fight for small pockets of time that were just mine, even if it was just fifteen minutes with my coffee before everyone else woke up. What surprised me most was how my identity evolved through this process. I discovered that being a working parent didn't mean I had to choose between being successful professionally and being present for my family. Instead, I learned to integrate these roles in a way that felt authentic to me. I made peace with good enough in some areas so I could excel in others. If you're feeling stretched thin, guilty about your choices, or like you've lost yourself in the juggle, I understand that struggle intimately.

Getting unstuck from “what’s next?” moments

Angela V.

I’ve hit the 'stuck' phase more than once—feeling like I was spinning my wheels, craving change, but unsure what direction to go. I used to think I needed to have a five-year plan or a perfectly clear vision before I could make a move. Turns out, I just needed to start asking better questions and be willing to take small, brave steps. Through journaling, coaching, reflection, and trial-and-error, I learned how to listen to my inner voice instead of outside noise. I got clear on my values and how I wanted to feel in my next chapter—not just what title I wanted. If you’re feeling restless, unsure, or stuck at a crossroads, I’d love to help you sort through the noise and get back to clarity.

healing insecure attachment in romantic relationships

Andria L.

I used to be a serial monogamist who hated being alone. I was caught in a cycle of craving closeness and then panicking when I got it. My relationships were intense, filled with anxiety, jealousy, and the kind of overthinking that makes a text message feel like life or death. I cheated in past relationships and carried deep shame around it until I finally started to understand the why behind it all. I had grown up with a lot of dysfunction and addiction in my family, and those roots showed up in the way I attached to others. Therapy was not easy for me at first—I actually avoided it for a while. But once I leaned in, I started healing my disorganized attachment and learning to be securely connected to myself first. That changed everything. I'm now 17 years into a healthy, loving marriage, and I’ve helped others untangle their own painful patterns too. From decoding the bratty behavior that’s really a cry for love, to making peace with your inner panic, I’m here to support you in finding your version of calm, connected love.

Navigating the challenges of finding the right childcare fit for your family

Lisa B.

As a mother of four, I’ve navigated the ups and downs of figuring out what type of childcare works best at each stage of my children’s lives. From infant care to toddler transitions to school-aged kids, every stage brings its own challenges and decisions. I’ve had to try different childcare arrangements—whether it was daycare, nannies, or Au Pairs—and each time, it felt like starting from scratch. There were moments of frustration, where I wondered if I’d ever find a balance between what my family needed and what was available. What I’ve learned along the way is that there’s no one-size-fits-all solution. Every family is unique, and what works for one may not be the right fit for another. But with each experience, I’ve come to understand how important it is to stay true to your family’s values, needs, and priorities. I’ve found that the key is staying open to different options and being willing to adjust as your children grow and their needs evolve. At the end of the day, finding the right childcare is about more than just convenience—it’s about ensuring your children are in a supportive, nurturing environment where they can thrive, and where your family can feel at ease knowing they’re in good hands. I’ve had to make a lot of tough decisions, but through it all, I’ve learned to trust that the right fit will come with time, patience, and a willingness to be flexible.

parenting with a disability

Ashley F.

I am legally blind. When I say "blind," I mean blind. I'm so blind that I can't even see enough to read large print. My primary means of reading are through Braille and audio, and I am able to do anything a sighted person can do on a smartphone with the help of Voiceover. Having a baby and navigating the early years is difficult. Add single motherhood, and things get rough. But how to navigate parenting when you're the only parent, blind, and being alone with your baby most of the time? I did it, and I came out the other side stronger, more resourceful. I learned to change a diaper with the help of my mother. She bought a baby doll and proceeded to have me practice on the doll. But boy oh boy, the day before she went back to work, the day before my first day of being alone with my baby, I was a wreck. Nerves on top of postpartum hormones? No thanks. Brush-washing bottles became learned by being shown and practiced as well. I made his formula by using a Brezza; I just needed a sighted person to preset the machine so that it would put the right amount of formula into the bottle. The difficulty really started when my son got to the "pointing" stage. He couldn't verbalize what he wanted; all he was able to do was point. And this blind bat couldn't figure out (yes I do make blind jokes and love it), so he'd fuss. But I pushed through. I would figure out what he wanted eventually through knowing his routine, learning his cries, and plain and simple trial and error. In parenting with a disability (regardless of what the disability may be), abounding love for the child, the right resources, and determination are the keys to success. It can be done; I'm living proof.

Single parenting from a healed place

Ashley F.

Hello! I’m a visually impaired single mom who’s been raising my son on my own since day one, and I know firsthand how overwhelming—and rewarding—that journey can be. When my husband left during my pregnancy, I was devastated. But leaning on my faith in God, the love of my family, and the strength I discovered in small everyday victories helped me keep going. My parents always believed in me and supported me through public school, and that encouragement laid the foundation for who I am today. I’m currently working toward becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor because I want to walk alongside others in their hardest seasons. I’ve battled clinical depression and PTSD, and I’ve come out stronger, more compassionate, and deeply committed to helping others feel seen, heard, and supported. If you’re navigating single parenthood, trauma, or just need someone to talk to who truly understands, I’m here—and I can’t wait to connect.

parenting a neurodivergent child as a neurodivergent parent

Cassi c.

Becoming a parent completely shifted my world. Before my son was born, I was just living life moment-to-moment, but parenting pushed me to grow in ways I hadn’t imagined. Diagnosed as autistic in adulthood, I had to learn how to advocate not just for myself but also for my child, who is autistic and has ADHD. Our journey hasn’t always been smooth, especially when navigating systems or other adults who had negative views about neurodivergency. I’ve learned to set aside traditional expectations and instead celebrate my son’s unique way of being in the world. Through our gentle parenting approach, I’ve developed strategies for communication, collaboration, and skill-building that respect both of our needs. Parenting helped me find my voice and deepen my empathy, both for myself and others. I know how isolating and overwhelming this path can feel, and I’m here to offer support, validation, and real-world tools to anyone walking a similar journey.

Communicating while neurodivergent

Mike C.

I spent years feeling like I was trying to translate my thoughts and emotions into a language that wasn’t mine. Conversations that seemed effortless for others—small talk, advocating for myself, expressing feelings without fear—felt exhausting. Being neurodivergent meant my brain processed interactions differently, and it wasn’t always easy for people to understand that. Over time, I learned that effective communication isn’t about forcing yourself to conform—it’s about discovering how you communicate best and finding strategies that help others meet you where you are. Whether it’s navigating relationships, workplace dynamics, or even daily interactions, having tools that honor your needs can make a huge difference. Through peer support, I’ve helped people uncover their communication strengths, manage overwhelm in social situations, and build confidence in expressing themselves authentically. You don’t have to mask or shrink yourself to be heard. Let’s explore what works for you.

Thriving as a neurodivergent thinker in a world that doesn’t get it

Mike C.

I often feel like I'm operating on a different frequency—processing things in ways that made perfect sense to me but seemed confusing to the world around me. Whether it was how I approached conversations, structured my thoughts, or reacted to social dynamics, these spaces never jived with my design. At times, that led to frustration, self-doubt, and isolation. I either tried to mask my differences to blend in or leaned so far into them that I struggled to find common ground with others. It wasn’t until I started actively learning about neurodivergence that things truly shifted. My brain wasn’t ‘wrong’—it was just operating on a different set operating system. Through peer support, I’ve helped others navigate their unique neurodivergent experience, uncover their strengths and advocate for their needs. If you’ve ever felt like you were constantly adjusting yourself just to be understood, let’s talk. You deserve spaces where you can thrive exactly as you are.

how a Psychiatric Advanced Directive (PAD) can help you advocate for yourself

Tim G.

I spent two years of my young adulthood in and out of psychiatric hospitals, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. During that time, I felt swallowed by depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of painful relationships that left me unsure if I’d ever feel free again. I was constantly cycling through crisis, often misunderstood, and sometimes silenced in the very systems that were supposed to help. Then I discovered Psychiatric Advanced Directives (PADs), and everything started to shift. I’ve used PADs to express my wishes, protect my rights, and bring my care team—my psychologist, naturopath, even legal support—into alignment. I’ve rewritten my PAD more times than I can count, especially after triggering experiences, because I’ve learned how powerful it is to state clearly what I need before a crisis hits. Creating a PAD has helped me not only stay safe but also stay connected to who I am, even in my hardest moments. Now, I want to help others do the same. If you’re navigating mental health challenges and want to build a plan that supports the practical imagination of frameworking for your own #ThisAbility, I’d love to walk you through what PADs are and how they can support your freedom, safety, and care.

body struggles and self-worth

Ritika D.

There was a time my body felt like a stranger—unpredictable, weak, and disconnected from the version of me I used to know. I wanted to show up in the world like I used to, but chronic fatigue and recurring health issues made even simple things feel exhausting. People would say, “But you look fine!” and I’d smile while quietly spiraling inside. It took time to learn how to befriend my body again. I started listening to it instead of fighting it. I gave myself permission to rest, to say no, and to ask for support—even when it felt uncomfortable.

navigating chronic illness with resilience, self-advocacy, and hope

Holley B.

Living with over 25+ years of TWO invisible chronic illnesses has been a test of both my body and my mental health and spirit. For years, I felt dismissed and gaslit by doctors, misunderstood by those around me, and unheard in a world that often overlooks the complexity of invisible illness. My symptoms were real, but the support was not — and that left me feeling isolated, defeated, and at times, hopeless. But I made a choice: I would become my own best advocate. I researched, I asked hard questions, I pushed back when I was minimized, and I refused to give up on myself. I learned to listen to my body, to speak up in medical appointments, and to build a team that believed me. Balancing these health challenges while parenting, healing from trauma, and staying sober wasn’t easy — but it taught me what true strength looks like. I’ve faced discouragement, flares, and fear. But I’ve also discovered peace through acceptance, connection, and even joy within the struggle. If you’re dealing with chronic illness and feeling unheard, burned out, or alone, I want you to know that you matter. You deserve care, compassion, and hope — and together, we can talk about how to fight for it.

Job interview preparation as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

Job interviews used to make me feel like I had to become someone else just to be taken seriously. I’d spend hours rehearsing ‘the right’ answers, trying to make perfect eye contact, overthinking every gesture, and wondering if I was saying too much—or not enough. I thought that if I could just play the part well enough, I might get through it. But the truth is, I wasn’t just nervous—I was masking. As someone with ADHD and autism, the traditional interview process wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was exhausting. I’d leave interviews feeling like I’d run a marathon… and not in a good way. It felt like I had to prove I was capable despite how my brain works, instead of because of it. Over time, I’ve learned how to prepare in ways that work for me. I’ve practiced advocating for my needs (even when it felt awkward), gotten better at recognizing which environments are actually a good fit, and started owning my strengths instead of trying to hide or over-explain them. Now, I approach interviews with a lot more self-trust and a lot less pressure to be someone I’m not. It doesn’t mean I don’t still get anxious—but I’ve got tools, scripts, and strategies that help me show up authentically and clearly. And you can too.

Living life with ADHD

Rachel C.

I once heard the quote “If you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life thinking it is useless” from a YouTube video I was watching about ADHD and it stuck with me. I was just diagnosed with ADHD this year and am soon going to be tested for autism. Neurodivergence and learning disabilities have made life difficult for me. Over the years I have developed systems, acquired resources, and figured out methods that work for living life with ADHD. It can be frustrating, especially when other people don't understand just how difficult it can be managing life with ADHD or neurodivergence. I always thought I was "stupid" or "useless" because tasks that seemed effortless to other people were difficult for me. But once I was diagnosed with ADHD I felt the relief of finally having my experience validated. So now I hope to provide a judgement free zone to talk about the difficulties of managing the many details of every day life with ADHD for any who need it.

Navigating sobriety as a parent, and dealing with loss and work stress

Stephen M.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

Bipolar disorder let's talk it through

Brandi S.

You are not alone, and together we can find ways to live a full and meaningful life with bipolar disorder. I understand the highs and lows, the confusion and clarity that come with this journey. I'm here to offer a safe, non-judgmental space where you can share your experiences, ask questions, and look into ways to manage your symptoms. We can talk about what it was like to be diagnosed, how to build a routine that supports your well-being, how important it is to take care of yourself, and how to find hope at every step of your recovery.

Striving for a healthier life after recovering from drug and alcohol use

Kevin B.

I started drinking when I was 15, and by the time I was 21, my alcoholism had taken full control of my life. I experimented with many other substances, including marijuana, cocaine, and opioids, which seemed to numb my anxiety and depression. I didn’t realize at the time that the substances were just a temporary escape from the pain. By the time I was 24, I had lost everything—my family’s trust, my friends, and any sense of stability. That was when I knew something had to change. Getting clean wasn’t easy, but I did it all at once, eliminating every substance from my life, including the opioids that had such a hold on me. The road to recovery was tough, but with the support of my family, a 12-step program, and a lot of hard work, I found my way. Now, over 15 years later, I’m proud to say that I’m clean and sober. I’m even working on kicking my final addiction—tobacco—and I’m using patches and lozenges to help me through it. Recovery isn’t just about quitting substances; it’s about rebuilding a life. It’s about finding new ways to deal with anxiety, depression, and the challenges that led me to seek relief in the first place. I know it can be done, and I want to be there for anyone who needs support on their journey.

Exploring holistic wellness as a recovery path from the cycle of anxiety and addiction

Angelo F.

For many years, I turned to alcohol and marijuana to cope with my anxiety. At first, they seemed like a quick fix, but over time, I realized they were only masking the issue, not solving it. I reached a point where I knew I had to find a better way to manage my anxiety without relying on substances that only made things worse. My struggles with anxiety and addiction began early. My parents’ divorce when I was 8 left me feeling isolated and insecure. As a teenager, I turned to substances to numb the anxiety that overwhelmed me. By the time I was 21, alcohol became my crutch. I drank to cope with anxiety, but it only made things worse, leading to lost jobs and damaged relationships. Eventually, I realized I couldn’t keep living this way. I began exploring more holistic ways to manage my anxiety, focusing on rebuilding my self-esteem. The tools that helped me most were rooted in self-love, forgiveness, and mindfulness. Practices like therapeutic art, qigong, and nutrition helped me connect with my body and calm my mind. Today, I’ve rebuilt my life with peace, joy, and self-compassion. I’m committed to helping others do the same, knowing firsthand that healing is possible. With the right tools and support, you can break free from old patterns and create a fulfilling, anxiety-free life.

Managing a "co-occuring" diagnosis of depression and substance abuse

Brian G.

Life and work stresses pushed my lifelong depression and anxiety deeper. I started to self-medicate with alcohol and cannabis and, without knowing it, became dependent on them to escape the mental health symptoms and other stresses. What started as a weekend recreation slowly became a daily use that started to worsen my mental health. The heavier usage began to impact the relationship with my family as I became disconnected and absent. I started to realize that a problem was developing when I tried the apply the brakes on my usage and found myself powerless to do so. My family was unaware and I felt too ashamed to ask for help. The depression continued to build and it became dangerous. I finally broke and reached out to my wonderful wife for help. Long story short, I was admitted to a psych unit where I was diagnosed with "co-occuring" mental health and addiction issues. I have been clean and sober since 12/25/23 and my depression is managed through medication and therapy.

Navigating recovery as a queer BIPOC teen

Skya F.

Growing up as a queer Black girl, I didn’t see anyone who looked like me talking openly about mental health or recovery. From a young age, I struggled with depression, anxiety, PTSD, and ADHD—but I kept it all inside. By 15, I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope with the pain and isolation I felt, especially around my identity and not feeling truly seen. I spiraled quickly, and for a few years, I lost myself. No one really talked about healing in my community, let alone from a place that honored who I was. But when I was 18, I finally reached out for help. Therapy gave me tools, and recovery gave me a new version of myself. I’ve been sober since 2019. Today, I’m passionate about holding space for other queer and BIPOC folks who are trying to heal in a world that often overlooks us. I want you to know that your story matters—and you don’t have to navigate it alone.

Parenting while struggling with addiction and mental health

Julie G.

I became a mom for the first time at 22. I stayed sober during my pregnancy, but after my daughter was born, I went back to using. I thought I had things under control, but deep down I felt isolated and ashamed. When I had my second daughter, I went through postpartum depression that I didn’t fully understand. I believed I was a bad mom and kept those feelings to myself. Over the years, my addiction got worse, and so did my mental health. I hit rock bottom at 40 and ended up in the hospital. That experience was terrifying, but it also opened the door to real help. I was finally connected to a peer who had been through similar struggles, and that made all the difference. Now, with four years of sobriety and a better understanding of my mental health, I want to be that person for someone else. I know what it’s like to parent through pain and to feel like you’re not enough. You’re not alone.

Living alcohol-free with ADHD and Autism

David W.

I discovered alcohol at a young age as a way to cope with what I didn't realize was undiagnosed ADHD and Autism. For years, alcohol masked my overwhelming anxiety and social confusion. I thought I was just broken, unable to understand why I kept returning to alcohol despite my best efforts. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with ADHD and Autism that everything made sense. Finally, understanding how my neurodivergence was at the root of my struggles brought me peace and self-compassion. I stopped seeing myself as broken. The understanding of my brain and my body was transformative, and it became the foundation of my lasting recovery. Now, I’m not only alcohol-free but I’ve also learned how to manage my symptoms in healthier ways. I want to help others who might be struggling with substance use due to undiagnosed neurodivergence and guide them toward a path of understanding, self-compassion, and lasting recovery

Overcoming addiction and breaking free from unhealthy relationships

Andrea B.

When I was in my mid-20s, I found myself in a relationship where my partner hid their marijuana use from me. At first, I didn’t know how to react, but eventually, I was convinced to try it. What started as casual use quickly became an everyday habit before work, during breaks, and after. It was a cycle I didn’t know how to break. I realized how much it was controlling my life, making me feel disconnected and anxious, while keeping me from engaging with my friends and family in a meaningful way. I knew something had to change. So, in 2023, I ended the relationship and decided to stop using marijuana. At first, it was hard, but within a month, I felt a major shift. I became more productive, less anxious, and found myself truly present again. I’ve also had my share of struggles with toxic relationships verbal and physical abuse, unhealthy patterns that broke my self-worth. Therapy helped me regain my confidence, and it was through these painful experiences that I learned the importance of setting boundaries and finding support.

Leaving an abusive relationship and getting sober

Courtney K.

I’ve been through a lot, and my journey has shaped me into someone who is passionate about helping others. After leaving my first marriage, I found myself battling addiction to opiates. I knew I needed to make a change, so I got sober in 2017, but life wasn’t easy after that. I remarried and ended up in another toxic relationship that was emotionally abusive. I struggled deeply with depression and anxiety, which I only realized through therapy. I decided I couldn’t continue living that way, so I made the hard choice to leave and get sober for good. It wasn’t an easy path, but through the process, I’ve reclaimed my life and learned so much about myself. I now co-run a sober women’s group with over 30,000 members across the world, and I’m here to offer a nonjudgmental, compassionate ear to anyone struggling with similar challenges.

Navigating anxious relationships and building emotional safety

Megan S.

In my twenties, I found myself trapped in a cycle of anxious-avoidant relationships that left me feeling constantly unsettled. I bounced between messy breakups and even messier reconciliations, each time hoping things would finally click. On top of that, I was battling severe anxiety, panic attacks, and long-standing issues with body image and self-esteem. It felt like every area of my life was a pressure cooker. At one point, even my professional relationships started mirroring the same unhealthy patterns I saw in romance. I didn’t magically wake up healed one day (wouldn’t that be nice?), but little by little, I learned how to regulate my nervous system, set real boundaries, and listen to my true needs not just my fears. Through therapies like Attachment Theory and Internal Family Systems work, plus some brutally honest self-reflection, I found a path forward. Now, I’m passionate about being a safe, steady space for others trying to break free from anxious relationship loops. Whether you're fresh out of a breakup, stuck in confusion, or just craving healthier connections, I’m here to help you feel grounded, understood, and equipped with real tools not just pep talks.

Shifting focus from weight and appearance to energy and self-care

Carrie M.

For most of my life, my relationship with food, movement, and my body was driven by control and perfectionism. I believed that “being healthy” meant following rigid rules—counting calories, exercising to earn rest, and chasing a body that was never quite good enough. Every mirror check or skipped workout became a referendum on my worth. I wasn’t trying to feel better; I was trying to be better—according to someone else’s idea of what health and success looked like. But over time, that constant pressure began to unravel me. I was physically exhausted, emotionally disconnected, and mentally consumed by numbers and body image. I realized that I had been using routines to mask deeper discomfort—avoiding stillness, shame, and the fear of not being enough if I let go. The turning point came when I started listening to my body instead of managing it like a project. I learned to move for joy, to eat with presence, and to rest without guilt. Now, I define health more holistically: it’s about feeling at home in myself, not fixing myself. It’s honoring my needs, not overriding them. It’s recognizing that my body is not a problem to solve but a partner to care for. If you’ve ever felt trapped in cycles of “shoulds” around your weight or routines, you’re not alone—and there’s another way forward.

Breaking body shame cycles as a neurodivergent parent

Zaynah M.

For most of my life, body shame controlled my narrative. As an autistic and ADHD person, I was constantly told that my body was too much, too loud, too sensitive, too different. These messages followed me through my struggles with PCOS, infertility, an eating disorder, and a constant battle with my body image. I carried that shame deep into adulthood, believing I had to change myself to be accepted. When I became a parent, those feelings came rushing back. I feared passing this shame onto my child, that they would inherit my struggles with self-worth and body image. But I knew I had to break the cycle. I dove into my recovery, focusing on body trust and learning how to love and respect my body, even when it felt hard. I became a Certified Body Trust® Specialist, determined to raise my child in a space free from body shame. Now, I help other parents do the same; create a home where bodies are celebrated, not controlled. It’s not always perfect, but it’s real, and it’s a journey I’m proud to be on.

Recovering from cocaine and alcohol addiction after relapse

Sofia V.

From 2016 to 2018, I was using cocaine, alcohol, and Vyvanse almost daily. It began as a way to boost my confidence and manage my eating disorder, but quickly took over my life. My relationships with friends and family unraveled, and I felt completely disconnected from who I was. Rehab was a turning point, though it wasn’t smooth—I slipped up in 2020, during one of the hardest moments of my recovery. But that relapse actually woke something up in me. I realized those substances didn’t offer me anything anymore. I wanted more for my life. Since then, I’ve poured my energy into creating a life I want to be fully present in. That’s meant building up my recovery capital—things like skiing, playing music, journaling, breathing deeply, and nurturing real, supportive relationships. I even quit smoking after nearly a decade because I wanted to sing again. I’m a Certified Peer Specialist and Recovery Coach now, and I’d be honored to walk alongside you as you rebuild your life, too—one step at a time.

Navigating recovery from eating disorders and addiction

Lexi O.

I’m someone who has walked the tough path of recovery, dealing with challenges related to eating disorders (OSFED with anorexic and AFRID tendencies), addiction (including cocaine, Xanax, and marijuana), and mental health struggles like depression, anxiety, PTSD, and OCD. I’ve spent the last two years in recovery, learning how to build a healthier relationship with myself and others. Along the way, I also navigated emotional and verbal abuse, which made my journey even more complex. My goal now is to help others who are facing similar battles, whether it's with eating disorders, addiction, or difficult relationships. I’m here to offer support, share my story, and remind you that recovery is possible—even when it feels impossible.

Supporting moms through eating disorders and military life challenges

Kate D.

As a mom of three and a military wife of 24 years, I’ve faced many challenges—particularly the isolation of raising small children during deployments and navigating military life without a nearby support base. But my journey hasn’t just been about the struggles of military life; I’ve also battled a 35-year-long eating disorder, beginning in my teens. Through therapy, medication, and, most importantly, by opening up and sharing my story, I was able to begin the path to healing. Along the way, I’ve supported others struggling with eating disorders, and have been there for close friends who’ve shared similar battles. I understand the power of someone who truly “gets it” when it comes to the dark moments we face.

Quitting alcohol after years of on-and-off drinking

Louise H.

I started struggling with anorexia, OCD, depression, and anxiety as a teenager, which led me to outpatient and inpatient treatment before college. Drinking entered my life around 19 or 20 and, at first, it felt like it helped ease my eating issues and anxiety. I didn’t see myself as having a problem, even when I dropped out of college after two years. Through my twenties and thirties, alcohol became a crutch I would return to, especially when life got overwhelming. Being a stay-at-home mom in a place I didn’t love, feeling isolated and stuck, made things worse. By 2016, my drinking was out of control again and my mental health was spiraling. In 2019, after a move to Florida and a month of drinking alone, I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I was done. I got sober that May and have stayed sober ever since. Art, writing, and connecting with others in recovery have helped me heal. Today, I lead a large online sobriety support group and love helping others find their way to a better life too.

Managing a gluten-free diet for yourself or your family

Roslyn D.

As a dietitian, I have extensive experience working with individuals and families to adapt to a gluten-free lifestyle, particularly for those managing Celiac Disease. When my adult daughter was diagnosed with Celiac, it was a challenging transition for our entire family, especially when it came to meal planning and adjusting to new eating habits. I’ve also supported my granddaughter, who has sensory food issues, in navigating her dietary restrictions. Through these experiences, I’ve developed a deep understanding of the emotional and logistical challenges that come with living gluten-free, especially when it’s a necessity for health. I can help you navigate the complexities of maintaining a balanced diet, find safe food options, and manage the day-to-day challenges of adhering to a gluten-free lifestyle, whether for yourself, your child, or a loved one.

navigating grad school or a full time job with a newborn

Celeste G.

I was working on first a Masters, and then a Doctorate in mathematics when my first two daughters were born. Then when I got my first full time job, I gave birth to my son shortly afterwards. I only took a week to recover from labor with each of my daughters so that I didn’t get behind on my grad school classes. I also wasn’t willing to sacrifice my ability to breastfeed my little ones, so I either met up with my husband in between classes to feed my babies, or I learned to pump while at work. I understand the exhaustion that comes with having newborns and still working hard every day. Because of sleepless nights getting up to take care of a crying child, I fell asleep in class a few times, but I learned to lean on other people to help support me through this difficult time. I also learned a lot of tricks for working with a baby in my arms or in a seat nearby. My kids are all older now, my youngest is 5 years old, but I have a thriving career.

rebuilding your career and reskilling after getting sober

Holley B.

Sobriety truly gave me a second chance at life — but it also meant starting over in ways I never expected. After years of fight or flight, freeze, survival mode, and trauma my confidence was shattered. My work history was full of gaps, or roles I had outgrown. I wasn’t sure where I fit anymore — or if anyone would give me a chance. But I decided I was worth investing in. I explored new paths, took classes, asked questions, and learned how to talk about my past with strength instead of shame. I focused on reskilling — not just professionally, but emotionally and mentally, too. Every step I took helped rebuild the belief that I could contribute, succeed, and even thrive. Whether you’re restarting a career, going back to school, or dreaming about something totally new — I get it. You don’t have to figure it all out at once. I’d love to help you explore what’s next and show you that sobriety is not the end of your potential — it’s the beginning.

Boundaries, balance, and belonging

Anjelika marin A.

Some days you're handling responsibilities like a pro, and other days you're crying into a burrito wondering if everyone else got the secret handbook for adulthood. (Spoiler: they didn’t.) Whether you're navigating school, work, hormones that forgot how to chill, or trying to set boundaries without sounding like a villain, I’ve been there. I’ve felt the weight of imposter syndrome whispering, “You’re not enough,” even while doing the absolute most. I’ve worked jobs where boundaries were more like suggestions and gone through life transitions that made me question everything including my ability to keep a houseplant alive. Through all of that, I learned something important: healing isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about having a safe space to be real. This a no-judgment, come-as-you-are kind of space where you can talk about the hard stuff, the awkward stuff, the “is it just me?” stuff and realize it’s definitely not just you. Let’s talk for real and probably laugh a little.

Starting over after finding freedom from addiction

Bridgette D.

In 2007, I walked into a year-long drug and alcohol treatment center, not knowing what my future would hold. I had spent years lost in addiction, with methamphetamine pulling me into some of the darkest moments of my life. My path to that treatment center wasn’t easy—I had started using drugs and alcohol at just 13, growing up in a home where addiction was a part of daily life. By my twenties and thirties, addiction had taken full control, leading to legal troubles and, ultimately, jail. That year in treatment was a turning point. It gave me not just sobriety, but clarity. I learned that addiction wasn’t my identity, and my past didn’t have to define me. I found strength in recovery and, for the first time, truly believed that a different life was possible. That belief pushed me forward. I went to college at 43, became a licensed drug and alcohol counselor, and have spent the past eight years helping others find their own path to healing. I know what it feels like to believe there’s no way out. I know the fear of starting over. And I also know that recovery is real. Whether you’re just beginning your journey or struggling with staying on track, I’d love to walk alongside you and remind you that there’s hope, healing, and a future beyond addiction.

Getting sober after your marriage ended because of addiction

Benjamin H.

I’ve struggled with substances most of my life. It started with a prescription for Adderall when I was a kid, then escalated through high school and college—marijuana, cocaine, opiates. I got married and tried to pull things together, but the truth is, I developed an addiction to opiates during that time. Toward the end of our 11-year marriage, my wife confronted me about it. I wasn’t willing to stop, and that choice ultimately ended the relationship. That loss forced me to take a hard look at my life. I checked myself into detox and rehab, and something finally shifted. After a brutal first month of withdrawal, I felt clear for the first time in years. I started using therapy seriously, leaned on the people who believed in me, and began rebuilding. Now I’m back in school, working toward a counseling license so I can support others who are walking a similar path. If you’re sitting with the grief and guilt of losing someone because of your addiction, I’ve been there—and I’d be glad to talk with you.

Managing anxiety and raising kids with ADHD and Autism

Alicia F.

I’m a divorced mother of five, currently raising my children with my partner. I live with anxiety, depression, and a major heart condition, which makes daily life both rewarding and challenging. My family also includes a child diagnosed with ADHD and several others who show signs of ADHD and Autism, making parenting an ongoing learning process. I’ve been through the tough experiences of infertility, pregnancy, and being a NICU mom, and I’ve learned to navigate the complexities of both single and co-parenting. My past includes being married to someone struggling with addiction and alcoholism, which further shaped my understanding of the importance of emotional resilience. Professionally, I work in the Emergency Services for Mental Health, and I’m also going back to school to finish my degree. My partner and I are building a homestead together, and though I consider myself a bit of a hippie at heart, I’m incredibly passionate about being helpful, whether that’s through hobbies like knitting, crocheting, or storytelling. Life is never simple, but I’ve learned that with the right mindset and tools, even the toughest challenges can be faced with grace and growth.

Navigating academic or behavioral challenges with your school-aged child

Rebecca F.

As a special education teacher, I've worked closely with students who have both emotional and learning disabilities, each presenting their own unique set of needs. I see firsthand how emotional challenges like anxiety, trauma, or behavioral struggles often overlap with difficulties in reading, writing, or processing information. Every day, I focus on building strong, trusting relationships with my students while creating structured routines and individualized supports that help them feel safe and successful. I collaborate with counselors, behavior specialists, and other educators to ensure that each student receives the emotional and academic tools they need to thrive. Navigating these challenges also meant working closely with parents, many of whom were overwhelmed or unsure of how to advocate for their child. Through my experience, I’ve come to understand how isolating and confusing this journey can be for families. I made it a priority to listen without judgment, offer practical strategies, and help parents interpret IEPs, behavior plans, and progress reports in ways that made sense. I learned to become not only an educator for their child but also a bridge—connecting home and school with empathy and clarity. I want to use that experience to support other parents, helping them feel more empowered, informed, and hopeful as they walk alongside their children.

Rediscovering your confidence after infidelity

Sherise P.

I know how tough relationships can be, having experienced both infidelity and an abusive relationship in the past. Growing up in Chicago, I also faced a rough childhood, and I've had to navigate deep losses, including the recent passing of my mom and grandma. These experiences taught me invaluable lessons about the importance of setting boundaries, seeking support, and finding inner strength during the toughest times. Despite everything, I’m determined to keep moving forward, and I’m about to start school to become a medical assistant. Through it all, I’ve learned how important it is to rebuild confidence after heartbreak and to communicate openly in relationships. I’m here to offer the same empathy and care to others who are struggling with similar challenges. I’d love to support you as you heal, regain your strength, and move forward with confidence.

Navigating family dynamics and finding your voice

Dion P.

I grew up in a world where I had to figure out my place early. My mom had me at 15, and my grandmother raised me with love and resilience. As I got older, I realized that building healthy relationships with my parents and extended family meant learning how to set boundaries and communicate my needs — even when it was uncomfortable. Being the first in my family to go to college, I carried the weight of expectations and sometimes the sting of judgment. Through studying psychology, working with my own therapist, and stepping into leadership roles, I learned how to build a support system and honor my own growth. As a Black man in America, I know the importance of finding your voice and believing you belong in every room you step into. Today, as a life coach, I help others navigate tough family conversations, set boundaries, and build a life they can be proud of — because everyone deserves to feel heard, valued, and supported.

Parenting after surviving abuse

Mary K.

When I became a mother, I had already survived more trauma than most people face in a lifetime: childhood abuse, a deeply abusive marriage, and experiences of sexual assault that led to the births of my children. I didn’t have emotional support from my husband or family, and raising my newborn alone was a crash course in resilience. At times, I felt like I was learning how to nurture while still healing my own wounds. But I made a promise to myself and my children that the cycle of harm would stop with me. I threw myself into studying pregnancy and child development, sometimes for hours a day, and found comfort in the structure and security of routines. My kids began to thrive, and so did I. My journey wasn’t about pretending everything was fine; it was about building something healthy and joyful from the ground up, even with shaky tools. Now, parenting isn’t just something I do it’s how I rewrite my story and teach my children they are safe, loved, and powerful.

Anger, turns out I wasn't just feisty

Kari K.

I used to shove my anger down until it exploded - or leaded out sideways in sarcasm and sass. I'll share how I learned to name anger, sit with it, and learn something instead of torching every one in site. Spoiler: breathing DOES help - but so does swearing into a pillow.

how a Psychiatric Advanced Directive (PAD) can help you advocate for yourself

Tim G.

I spent two years of my young adulthood in and out of psychiatric hospitals, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. During that time, I felt swallowed by depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of painful relationships that left me unsure if I’d ever feel free again. I was constantly cycling through crisis, often misunderstood, and sometimes silenced in the very systems that were supposed to help. Then I discovered Psychiatric Advanced Directives (PADs), and everything started to shift. I’ve used PADs to express my wishes, protect my rights, and bring my care team—my psychologist, naturopath, even legal support—into alignment. I’ve rewritten my PAD more times than I can count, especially after triggering experiences, because I’ve learned how powerful it is to state clearly what I need before a crisis hits. Creating a PAD has helped me not only stay safe but also stay connected to who I am, even in my hardest moments. Now, I want to help others do the same. If you’re navigating mental health challenges and want to build a plan that supports the practical imagination of frameworking for your own #ThisAbility, I’d love to walk you through what PADs are and how they can support your freedom, safety, and care.

Coming out later in life

Brianna F.

I grew up in a conservative Catholic community where exploring my identity wasn't an option. I married twice to men and lived much of my early adulthood according to expectations that never truly fit. It wasn't until later, through a lot of therapy and personal work, that I realized I was a lesbian. Coming out wasn't easy—it meant redefining my relationships, facing family expectations, and learning to live more authentically. I’m now happily married to a woman and raising our beautiful five-year-old daughter, with a lot of pride in the journey it took to get here. Therapy, supportive friendships, and staying committed to my mental health helped me embrace who I am. I've helped others find the courage to live authentically too, whether it’s young LGBTQ+ coworkers facing unsupportive environments or friends making life-changing decisions. I would be honored to be a listening ear for anyone navigating the complex and emotional path of coming out later in life.

finding wisdom in the fire of anger

Jake A.

For a long time, I didn’t know what to do with my anger. I either buried it until I went numb or let it erupt in ways that caused harm mostly to the people I cared about and, often, to myself. I’ve felt the shame of being “too much,” and the loneliness that comes from not knowing how to express what’s really going on underneath it all. Anger used to feel like something I had to fix or silence. But over time, I’ve learned that anger isn’t the enemy, it’s a signal. It often shows up when something important has been ignored, crossed, or abandoned. Through therapy, body awareness, and some hard lessons in love, fatherhood, and life, I’ve learned to listen to anger instead of fear it. I’ve practiced feeling it without acting on it, giving it language without letting it run the show. What I’ve found is that there’s often grief, pain, and deep care underneath the rage and when I meet it with curiosity, it actually brings me closer to myself and to others. These days, I’m not perfect, but I’m more honest, more grounded, and less reactive. If your anger feels like too much or not enough, I’d love to sit with you in it. Not to fix it, but to help you hear what it’s really saying.

Using creativity as a catalyst for change with art therapy and nature-based activities

Angelo F.

During my healing journey, there were moments when words just weren’t enough. I needed something deeper—something that could express what I couldn’t say, process what I couldn’t name, and bring beauty into the parts of me that still felt broken. That’s when creativity became my medicine. Through therapeutic art and connecting with nature, I found a way to transform pain into purpose. Singing, drawing, cooking healthy meals, writing, walking in nature—all of it became a sacred release, a return to my authentic self. I discovered that you don’t need to be an artist to heal through creativity—you just need to be willing to express yourself in new ways, even if you are an artist. These practices continue to support my emotional wellbeing, reduce anxiety, and help me stay grounded. I now guide others to reconnect with their inner child, tap into their intuitive voice, and use creativity as a bridge to deep transformation.

Insomnia as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

There were nights where I just couldn’t sleep—and not because I wasn’t tired. I was exhausted. But my brain wouldn’t shut off, my body felt wired, and everything I tried—breathing exercises, screen limits, sleepy teas—just didn’t cut it. For me, insomnia isn’t just about stress or bad habits. It’s tied to both my neurodivergence and PMDD. There’s a specific kind of sleeplessness that comes when your hormones are swinging wildly and your sensory sensitivity is through the roof. Add in ADHD brain, autistic burnout, or emotional dysregulation—and yeah, no wonder I couldn’t sleep. The worst part? Knowing I needed rest to function the next day, but feeling powerless to make it happen. I’d beat myself up, spiral into anxiety, and feel like I was failing at something that’s supposed to be automatic. What changed things wasn’t a magic solution—it was giving myself compassion and building a more flexible relationship with sleep. I started tracking patterns in my cycle, learning what my body needed at different times of the month, and creating routines that supported my nervous system, not fought against it. Some nights are still rough. But now I know how to care for myself when it happens—and I no longer treat it like a personal flaw. If you’re navigating insomnia tied to PMDD, neurodivergence, or both, I get it. It’s frustrating and lonely, but you’re not broken—and you don’t have to go through it alone.

Navigating grief and rebuilding self-worth after losing a friend

MacKenzie C.

When I was in college, I lost a close friend to suicide during the height of the pandemic. The shock of it, combined with the loneliness of that time, hit me harder than I could have imagined. I was eventually diagnosed with major depression and felt completely stuck, questioning my own worth and purpose. Over the past five years, I’ve poured myself into healing, studying psychology, and creating self-regulation tools to move through sadness, anger, and guilt. I learned to honor my friend's memory without letting grief define me. I also worked to rebuild my confidence, leaving behind toxic relationships and embracing sobriety in 2021. Through all of this, I realized how powerful it is to have someone walk with you through healing. Now, as a life coach and mentor, I’m passionate about helping others find their footing again after loss.

Parenting with compassion and creating a stress free environment for your children

Vicky K.

Ever since I was a child, my dream was to be a stay-at-home mom. When I finally had kids, I loved them deeply, but I quickly realized parenting was much tougher than I had imagined. I carried high expectations into motherhood, shaped by a culture where achievements were praised and kids were often compared to others. I expected a lot from my children and, without meaning to, placed a heavy burden on them. This led to frustration, tension, and a lot of anger that I didn’t know how to manage at first. Over time, through self-reflection and a real desire to change, I learned to recognize the harm my anger was causing and worked hard to rebuild trust and connection with my kids. Our relationships are so much stronger now, and I am grateful every day for the second chance I created by showing up differently. I’d love to walk alongside anyone else who wants to repair and strengthen their bond with their children.

about how anger manifests in your behavior

Sandy P.

But first, let me explain how it manifests for me. There's the obvious: I see or hear what I don't like and there's an immediate surge of energy from the gut. I feel like cursing, or striking out, or if in public, I want to ignore or hide from it. I struggle with competing desires: lose control or pretend it didn't happen. When I was a child, when my anger was prohibited, I would burst into tears and get ridiculed for it. And guess what!! It can happen to me today, many years later. I freeze up. There's a voice that says girl anger is not OK. Be NICE! says that insidious voice back in my mind. Sometimes, anger doesn't reveal itself through overt actions or impulses. For me, it can simmer beneath the surface and erupt at inappropriate times. Maybe it comes out as sneaky, passive resistance, or a biting comment or an icy silence. My internal struggle can be exhausting. Sometimes when it gets the best of me, I end up looking foolish. Then other times the anger morphs into something entirely different like anxiety or sadness or fear. It becomes a tangled web of emotions that are hard to identify and address. I find myself too sleepy, or agitated, roaming the house, raiding the refrigerator. While here at Fello we're not in the business of psychoanalyzing behavior, developing awareness of our inner workings is a good option for taking control of strong emotions that often work to our detriment. For me, they cause insomnia and overeating. Recognizing these patterns and trigger points within myself was my first step toward understanding and managing my anger. Understanding is crucial for personal growth and maintaining healthy relationships. By understanding myself a little bit better, I can better navigate these feelings and respond in ways that are constructive rather than destructive. It's such a relief to start having mastery over what can seem like a big, out of control monster!

Finding your way out of toxic relationships

Amanda P.

Growing up, I always struggled with making and maintaining healthy connections, whether it was with friends, family, or romantic partners. I often felt isolated and lonely, which took a toll on my mental health and led to depression, anxiety, and toxic mindsets that shaped how I saw myself and others. Things began to shift when I started consistently attending therapy, especially Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). It taught me practical skills for emotional regulation, setting boundaries, and understanding my own worth. I also watched people close to me, like my sister, go through harmful relationships, and I became someone they leaned on for support. It wasn’t always easy, but helping others through their healing helped me heal, too. Today, I’m proud of the deep connections I’ve built and the life I’ve created. I know firsthand how overwhelming it can feel when you're stuck in unhealthy relationships, but I also know there’s a way out—and I’d love to help you find it.

about unexpected job loss

Jessica B.

I had worked with the same company for 25 years. The Owner decided to retire and close the company. Suddenly, I realized my future where I thought I would continue working until retiring was closing the doors. I had been with this company since I was in my 20s. What am I going to do? How can I restart? I have no idea. Anxiety and stress consumed me. All day I only thought about the "what's next" and "starting over". It had been years since I went to school or learned anything knew. The world was more advanced than I was and how could I catch up? I was not sleeping. I was having physical symptoms from the stress. I had been the breadwinner of my family, how can I let them down? The guilt of not continuing to promote myself through the years and the fact that I had put all my eggs in one basket was heavy. It was a heavy burden to carry around and carrying it alone wanted to make me give up. How can I reinvent myself? What if no company wants me? Financially, I was watching the money in the accounts get smaller and smaller. I didn't just want a paycheck, but a career. Ever step forward, felt like a step back. I had a good career, high up in the company and now to start over is scary, isolating, insignificant, ashamed.

Compassion fatigue my empathy got evicted

Kari K.

Helping people is... holy. But holy moly, sometimes you hit the wall. I'll share how I recognized my own compassion fatigue, why burnout looks different for caregivers, and what I do now to keep my heart soft without letting it leak all over the carpet.

the break-up of your family

Ashley F.

In January of 2022, I was 8 months pregnant with my son, Joseph. On January 04, my husband and I separated. I dove into the most intense depression I've ever experienced; I stayed in bed during the day with my phone beside me waiting for it to ring with the news that I could come back home. I lost all excitement for motherhood. When my parents arrived home after work, I would get out of bed, trying to put on a fascade of some semblance of happiness. I would eat dinner, stay up for a few more hours, then crawl back into bed anywhere from 7:30 to 8 PM. A week or so after the separation began, I started working through a devotional book called "Broken Heart On Hold." I don't recall the author, but it was a devotional for women going through an unwanted separation from their husbands. Two of those devotionals stand out to me, and if it weren't for them, I may not have made it. The first one told me to visually "look up into the face of God instead of down into the abyss of your pain." And I did. When the pain felt like it would consume me, I would actually tilt my head upward while imagining the face of God. The second devotional that stood out to me told me to imagine my husband, myself, and Jesus standing in a meadow. I would then imagine taking the pieces of my broken heart out of my husband's hands and placing them into the hands of Jesus. Again, when the pain threatened to consume me, I would visualize this. My excitement for motherhood began to return when my OB gave me the news that I was dilating. That's when it hit me. This was happening. I was having a baby! I wanted this baby. I knew that I would do my best to raise him to the best of my ability. I would be okay. And I am okay! I was awarded sole custody of my sweet, precious baby boy, and I am now about to marry a man who has shown me a fierce, true form of love that I've never experienced before. He loves my son as his own, and my son adores him. I made it. I survived. If it weren't for Jesus, I may not have made it. But I did. And you can, too.

about family conflicts

Ashley F.

For years, I have walked through and withstood constant conflict, misunderstanding, criticism, and an unhealthy home environment when it comes to my relationship with my mother. There is a nearly impenetrable wall of hurt, rejection, and misunderstanding between us. I truly understand the feeling of desperation and being trapped in your own home, dreading times when someone will be walking through the door because you don't know what mood they're in. I know the feeling of desperately trying to keep emotion bottled up inside so you don't lash out at the person, whether it be verbally or emotionally. And oh how I know the frustration of someone denying that things have happened when you know for a fact that they have. Have you heard of the five love languages? They are: acts of service, quality time, physical touch, gift giving, and words of affirmation. Our primary way of feeling loved typically happens when the other person speaks our love language. This doesn't happen between my mother and I. Whether it's because I'm adopted or she truly doesn't understand, I don't feel loved. Sure, my family has always provided for me. However, my top two love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. Our personalities clash. She's not affectionate, she's an introvert, and she feels the need for perfection. I'm the exact opposite. Can you relate? Do you need to feel heard, understood, validated, appreciated for your strengths, etc? Let's chat. I can imagine how you feel, and I would love to provide you with a safe space for you to relax, breathe, vent, cry, or whatever it is that you need in that conflict

about overthinking

Christine D.

I’ve spent way too many nights trying to fall asleep with a brain that insists on replaying that one awkward moment from three years ago or analyzing every possible outcome of a decision I haven’t even made yet. Sound familiar? Overthinking can look like productivity on the outside like you’re being thorough or responsible. But on the inside? It’s often anxiety wearing a clever disguise. It’s fear of failure, fear of regret, fear of what people will think. And it can leave you stuck in loops: what if I mess up? What if I’m too much? What if I’m not enough? I used to think I just needed to “think my way out” of feeling overwhelmed. But that strategy kept me spinning. What actually helped was learning how to name what I was feeling underneath all the thoughts, to pause the mental ping-pong match, and to stop treating myself like a problem to be solved. If your mind is constantly racing, if you’re tired of second-guessing yourself into paralysis, or if you just want someone to help you sort through the noise—I'm your girl.

Navigating life after a breast cancer diagnosis

Kelly S.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of 2022, everything changed—fast. I was in graduate nursing school, still teaching, and actively working as an RN during the tail-end of the pandemic. Suddenly, I had to step away from all of it. The diagnosis was overwhelming, and facing a left breast mastectomy was something I couldn’t have imagined just months earlier. The recovery was not just physical—it shook me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I leaned hard into therapy, dug deep into self-reflection, and began reconstructing my life from a place of compassion and clarity. Now, over two years cancer-free, I’m focused on building something new as a nurse entrepreneur and advocate. I don’t pretend it was easy—it wasn’t. But I learned how to show up for myself in a way I never had before. If you’re facing a diagnosis, in treatment, or just coming out the other side, I’d be honored to hold space for you. You don’t have to go through it alone.

Navigating the challenges of raising children with mental health struggles (learning differences, anxiety, and depression)

Katye S.

As a mom of three, I know firsthand the complexities of raising kids in today’s world, especially when mental health struggles are part of the journey. My kids have faced a range of challenges, including learning differences, anxiety, and depression. One of my children was severely impacted by bullying, which led to mood disruptions and a lot of pain. The pandemic and the rise of technology have only added to the isolation they feel. It can be a scary place, not knowing where to turn for support or understanding. I’ve watched my children struggle, but I’ve also seen them make progress. It’s not easy, but I’ve learned the importance of leaning on the right resources—behavioral therapy, support from family and friends—and the power of connection. I’ve also supported a dear friend through her own challenges with her children, offering a safe space for her to talk openly about her situation. It helped her feel less alone, knowing others were going through similar struggles. Now, I want to provide that same kind of support to others who are navigating the often tough and isolating road of parenting kids with mental health challenges.

surviving life with complex PTSD

Adley H.

Living with complex PTSD has shaped every corner of my life. It’s not just about past trauma. It’s the way my body stays braced for disaster, even in calm moments. It’s how I shrink myself to make others comfortable, how certain words or looks send me spiraling without warning, and how hard it is to trust that safety can last. C-PTSD is a landscape of emotional flashbacks, shame spirals, people-pleasing, and a constant undercurrent of “something’s wrong with me.” But I’ve come to understand that these responses were never weaknesses. They were how I survived. It took years to stop blaming myself. To stop thinking I was broken. Through therapy, inner work, and brutal honesty, I’ve slowly learned how to come home to myself. I still carry the echoes, but I also carry tools, compassion, and the ability to hold space for others walking this path. I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to sit with you in it.

surviving life with depression

Adley H.

Depression has been a silent shadow in my life. Sometimes heavy, sometimes barely visible, but always there. It’s the weight in my chest, the fog in my mind, the ache in my bones. It’s the exhaustion that sleep won’t fix, and the hollow feeling even when everything should feel okay. It’s more than sadness. It’s numbness. It’s guilt for not being able to “snap out of it.” It’s the quiet wondering if you’re ever going to feel like yourself again, or if you ever did. But here’s what I know now. Depression lies. It tells you you’re lazy, unlovable, or broken. But none of that is true. Through years of unraveling shame, surviving bad days, and holding on by the thinnest threads, I’ve come to know depression intimately. Not as a moral failure, but as a wound in need of care. If you’re tired, if you’re hurting, if you’re barely hanging on, I get it. I’m not here to push you toward false positivity. I’m here to sit with you in the real.

healing from anger issues

Celeste G.

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.

Rediscovering your identity after motherhood

Sami C.

For years, my identity was wrapped up in being “Mom.” I loved raising my two kids—and still do—but I reached a point where I barely recognized myself outside of who I was for them. As they grew more independent and eventually left for college, I had to rediscover what brought me joy, what dreams I had set aside, and who I was apart from parenting. That journey included grief, growth, and learning to give myself permission to dream again. Now, I help other women reconnect with their passions, purpose, and confidence—even while still being great moms.

Parenting adult children and LGBTQIA+ parent

Leslie C.

Parenting doesn’t end when children grow up—it transforms. For parents of adult children, especially those who are empty nesters or have LGBTQIA+ children, this phase of life is filled with new challenges and deeper opportunities for connection. This unique stage invites reflection, redefinition of roles, and a renewal of the parent-child relationship grounded in respect, openness, and love. Whether you're adjusting to a quieter home, learning to communicate with your adult children as equals, or embracing and supporting your LGBTQIA+ child’s authentic identity, this journey can be deeply rewarding. This profile supports parents in building bridges, letting go of control, and nurturing lifelong bonds with compassion and grace.

becoming an empty nester

Sunny H.

The summer before my last kid started his Senior Year of high school, I started making plans for my next phase of life. I understood that my parenting role was going to change significantly, my available time would increase, my husband and I would be together much more, and I had an opportunity to be just me again. Nothing goes as planned :) My dad got sick. I took on physical support of my dad (appointments, meals, etc ...) and emotional support of my mom. My kids came home -- ALOT. My parents were our primary daycare, so my kids are especially close to their grandparents. They spent their time visiting hospital rooms. My husband got grouchy. He really missed the kids and due to his own health challenges, couldn't return to his previous interests as easily as I could (softball, playing in a rock band, etc ...) But I was determined to learn about me again and build a future even in present chaos. That included journaling, counseling, reconnecting to friends, taking a class, trying new things, and basically BEING BRAVE !

Navigating the ups and downs of parenting through all stages

Kathy G.

I’ve spent years as a mother of three adult children and grandmother to three beautiful grandkids. From managing my husband’s chronic health challenges to guiding my kids through their own personal struggles, bullying, and the tough transitions of school, I’ve been through the full spectrum of parenting experiences. Balancing being both a part-time working parent and a full-time mom, I’ve learned how to be present while also finding time for myself. The hardest part of parenting has been learning to let go as my kids grew up, all while staying deeply connected. Today, we have a close-knit family, and I’ve found that even though they’re adults now, the bond we share continues to be strong. My goal is to offer support and wisdom from the many years of navigating parenting’s tough moments, especially when it comes to transitions, letting go, and staying connected to your children through all the stages of life.

strategies for dealing with toxic adult children

Sandy P.

I have two adult children, both approaching retirement age, who still blame and resent me as a mother. The younger son cut me off in 2003; contact with the older son is often unsatisfying. The former I've come to accept; with the latter, I continue to have hope. For years, I felt sad and envious of the relationships my friends had with their children. I thought if I just said it this way or didn't do that that we'd progress. I listened and listened and listened to abusive tirades thinking sooner or later he'd "run out of steam!" It only got worse. Now, while I understand how they could feel betrayed using the perfect mother model, I no longer accept the perfect mother standard. I finally understood that past mistakes don't define me today. I was being unrealistic in the present. And once I "got it" things improved, and I felt better. The first big step was to stop listening to the complaints and accusations. There are many ways to do that. The one I initially chose was to softly say "I'm going to hang up now" and then gently disconnect! Perhaps shocking, but it worked. Today when the conversation starts to go sideways, we stop, take a breath, and either get back on track or mutually agree to bring it to a close without acrimony. Once I got clear on my boundaries, his behavior improved. It's been a long journey. There are still missteps. But to me it feels like success. I have more tools to work with now. I'm not as angry either. I have hope and a certain feeling of satisfaction. How about you? If you are ready to get off that toxic treadmill, join me for conversation about what you want and the steps to get you there.

Healing from codependency and finding self-love

Lindsay H.

Growing up in a home with an alcoholic father and a narcissistic mother, I struggled with anxiety, eating disorders, and codependency. As the oldest of three children, I spent years abandoning myself in search of love and validation from others. Through my healing journey, I learned how to reconnect with and love my inner child. This process involved setting healthy boundaries, addressing buried anger, and practicing self-compassion. As a divorced mother of two grown sons, I have not only navigated the challenges of single parenting but also built a successful business while doing so. Now, as an empty nester, I’m excited to share the wisdom and tools that helped me heal with others. I believe that self-love and self-acceptance are essential to living a fulfilling life, and I’m passionate about helping others discover that love within themselves.

Parenting, identity, and life transitions

Jodi H.

Coming out at 28 and building a life with a same-sex partner took courage, patience, and a deep sense of purpose. Over three decades later, that partnership is still going strong—with two grown children, a loving home, and a lot of wisdom gained along the way. With 25 years as a school counselor, there’s firsthand insight into the challenges people face around identity, parenting, family conflict, loss, and the big transitions that define us—like becoming a parent, starting a career, or retiring. This is someone who understands what it means to raise children in a non-traditional family, to help others navigate their coming-out journeys, and to walk beside people as they step into new phases of life. Whether you're trying to build a life that reflects who you are, support your kids through change, or simply find your footing again, you're not alone.

Financial disagreements when love and money throw punches

Kari K.

Money is never just money. I've learned this through marriage, divorce, and building a business. I'll share how I've navigated tension, set boundaries, and made peace with being the one who has to talk about the budget first - without losing my mind or my dignity.

your business or idea without the pressure

Christine D.

If you’ve ever had an idea that won’t leave you alone—or you’re building something that feels both exciting and overwhelming—I see you. Being an entrepreneur isn’t all pitch decks and perfect branding. Sometimes, it’s late nights, self-doubt, and wondering if you’re the only one who still hasn’t figured it out. I’ve been there—spiraling on ten different directions, unsure which idea to follow, second-guessing launches, and wondering if I’m doing too much or not enough. I’ve felt the high of a creative breakthrough—and the crash when things didn’t go as planned. But I’ve also learned how powerful it is to share your ideas out loud. To have someone reflect them back without criticism or “expert advice.” Just presence. Just care. Sometimes you don’t need a guru or a growth hack. You just need space to be real. To talk through your vision, your confusion, your “what ifs,” and your “why the hell nots”—without feeling like you have to have it all together.

Building confidence when you feel like an imposter

Sami C.

For much of my life, I struggled with imposter syndrome—feeling like I didn’t truly belong in spaces where I was achieving success. Despite my experience, accomplishments, and talents, I would often second-guess myself, thinking I wasn’t “enough” or that I was somehow faking my way through life. It wasn’t until I took a deeper look at my own fears and doubts that I realized how much of it was rooted in a deep sense of perfectionism and the unrealistic pressure I’d placed on myself to always be “the best.” Whether in the professional world, in relationships, or in my personal journey, I often found myself wondering if I was capable of truly owning my worth. Through years of self-reflection, counseling, and embracing the imperfection of growth, I’ve learned to identify the triggers of imposter syndrome and use them as stepping stones toward building authentic self-confidence. It wasn’t an overnight shift, but through acknowledging my doubts and learning to quiet them, I slowly started to embrace my true self without needing to be perfect. If you’ve ever felt like you were “faking it” or that you don’t deserve the success and opportunities in front of you, I’m here to help you break free from those self-limiting thoughts and walk alongside you in embracing the truth of who you really are.

building and growing my own business as a freelancer working from home

Celeste G.

Back in 2014, I wanted to be able to work from home because I had 3 kids at the time and wanted to be around more for them. I had some experience working as an instructional designer and creating online courses for students at the university I graduated from, as well as a degree in Mathematics. So I decided to take those skills and find people who needed short term help on projects or others who wanted a freelancer to do some overflow work from time to time. My first freelance job only paid $50 for probably a full days work, but it helped me begin to get an online reputation for quality work on a freelancing site. Soon I had a longer term contract that paid fairly well, and slowly was able to work my way up to several regular clients and consistent part time work. During this time, I learned how to negotiate for higher rates, manage client expectations, and when to turn down job offers, as well as juggle multiple projects, and market myself effectively in the freelance world. Over several years, my clients became increasingly better quality, and I was able to begin working full time. Now I have an employee myself, so that I can pass off extra work to him, and I have been through the hiring process several times since I worked with independent contractors as well. Most of what I have learned came through trial and error and running things by my husband who has served as my business coach. I also talked to a small business development center to take things to the next level a couple of years ago.

Starting over and reskilling at any age

Alex H.

I’ve spent much of my adult life in pursuit of a creative career — primarily as an actor — but that journey has often required side paths, pivots, and full-on reinventions to make ends meet or rediscover momentum. Along the way, I’ve tried everything from retail and logistics to graphic design, real estate, web development, and even full-time programming after completing a coding bootcamp. Some of these paths stuck longer than others. Some didn’t go the distance. But each one taught me something about resourcefulness, resilience, and what it means to choose a life on your own terms. At the heart of each shift was the desire to support myself in ways that felt aligned — to earn a living without selling out the core of who I was. That wasn’t always easy. Learning new skills as an adult — especially under financial pressure — takes grit. And while I often carry a deep belief in my ability to learn and adapt, that doesn’t mean the fear of making a wrong move wasn’t real. What’s helped me most is learning to tune into my gut: regularly checking in and asking if where I’m headed still feels like home to me. I’ve come to see that the only real mistake is staying stuck in something that no longer reflects who you are, just because it once did. Perhaps the biggest lesson has come from my forays into real estate investing and entrepreneurship — ventures that reshaped how I relate to money, risk, and possibility. They helped me shed a scarcity mindset and embrace one of potential. I’ve learned not to regret the things that didn’t pan out. Every attempt taught me how to pivot with love instead of fear. And even when circumstances forced my hand, like when a lucrative startup job collapsed beneath me, I found ways to turn disruption into opportunity. Whether or not I always “succeed” in the way I imagined, I’m proud to keep choosing a life that reflects who I am. That’s the kind of success I now measure by.

side hustles, burnout, and building income streams around your interests

Micah L.

From October 2020 to September 2021, I was unemployed and navigating a really tough job market. To stay afloat during that time, I tapped into the gig economy and explored side hustles. I started with Shipt deliveries, then leveraged connections from college to land freelance work in PR and copywriting. Once I landed a full-time job in September 2021, I stepped back from side hustles to focus on my new role. But when I was unexpectedly laid off again (and then re-hired a week later), I jumped back in. I began freelancing in social media for a skincare brand—work I kept doing for a full year, even while transitioning into my current job in May 2023. These days, I also post my own skincare content online, which lets me combine a personal passion with creative work. I’ve learned that side hustles can be a powerful way to make progress toward your financial goals (whether it’s saving for a car, building an emergency fund, or just having extra money for travel or fun purchases). They can also be an outlet for creativity and personal interests that your full-time job doesn’t fulfill. While side hustles can be great, balancing everything takes strategy, boundaries, and self-awareness to avoid burnout. I’d love to help others find that balance and build side income in a way that feels sustainable.

Leaving a toxic marriage while raising kids

Rebecca G.

I was in a toxic marriage for over ten years. On the surface it looked fine, but underneath there was infidelity, emotional abuse, and a constant feeling of being stuck. I tried counseling many times but often walked away feeling like no one really understood what I was going through. It wasn’t until I leaned on peer support that things started to click and I could finally see a way forward. As a full-time working mom of four, I had to find a way to keep everything afloat while also rebuilding myself. Some days I crushed it. Other days I cried in my car between meetings. But I never stopped moving toward a better life. Now, I’m in a relationship that began during total life chaos and has become something healthy and grounding. I’ve spent years helping other women navigate this kind of mess, especially those trying to juggle motherhood, work, and self-worth all at once. I share honestly because I’ve lived it. And I’m here if you need someone who gets it.

Staying connected in marriage through life’s toughest seasons

Steve P.

My partner and I have been together for 17 years, married for 11, and we’ve been through just about every kind of high and low together. We met when I was living in Greece, and after moving to the U.S. during the market crash, life shifted quickly. Over time we built a life, a home, and a business together. But then COVID hit, and everything came crashing down—our finances took a huge hit, and at the same time, my wife was undergoing emergency brain surgery. It was one of the darkest, most uncertain times we’ve ever faced. There were moments when the stress fractured our connection, but we didn’t give up. We leaned on counseling, each other, and our shared commitment to grow—not just survive. That season taught us how to be stronger together, even when things felt like they were falling apart. Since then, we’ve adopted our teenage daughter from abroad, which brought its own beautiful challenges and growth. Our bond has deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined back when we were first building this life.

Balancing motherhood and health challenges

Jessica I.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

Leaving a job that was hurting your mental health while parenting alone

Carleen H.

In 2021, I completely broke down. I was a single mom raising a 9-year-old, managing a demanding job, and trying to pretend I had it all under control. The truth? I was crying behind closed doors, forgetting things, losing sleep, and snapping at the people I loved most. I was barely surviving and felt like I was failing as a mom and a professional. One night, after yet another meltdown in the kitchen, I knew something had to give. I quit my job with no safety net—no partner, no backup plan, and very little support. It was terrifying. But that leap gave me space to rebuild. I started a company focused on helping parents teach their kids life skills for the real world. I had to learn to believe in myself again, redefine success, and accept that doing it all perfectly isn’t the goal—doing it with presence is. I’ve also been able to support others through similar struggles. A close friend of mine, also a single parent and startup founder, hit a deep depression recently. I sat with him in the darkness, shared my story, and helped him start seeing a way forward.

Finding your way after a bipolar disorder diagnosis

Megan E.

I was studying psychology in college and dreamed of becoming a psychologist. But before I even graduated, I began experiencing delusions and deep emotional swings I couldn’t explain. I was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and everything shifted. My diagnosis made it feel like my career goals slipped out of reach, and I lost my footing. I turned to substances like weed, alcohol, psychedelics to cope. I found myself in a string of chaotic and toxic relationships, including one that turned physically abusive. I overstayed, not trusting myself to leave, until I finally reached a breaking point. Medication helped, but so did having people in my life who reminded me I was still worthy of love and healing. Meeting my now-husband helped me believe in my future again. I got sober in 2023, and even though I still live with bipolar disorder, it no longer defines what I can’t do, it helps me know exactly what I need to thrive. If you’re navigating life after diagnosis, I want you to know you’re not alone. There is a path forward, and it gets clearer with time and support.

The search for purpose and direction while feeling lost

Mike C.

There were times in my life when I felt completely untethered—unsure of where I was headed, doubting whether I had anything meaningful to offer the world. I went through phases of chasing achievements, external validation, or whatever seemed like the ‘right’ next step, hoping it would give me a sense of purpose. But it never felt quite right. Eventually, I realized purpose isn’t something you stumble upon in a single moment—it’s something that evolves, shifts, and grows with you. It’s about understanding your values, what truly resonates with you, and how you want to engage with the world. And sometimes, the first step is simply allowing yourself the space to ask questions without pressure to have all the answers right away. Through peer support, I’ve helped others explore what purpose means to them—not as an obligation, but as a process of discovery. If you’re feeling stuck, uncertain, or lost in the "what’s next?" of life, I get it. Let’s take the time to navigate it together.

Exploring philosophical approaches to self-growth and embracing imperfection

Mike C.

Can't tell you how often I chased a broken idea of self-improvement—becoming "better," eliminating flaws, and constantly striving for an ideal version of myself that felt out of reach. The more I pushed toward that impossible standard, the more disconnected I felt. But growth isn’t about perfection—it’s about exploration. We evolve not by erasing the parts of us we struggle with, but by understanding them, accepting them, and finding authentic ways to move forward. Philosophy has played a huge role in reshaping how I approach self-development, helping me see life less as a rigid path. It can be hard to navigate the tension between self-acceptance and wanting to grow—breaking free from unrealistic expectations and exploring self-reflection in a way that actually feels fulfilling. If you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt or felt like you’re "not enough," let’s take a step back. It doesn’t have to be about fixing—it can be about understanding and embracing the complexity of who you are.

Being in your 20s and wondering, “what am I even doing with my life?”

Sami C.

When I was in college, I thought I had to have everything figured out—career, relationships, calling, identity. The truth? I didn’t. And that pressure almost crushed me, leading me to graduate high school at 16, college at 20 and then go on to earn my MA at 22. Now, after decades of experience as a professor, coach, and mentor to young women navigating these same questions, I’ve learned that clarity doesn’t come from forcing a five-year plan—it comes from learning to listen inward and upward. I love helping young women who feel stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of their next step rediscover who they are and how to move forward with purpose and peace.

surviving life with depression

Adley H.

Depression has been a silent shadow in my life. Sometimes heavy, sometimes barely visible, but always there. It’s the weight in my chest, the fog in my mind, the ache in my bones. It’s the exhaustion that sleep won’t fix, and the hollow feeling even when everything should feel okay. It’s more than sadness. It’s numbness. It’s guilt for not being able to “snap out of it.” It’s the quiet wondering if you’re ever going to feel like yourself again, or if you ever did. But here’s what I know now. Depression lies. It tells you you’re lazy, unlovable, or broken. But none of that is true. Through years of unraveling shame, surviving bad days, and holding on by the thinnest threads, I’ve come to know depression intimately. Not as a moral failure, but as a wound in need of care. If you’re tired, if you’re hurting, if you’re barely hanging on, I get it. I’m not here to push you toward false positivity. I’m here to sit with you in the real.

Rediscovering purpose and identity in midlife

Alex H.

My midlife moment didn’t arrive all at once. The first jolt came when I had a heart attack at 39 — a wake-up call that forced me to confront mortality earlier than I expected. But in some ways, the more jarring shift happened almost a decade later, when I began aging in a way I couldn’t ignore. I had looked 35 until nearly 50, and then—seemingly overnight—I started seeing someone different in the mirror. It wasn’t just about appearance; it was about identity. I felt like I was grieving the version of myself I had been for so long: the youthful guy whose age always surprised people. Suddenly, I wasn’t him anymore. At the same time, I was recommitting to my passion for acting after over a decade in a corporate career. But that brought its own challenges. I worried I was now past the age for the roles I once longed to play. The dream hadn’t died — but the terms had changed. I found myself reckoning with feelings of failure, burnout, and the question of whether I had anything meaningful to show for all the years I’d been chasing this path. The journey since then hasn’t been linear. But now in my 50's with time, reflection, and some truly fulfilling projects under my belt, I’ve begun to make peace with what midlife means for me. I still have goals, but I no longer define success by rigid milestones or external validation. I’ve discovered the beauty of aging into new kinds of roles — on stage, in life, and in community. I’ve also come to see purpose not as a destination, but as a way of being: evolving, internal, and intimately mine. That shift has made space for acceptance, clarity, and even joy in the person I’m becoming.

Finding comfort in not having it all figured out

Katy W.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the things people usually avoid: meaning, purpose, death, the big “why.” It messes with my head in the best and worst ways. Sometimes I spiral into it at 3am and everything feels pointless. Other times I find profound meaning in the way light hits my coffee cup and just shrug at the mystery of it all. Both responses are part of the same beautifully weird picture. I find a weird comfort in not knowing, strange relief in admitting I’m completely winging it, and oddly satisfying meaning in moments that make zero logical sense. That feels more real than pretending I have it all figured out. That’s exactly what I bring to this space: permission to be beautifully lost, to find strange comfort in uncertainty, and to talk about the weird shit that keeps you up at night. If you're the type of person who resonates with this, we might be fit. I see you.

rebuilding your life after panic attacks and marriage struggles

Jessica B.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with a panic disorder that left me terrified to even leave my house. I felt trapped by fear, unable to do basic tasks, and deeply isolated. At the same time, my marriage was breaking down, and I seriously considered divorce, even though the thought of starting over was overwhelming. Through therapy, rebuilding my faith, learning how to set healthy boundaries, and practicing anxiety-reduction techniques, I slowly found my way back to myself—and to my marriage. We worked through broken trust, rebuilt communication, and created a stronger relationship than we ever had before. While I’m not sober myself, my day job involves supporting people who are detoxing from alcohol, which has taught me even more about healing, change, and resilience. I know firsthand how lonely and impossible it can feel in the darkest seasons, but change is truly possible. I'd love to help you find hope and take steps toward a lighter life.

Single parenting from a healed place

Ashley F.

Hello! I’m a visually impaired single mom who’s been raising my son on my own since day one, and I know firsthand how overwhelming—and rewarding—that journey can be. When my husband left during my pregnancy, I was devastated. But leaning on my faith in God, the love of my family, and the strength I discovered in small everyday victories helped me keep going. My parents always believed in me and supported me through public school, and that encouragement laid the foundation for who I am today. I’m currently working toward becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor because I want to walk alongside others in their hardest seasons. I’ve battled clinical depression and PTSD, and I’ve come out stronger, more compassionate, and deeply committed to helping others feel seen, heard, and supported. If you’re navigating single parenthood, trauma, or just need someone to talk to who truly understands, I’m here—and I can’t wait to connect.

the break-up of your family

Ashley F.

In January of 2022, I was 8 months pregnant with my son, Joseph. On January 04, my husband and I separated. I dove into the most intense depression I've ever experienced; I stayed in bed during the day with my phone beside me waiting for it to ring with the news that I could come back home. I lost all excitement for motherhood. When my parents arrived home after work, I would get out of bed, trying to put on a fascade of some semblance of happiness. I would eat dinner, stay up for a few more hours, then crawl back into bed anywhere from 7:30 to 8 PM. A week or so after the separation began, I started working through a devotional book called "Broken Heart On Hold." I don't recall the author, but it was a devotional for women going through an unwanted separation from their husbands. Two of those devotionals stand out to me, and if it weren't for them, I may not have made it. The first one told me to visually "look up into the face of God instead of down into the abyss of your pain." And I did. When the pain felt like it would consume me, I would actually tilt my head upward while imagining the face of God. The second devotional that stood out to me told me to imagine my husband, myself, and Jesus standing in a meadow. I would then imagine taking the pieces of my broken heart out of my husband's hands and placing them into the hands of Jesus. Again, when the pain threatened to consume me, I would visualize this. My excitement for motherhood began to return when my OB gave me the news that I was dilating. That's when it hit me. This was happening. I was having a baby! I wanted this baby. I knew that I would do my best to raise him to the best of my ability. I would be okay. And I am okay! I was awarded sole custody of my sweet, precious baby boy, and I am now about to marry a man who has shown me a fierce, true form of love that I've never experienced before. He loves my son as his own, and my son adores him. I made it. I survived. If it weren't for Jesus, I may not have made it. But I did. And you can, too.

Dating again after divorce—especially when you're still healing

Sami C.

I was married for 20 years, but for at least half of that time, my partner was having same-sex affairs. We tried counseling, fought for our family, but in the end, I had to face the truth of continued betrayal. After the divorce, I waited a year before dating again, thinking I had done the “healing work.” But when I finally joined the dating apps, I met someone quickly and married him just 11 months later after a mostly long-distance relationship. I told myself I was setting a good Christian example for my kids, even though I knew in my gut I shouldn’t say yes. That short-term marriage ended after experiencing emotional and sexual abuse. It took my counselor looking me in the eye and saying, “He’s not going to change” for me to walk away. The process left me emotionally and spiritually bruised—but it also taught me how to trust myself again, rebuild my confidence, and approach dating with more discernment and grace. What I learned from both marriages is this: healing isn’t linear, and dating while grieving is complicated. Now, I help women learn to trust themselves again, navigate dating with honesty, and avoid repeating the same patterns. You’re not too much, too late, or too broken. There is hope—and there is healing. If you’re trying to figure out how to date after divorce without repeating the same patterns, I’d love to help.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Making hard relationship decisions with clarity and peace

Sami C.

I’ve made some of the hardest relationship decisions a woman can face—walking away from a long-term marriage after betrayal, and later ending a short-lived second marriage that I knew in my gut wasn’t right even before the wedding. In both cases, I battled feelings of guilt, fear, and confusion—especially as a woman of faith trying to do “the right thing.” I understand how isolating it feels when you’re stuck between what looks good on paper and what your soul is whispering. Whether you’re questioning a relationship, recovering from one, or just trying to hear your own voice again, I can help you find clarity and peace.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Recovery, rebuilding your life after addiction, and finding hope again

Amanda L.

Hi, I’m a 42-year-old woman living a new and full life after battling alcohol addiction. I spent years caught in a cycle of drinking, convincing myself I'd change "tomorrow," until my health collapsed and I needed a life-saving liver transplant. That terrifying moment became my turning point. With the support of my husband, an amazing addiction therapist, and a commitment to the 12 steps, I found my way to lasting sobriety. In the process, I also healed from the effects of growing up with a mother who struggled with her own mental health. Today, I’m over three years sober, pursuing my Master’s degree to become a Licensed Mental Health Counselor specializing in substance abuse, and working toward adopting a child with my husband. I believe that life after addiction can be filled with more joy, connection, and purpose than we ever imagined. I'm here to share hope, tools, and encouragement with anyone walking a similar path.

Your Christian faith journey

Daneeta S.

I understand and respect that everyone's faith journeys are different. I grew up in the church and have experienced the effects of church hurt and religious practice. At the same time, I have benefited from gaining understanding of the core of my faith and developing a true relationship with God, both through personal experience and my education (a Master's in Biblical and Theological Studies). Through that relationship I have gained an understanding of my purpose and value, self-love and love for others, a sense of peace, and much more. I love the opporutinity to encourage others in their faith journey, and to hopefully help them to uncover and understand what they may be seeking. I would love to accompany and assist you on your personal journey.

questioning the faith you were brought up in and redefining what spirituality means to you

Micah L.

I grew up Southern Baptist in a small town, where I was taught a very fire-and-brimstone version of Christianity. From an early age, I was taught that questioning your beliefs, or even being curious about other faiths, could land you in hell. The message was clear: being a born-again Christian was the only way to know God, and everything else was wrong or dangerous. When I went to college and started meeting people with different beliefs and worldviews, I couldn’t ignore the thought that there was no way there was only one “right” religion. I struggled with guilt at first—I’d been taught that any doubts were sinful. But the more I learned, the more I realized that doubt is normal, and even sacred. People of all faiths (and no faith) wrestle with the same questions. Over time, my view of God shifted to a much more caring, loving, and gracious presence. I see each religion as a different way of trying to explain or connect with God. I still read the Bible and pray because those practices are familiar and grounding for me, but I also believe that love, safety, and intention matter more than labels. If you’re questioning the beliefs you were raised with, or just trying to figure out what spirituality means to you now, you’re not alone. I’d love to hold space for that exploration and help you navigate changing beliefs while still interacting with family, friends, or communities that may not understand.

Divorce after 30 years when your whole map gets redrawn

Kari K.

Thirty years. That's how long I was married before everything changed. Starting over wasn't just scary - it was disorienting. I'll share what it's like to grieve a shared life, rediscover your own voice, and build a brand-new story in a season you never expected.

the break-up of your family

Ashley F.

In January of 2022, I was 8 months pregnant with my son, Joseph. On January 04, my husband and I separated. I dove into the most intense depression I've ever experienced; I stayed in bed during the day with my phone beside me waiting for it to ring with the news that I could come back home. I lost all excitement for motherhood. When my parents arrived home after work, I would get out of bed, trying to put on a fascade of some semblance of happiness. I would eat dinner, stay up for a few more hours, then crawl back into bed anywhere from 7:30 to 8 PM. A week or so after the separation began, I started working through a devotional book called "Broken Heart On Hold." I don't recall the author, but it was a devotional for women going through an unwanted separation from their husbands. Two of those devotionals stand out to me, and if it weren't for them, I may not have made it. The first one told me to visually "look up into the face of God instead of down into the abyss of your pain." And I did. When the pain felt like it would consume me, I would actually tilt my head upward while imagining the face of God. The second devotional that stood out to me told me to imagine my husband, myself, and Jesus standing in a meadow. I would then imagine taking the pieces of my broken heart out of my husband's hands and placing them into the hands of Jesus. Again, when the pain threatened to consume me, I would visualize this. My excitement for motherhood began to return when my OB gave me the news that I was dilating. That's when it hit me. This was happening. I was having a baby! I wanted this baby. I knew that I would do my best to raise him to the best of my ability. I would be okay. And I am okay! I was awarded sole custody of my sweet, precious baby boy, and I am now about to marry a man who has shown me a fierce, true form of love that I've never experienced before. He loves my son as his own, and my son adores him. I made it. I survived. If it weren't for Jesus, I may not have made it. But I did. And you can, too.

Breaking cycles of addiction (weed, coke, meth) for your children

Kellie D.

I grew up in a home where fear felt normal. My dad used meth to cope with his mental health struggles and the pain of losing his father, but it came out as anger. He lashed out at my mom constantly, and I was surrounded by yelling, chaos, and instability. I never felt safe. By the time I was a teen, I had turned to drugs myself—starting with marijuana at 13, then cocaine, and eventually meth by 1-It felt like the only way to numb everything I had absorbed growing up. At 23, I hit a breaking point and made the decision to leave hard drugs behind. A few years later, becoming a mom gave me a new purpose. I looked at my children and knew I had to give them something different. That meant healing, taking accountability, and learning how to parent with love instead of fear. I’ve worked hard to break those generational patterns, and I’m proud of the mom I’ve become. Now I support others who are trying to rewrite their family story because I know what it means to grow up in pain and still choose to build something better.

Being married to a sex addict

S.J. D.

I was married to someone who lived with sex addiction, and for a long time I didn’t fully understand what was happening. I just knew something was very wrong—there were secrets, shame, and a deep erosion of trust. At first, I blamed myself. I thought if I just looked a certain way, acted a certain way, needed less, maybe things would get better. But they didn’t. Eventually, I found my way into the 12-step community, got a therapist who didn’t flinch when I told her the truth, and slowly started reclaiming my sense of self. Divorce wasn’t easy, but staying was harder. I did the gut-wrenching work of healing—through yoga, meditation, therapy, and a whole lot of tears. Today, I’m happily married to someone who values honesty and intimacy in the realest sense. If you're in a relationship where trust has been broken by addiction, I’d be honored to hold space for your experience.

becoming a parent for the first time

Adley H.

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.

navigating your parents' divorce as an adult

Micah L.

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.

Navigating single parenting after a divorce

Carrie M.

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.

Rebuilding after divorce while parenting and healing

Korin L.

When I went through my divorce, I had just become a new mom. On top of that, I lost a close family member around the same time. I was completely overwhelmed — grieving, exhausted, and trying to care for a tiny human while navigating the end of my marriage. My ex and I had very different personalities. He was pessimistic and often made me feel like my natural optimism was naive or annoying. I started shrinking myself, second-guessing my feelings, and believing I had to face everything alone. At first, I was diagnosed with depression, but it wasn’t until much later that I learned I actually had ADHD and C-PTSD. That diagnosis helped everything click. I realized I wasn’t broken — I was just navigating a world that wasn’t built for my brain. Support groups played a big role in my healing. They helped me process the emotional fallout, recognize patterns of self-blame, and start showing myself compassion. Now, I’m in a place of deep acceptance, raising a neurodivergent child while learning and growing alongside them. I know how isolating it can be to rebuild after divorce, especially when you’re also parenting and untangling years of emotional confusion. You don’t have to do it alone. I’ve been there, and I’d love to walk with you through it.

Parenting through a high-conflict divorce with an emotionally abusive ex

Molly P.

I was 42 when I realized I couldn’t keep raising my kids in the emotional chaos of my marriage. Their father was emotionally and verbally abusive—and cheating. I knew staying would only teach them the wrong version of love, so I filed for divorce. It took 3.5 years to finalize, and it was brutal. I had to show up for court, co-parent with someone who constantly crossed emotional boundaries, and still keep my kids grounded and safe. I worked multiple jobs, went through postpartum depression, and juggled toddler tantrums while managing my own grief and exhaustion. But I also taught my kids how to speak up, how to set boundaries, and how to think for themselves—even when it meant calling out their own father’s behavior. It wasn’t perfect, but I stayed steady and led with love. Now they’re adults in strong, healthy relationships, and I know that the hard choices I made gave them a better start. I’m here for anyone trying to parent in the middle of that kind of storm—you don’t have to do it alone.

Creating a loving and supportive step-parenting journey

Jenna L.

When I became a step-parent at 24 and took on full-time care of my stepdaughter at 26, I stepped into a world full of challenges and growth. While I was essentially a single parent for many years, I learned how to build a strong, loving bond with my stepdaughter, even amidst a chaotic environment. Although there were times of emotional strain and hardship dealing with the effects of my ex-husband’s behavior and navigating difficult family dynamics, my focus was always on providing stability and love for my stepdaughter. Through therapy, I discovered healthier ways to cope with my own insecurities and attachment issues, allowing me to show up as a better parent. As my stepdaughter blossomed into a kind, motivated young woman, I realized the strength and resilience that comes from creating a nurturing, supportive family environment. Whether it's navigating step-parenting challenges or healing from difficult family dynamics, I would love to offer guidance and support to others on a similar journey.

Maintaining a strong marriage while struggling with parenting

Shezada H.

I’ve been married for 13 years and together with my husband for 15, and while we’ve faced our share of challenges, one of our greatest strengths is our commitment to open communication and quality time together. Parenting two boys, one on the cusp of adolescence, has been both a joy and a challenge. I’ve struggled with things like postpartum depression, balancing discipline with bonding, and often dealing with mom guilt. But through counseling and a lot of self-reflection, I’ve learned how to set boundaries, actively listen, and prioritize my mental health, which has transformed my relationships at home. My husband and I have worked through building trust, intimacy, and resolving conflicts, and I’m passionate about helping others do the same. I’ve even co-hosted relationship goals groups with my husband to help couples strengthen their connection. I’m now pursuing a degree in clinical mental health counseling, and I would love to share what I’ve learned about balancing marriage and parenting while maintaining strong, supportive connections.

Becoming a better parent through sobriety

Kari K.

From a young age, I knew I wanted to be a different kind of mother than the one I had. Growing up with a mother who had Borderline Personality Disorder, I saw firsthand how challenging and unpredictable relationships could be. My mother’s emotional instability and our difficult relationship shaped my belief that I could do better for my own children. I wanted to be loving, supportive, and stable—the kind of parent who could offer a safe and nurturing environment. But as life unfolded, I found myself in a 30-year marriage that was unhealthy and abusive. My coping mechanism became alcohol. I didn’t know how else to deal with the emotional weight of my situation, so I turned to drinking to numb the pain. I thought it was helping me survive, but it was only making things worse. My children became distant, and I lost the connection I had always hoped to build with them. In 2021, I made the difficult decision to get sober. But sobriety wasn’t just about quitting alcohol, it was about finally becoming the mother I had always wanted to be. It took time, but I worked hard to rebuild trust with my sons and heal from the emotional wounds I had carried for so long. Sobriety gave me the clarity and strength to reflect on my past and the impact my actions had on my family. With patience, self-compassion, and a commitment to change, I began to repair my relationship with my sons, and today, we have a much stronger and healthier bond.

Navigating life with emotionally immature parents

Mike C.

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.

Raising teens/tweens through increased emotional sensitivity and social pressures

Sami C.

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.

navigating family dynamics while healing from trauma

Adley H.

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.

Supporting a loved one through family estrangement

Aditya R.

A few years ago, my family went through a tough chapter. Right before the pandemic, my brother had a falling out with my mom and they became estranged for four years. It was painful for her to be cut off, especially from her grandchildren, and I could see how much it affected her emotionally. At first, I tried to fix it—I felt like I had to patch everything up. That didn’t work. I eventually realized I couldn’t control the situation, but I could be a steady presence for both of them. I helped my mom find other ways to stay connected with joy—encouraging her to stay active, find new outlets, and reflect honestly on how things got to where they were. I also gently guided her toward being open to hard, vulnerable conversations that could slowly open the door to healing. Over time, the ice began to thaw. While the relationship isn’t what it once was, they’re talking again, and there’s genuine progress. That experience showed me just how complicated—but possible—reconnection can be. And I’d love to be a sounding board for anyone trying to support a loved one through estrangement. It’s never a straight path, but you don’t have to walk it alone.

healing from anger issues

Celeste G.

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.

helping a child deal with depression and having trouble going to school

Celeste G.

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.

Building emotional safety for your kids after family trauma

Brittney R.

When I left my first marriage, my children and I were all carrying invisible scars. The home we lived in had been filled with fear, silence, and confusion. I knew I wanted something different for them and for me. But I also knew that healing wasn’t going to happen on its own. So I created what we started calling our “family therapy room”, just a quiet space with pillows, blankets, and no judgment. It became the one place where we could all sit together, breathe, cry, talk, or just be. As a mom, I didn’t have all the answers, but I had the willingness to listen and show up emotionally. Over time, I learned how to speak to my kids in ways that made them feel heard, not pressured. I worked through my own pain in therapy, and shared pieces of that healing with them in ways that were age-appropriate. I learned how to apologize, how to validate their feelings, and how to co-create trust even after hard experiences. My goal wasn’t to be perfect. It was to be safe, real, and open. I believe we can break cycles by teaching our children how to feel and speak their truths. If you’re navigating life after family trauma and want to support your children emotionally, I’d love to share what worked for me and walk with you as you figure out what will work for your family.

Parenting with compassion and creating a stress free environment for your children

Vicky K.

Ever since I was a child, my dream was to be a stay-at-home mom. When I finally had kids, I loved them deeply, but I quickly realized parenting was much tougher than I had imagined. I carried high expectations into motherhood, shaped by a culture where achievements were praised and kids were often compared to others. I expected a lot from my children and, without meaning to, placed a heavy burden on them. This led to frustration, tension, and a lot of anger that I didn’t know how to manage at first. Over time, through self-reflection and a real desire to change, I learned to recognize the harm my anger was causing and worked hard to rebuild trust and connection with my kids. Our relationships are so much stronger now, and I am grateful every day for the second chance I created by showing up differently. I’d love to walk alongside anyone else who wants to repair and strengthen their bond with their children.

Becoming a better parent through sobriety

Kari K.

From a young age, I knew I wanted to be a different kind of mother than the one I had. Growing up with a mother who had Borderline Personality Disorder, I saw firsthand how challenging and unpredictable relationships could be. My mother’s emotional instability and our difficult relationship shaped my belief that I could do better for my own children. I wanted to be loving, supportive, and stable—the kind of parent who could offer a safe and nurturing environment. But as life unfolded, I found myself in a 30-year marriage that was unhealthy and abusive. My coping mechanism became alcohol. I didn’t know how else to deal with the emotional weight of my situation, so I turned to drinking to numb the pain. I thought it was helping me survive, but it was only making things worse. My children became distant, and I lost the connection I had always hoped to build with them. In 2021, I made the difficult decision to get sober. But sobriety wasn’t just about quitting alcohol, it was about finally becoming the mother I had always wanted to be. It took time, but I worked hard to rebuild trust with my sons and heal from the emotional wounds I had carried for so long. Sobriety gave me the clarity and strength to reflect on my past and the impact my actions had on my family. With patience, self-compassion, and a commitment to change, I began to repair my relationship with my sons, and today, we have a much stronger and healthier bond.

Financial disagreements when love and money throw punches

Kari K.

Money is never just money. I've learned this through marriage, divorce, and building a business. I'll share how I've navigated tension, set boundaries, and made peace with being the one who has to talk about the budget first - without losing my mind or my dignity.

about family conflicts

Ashley F.

For years, I have walked through and withstood constant conflict, misunderstanding, criticism, and an unhealthy home environment when it comes to my relationship with my mother. There is a nearly impenetrable wall of hurt, rejection, and misunderstanding between us. I truly understand the feeling of desperation and being trapped in your own home, dreading times when someone will be walking through the door because you don't know what mood they're in. I know the feeling of desperately trying to keep emotion bottled up inside so you don't lash out at the person, whether it be verbally or emotionally. And oh how I know the frustration of someone denying that things have happened when you know for a fact that they have. Have you heard of the five love languages? They are: acts of service, quality time, physical touch, gift giving, and words of affirmation. Our primary way of feeling loved typically happens when the other person speaks our love language. This doesn't happen between my mother and I. Whether it's because I'm adopted or she truly doesn't understand, I don't feel loved. Sure, my family has always provided for me. However, my top two love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. Our personalities clash. She's not affectionate, she's an introvert, and she feels the need for perfection. I'm the exact opposite. Can you relate? Do you need to feel heard, understood, validated, appreciated for your strengths, etc? Let's chat. I can imagine how you feel, and I would love to provide you with a safe space for you to relax, breathe, vent, cry, or whatever it is that you need in that conflict

Finding your emotional language when you’ve always felt misunderstood

Mike C.

For most of my life, it felt like I was speaking a different emotional language than everyone around me. Conversations that should have been simple—expressing feelings, setting boundaries, navigating friendships—felt like puzzles with missing pieces. Being neurodivergent added an extra layer of complexity; sometimes I felt too much, sometimes too little, and almost always like I was being misunderstood. I’ve spent years untangling that sense of disconnection—communicating in a way that feels true to me while still bridging the gap with others. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped people recognize their own emotional language, whether it’s through words, actions, or quiet understanding. You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s mold to be heard. If you’ve ever struggled to express your feelings or felt like you just don’t "fit" emotionally, I get it. Let’s explore how you naturally communicate and find ways to connect with the people who truly understand you.

Navigating life with emotionally immature parents

Mike C.

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.

Breaking cycles of addiction (weed, coke, meth) for your children

Kellie D.

I grew up in a home where fear felt normal. My dad used meth to cope with his mental health struggles and the pain of losing his father, but it came out as anger. He lashed out at my mom constantly, and I was surrounded by yelling, chaos, and instability. I never felt safe. By the time I was a teen, I had turned to drugs myself—starting with marijuana at 13, then cocaine, and eventually meth by 1-It felt like the only way to numb everything I had absorbed growing up. At 23, I hit a breaking point and made the decision to leave hard drugs behind. A few years later, becoming a mom gave me a new purpose. I looked at my children and knew I had to give them something different. That meant healing, taking accountability, and learning how to parent with love instead of fear. I’ve worked hard to break those generational patterns, and I’m proud of the mom I’ve become. Now I support others who are trying to rewrite their family story because I know what it means to grow up in pain and still choose to build something better.

Loving someone who struggles with addiction to cocaine and alcohol

Dyra P.

I grew up in the Dominican Republic and moved to the U.S. when I was five. My childhood was shaped by the reality of addiction, my cousin was using cocaine and I’d watch him sleep all day and stay up all night. He was kind, but deeply ashamed, and I remember how hard it was to see someone I loved struggle so much. My grandfather also struggled with alcoholism and eventually died from liver failure. Watching two people I cared about suffer like that taught me that addiction isn’t about being bad, it’s about being stuck in something painful. It hurts the person using, and it hurts the people who love them too. I barely drink now because of what I lived through, but I’ve never stopped believing there’s hope for people who use. I’ve shared my story with friends who were drinking heavily, and sometimes it helped them pause and think differently. I’ve been that listener for others who are hurting: someone who doesn’t judge, who gets it, and who knows what it’s like to love someone who can’t seem to stop. If you’re going through that now, I’d be honored to sit with you in it.

navigating family dynamics while healing from trauma

Adley H.

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.

Establishing and upholding your boundaries

Daneeta S.

I have both personal and professional experience with establishing boundaries. Personally, I have learned the difference between boundaries, desires and demands, and the benefits of establishing and upholding my personal boundaries. As a life coach I have been granted the opportunity to help others to recognize the same. I find boundaries to be important to well-being, and gaining a true understanding of what boundaries are, as well as what they are not, as crucial to the process. You are your own person, therefore your boundaries should be your own, for you, and contribute to your personal growth and wellness. I would love to help you in cultivating your own beneficial boundaries.

Parenting adult children and LGBTQIA+ parent

Leslie C.

Parenting doesn’t end when children grow up—it transforms. For parents of adult children, especially those who are empty nesters or have LGBTQIA+ children, this phase of life is filled with new challenges and deeper opportunities for connection. This unique stage invites reflection, redefinition of roles, and a renewal of the parent-child relationship grounded in respect, openness, and love. Whether you're adjusting to a quieter home, learning to communicate with your adult children as equals, or embracing and supporting your LGBTQIA+ child’s authentic identity, this journey can be deeply rewarding. This profile supports parents in building bridges, letting go of control, and nurturing lifelong bonds with compassion and grace.

maintaining a strong marriage while struggling with parenting

Shezada H.

I’ve been married for 13 years and together with my husband for 15, and while we’ve faced our share of challenges, one of our greatest strengths is our commitment to open communication and quality time together. Parenting two boys, one on the cusp of adolescence, has been both a joy and a challenge. I’ve struggled with things like postpartum depression, balancing discipline with bonding, and often dealing with mom guilt. But through counseling and a lot of self-reflection, I’ve learned how to set boundaries, actively listen, and prioritize my mental health, which has transformed my relationships at home. My husband and I have worked through building trust, intimacy, and resolving conflicts, and I’m passionate about helping others do the same. I’ve even co-hosted relationship goals groups with my husband to help couples strengthen their connection. I’m now pursuing a degree in clinical mental health counseling, and I would love to share what I’ve learned about balancing marriage and parenting while maintaining strong, supportive connections.

becoming a parent for the first time

Adley H.

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.

Surviving the loss of a stillborn baby

Adley H.

Losing my firstborn son to stillbirth was the most devastating experience of my life. It shattered everything I thought I knew about grief, motherhood, and myself. There’s no way to prepare for the silence where a heartbeat should be, or the way time seems to stop while the world keeps moving forward without your child in it. In the aftermath, I was overwhelmed by a grief that felt impossible to carry. People often don’t know what to say, and sometimes say nothing at all—leaving you to navigate a heartbreak that few truly understand. I know the pain of baby showers, birthdays, and milestones that never come. I know the isolation, the guilt, the anger, and the desperate need for someone who just gets it. Over time, and with a lot of emotional work, I’ve learned to live alongside the loss. I still carry it—but I also carry love, memory, and meaning. I’m here to hold space for you in your grief, whether you’re deep in the early days or years into processing the ache that never fully goes away.

Building a life together as a same-sex couple

Alex H.

My partner and I have been together for decades, and over that time we’ve lived through many of the dynamics that long-term same-sex couples face: mismatched expectations, evolving ideas of monogamy, different levels of comfort around openness and vulnerability. Our early years were rocky, marked by uncertainty and growth at different paces. But over time, trust took root. Not everything became easy or perfectly aligned, but we learned how to stay in the work — how to stay curious, and to keep showing up for each other even when we didn’t always agree. We’ve also moved through big life questions that don’t always come with a map — like what commitment should look like when no one handed you a script, or how to make decisions about marriage when it wasn’t always legally available, or emotionally accessible. We’ve had conversations about having kids, and wrestled with what it would take — practically, financially, emotionally — to pursue that path. While we didn’t become parents, the process of facing those questions still shaped how we saw ourselves as a couple, and clarified what we were building together. We didn’t land where we are through certainty — but through conversation, through friction, and through letting the relationship evolve without needing it to resemble anyone else’s. If you’re trying to navigate your own version of partnership, wherever you are in the process, I’d be glad to talk.

Postpartum

Vanessa S.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

Surviving a high-risk pregnancy and NICU stay

Taylor C.

When I was hospitalized at 30 weeks pregnant, I had no idea what was ahead. My daughter arrived early, and we spent the next three months in the NICU surrounded by breathing machines, surgeries, and a constant stream of uncertainty. I quickly learned the NICU is a place that changes you—where fear, guilt, and strength live side by side. I felt an intense pressure to “stay strong,” but inside I was terrified and deeply isolated. It was hard to ask for help or even know what I needed. What got me through was learning to give myself grace and realizing that being scared didn’t mean I wasn’t strong. Over time, I found ways to process the trauma and make space for both grief and hope. Now, as a mom of two girls, I offer support to others who are walking this path—whether they’re still in the NICU, adjusting after a traumatic birth, or just trying to put the pieces back together. You don’t have to do this alone.

Healing from trauma and reclaiming your strength

Anjelika marin A.

I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, and PTSD—labels that helped me make sense of the chaos I had been carrying since childhood. Growing up, I endured both physical and emotional abuse, along with the pain of abandonment by those who were supposed to protect me. That kind of trauma leaves a mark—it shaped how I saw myself, how I trusted others, and how I moved through the world. There were years when just getting through the day felt like a battle specifically when I struggled with inferitily and overcoming grief from a miscarriage. I carried the quiet pain alone which left me left me feeling isolated, like the world kept moving while I stood still with a heart full of hope and loss. I know what it’s like to dream of becoming a parent, to imagine a future that never fully arrives, and to wrestle with both the physical and emotional weight of that journey. Along the way, I found myself supporting others—friends, family, and peers—who were navigating similar paths. I leaned on my own healing, my studies in child development, and my belief in the power of shared experience. I began to realize that just being there, truly listening, and offering evidence-based guidance could make a real difference. Now, as a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist and psychology student, I offer that same support to anyone going through these challenges. You deserve a space to process your emotions, ask hard questions, and know that you're not alone.

About how a miscarriage can affect your psyche

Keran M.

I did not do anything wrong. I went to the doctor and had no problems. I ate well. Slept well. Had a happy life with a new puppy. Continued doing moderate walking and was excited to welcome a child into my marriage. One afternoon, I was craving ice cream and my husband said he would run to the store to pick up a gallon. The last thing I remember was going to the bathroom and the next thing I saw were the bright lights of a hospital room. I had lost my child and I have no idea what happened. The doctor said I was perfectly healthy and there were no telling signs. I asked him what I did wrong and he said, 'Nothing. Sometimes these things just happen and there is no explanation." I pondered over our talk several times and even called him back to talk to the doctor again but there was no explanation in my case. The best thing to know was that I was healthy and there were no complications and I could try again but in my mind, I still worried. If this has happened to you - let's talk.

The fertility journey after ovarian cancer

Elisabeth H.

At 17, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and although I was lucky to survive, I left that chapter knowing I wouldn’t be able to have biological children. At that age, I didn’t fully grasp what that meant but as I got older and dreamed of becoming a mother, the weight of that loss became more real. During my first marriage, we tried IVF a few times, hoping for a miracle, but each round ended in heartbreak. It was a lonely, emotional road filled with questions I couldn’t always answer and grief I didn’t know how to name. Eventually, we chose adoption, and I became a mom to a beautiful son who changed my world. The joy of raising him existed right alongside the complicated emotions of infertility and the life I once imagined. Over the years, I’ve supported others walking this path, especially women who are figuring out what motherhood might look like after cancer. It’s not easy to grieve what could have been while still embracing what is. If you’re navigating a fertility journey after illness, I’d be honored to hold space for your story.

Balancing motherhood and health challenges

Jessica I.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

getting your finances together (no judgment, just real talk)

Christine D.

I didn’t grow up talking about Roth IRAs or credit scores at the dinner table. What I knew about money came from watching the people around me survive—not thrive. I learned how to stretch, hustle, and make do. But budgeting? Investing? Understanding my paycheck? That came later… painfully, and mostly through trial and error. For a long time, I carried shame about what I didn’t know. I thought I was behind. I thought I was bad with money. But the truth is, I was never taught. And that’s not a personal failure—it’s a systemic one. Eventually, I got tired of feeling anxious every time I checked my bank account. I started reading, asking questions, unlearning toxic money beliefs, and building systems that actually worked for me. I’m not a financial advisor—but I am someone who understands what it’s like to figure it out as you go. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of “getting it together,” but deep down you want to be more in control of your money—you’re in the right place. We can start wherever you are.

Making peace with divorce (and actually thriving after it)

Carina B.

When I got divorced a couple of years ago, I had no idea how lonely the process would feel—even with great friends and family around me. The problem? None of them had been through it. The advice I got didn’t quite land, and honestly, it made me feel even more alone. But divorce, as hard as it was, turned out to be a huge turning point in my life. I grew, I healed, and I’ve come to deeply love the person I am today. Now, friends refer other friends to me whenever they’re navigating a breakup or divorce. I’ve become a sounding board, a cheerleader, and someone who can hold space for how complicated this season can be. If you're overwhelmed, unsure, or just need a little lightness in your day, I’d love to talk. This might feel like the end—but there’s so much possibility on the other side.

Rebuilding your career after the pandemic

Rosy F.

Like many others, the COVID-19 pandemic dramatically changed my life by abruptly ending a career I had carefully built and deeply valued. Losing my professional identity unexpectedly brought a range of emotions—from confusion and frustration to uncertainty about the future. It felt as though I had lost not only my livelihood but a significant part of my personal identity and sense of purpose. Facing this challenge, I gradually found strength in embracing uncertainty, reevaluating my passions, and redefining my professional path. The journey was marked by resilience, self-discovery, and exploring new skills and possibilities I hadn't previously considered. If you're going through a similar experience, let's connect to discuss ways you can rebuild, adapt, and find renewed purpose after career loss.

Navigating cultural adjustment and building new roots as an immigrant parent

Samantha S.

I’m a Hispanic/Indigenous mom of two, originally from an immigrant family. Growing up as the youngest of 14 children, I saw my parents work hard to provide for us after moving to the U.S. From a young age, I experienced the challenges of being part of an immigrant family like learning how to adapt to a new culture, navigate language barriers, and adjust to life in a foreign country. My mother, a teacher, always emphasized the importance of education, which is how I began my journey toward earning a degree in education and later a master’s degree in social work. I became a mom at 18, and the challenges of balancing parenting, financial instability, and career advancement became even more complex. Through my work as a social worker, I’ve dedicated myself to helping other immigrant and marginalized families build their lives from the ground up. I understand what it’s like to feel disconnected from your cultural roots, to deal with homesickness, and to have to fight for your place in a system that doesn’t always make space for you. In my professional life, I’ve worked with families navigating the hurdles of cultural adjustment, language barriers, and building social capital. I’ve coached parents on how to gain financial stability, improve their career prospects, and overcome personal struggles. Having been through the immigrant experience myself, I strive to support others in their journey to find stability and empowerment in a new country, while still honoring their cultural heritage.

Staying connected in marriage through life’s toughest seasons

Steve P.

My partner and I have been together for 17 years, married for 11, and we’ve been through just about every kind of high and low together. We met when I was living in Greece, and after moving to the U.S. during the market crash, life shifted quickly. Over time we built a life, a home, and a business together. But then COVID hit, and everything came crashing down—our finances took a huge hit, and at the same time, my wife was undergoing emergency brain surgery. It was one of the darkest, most uncertain times we’ve ever faced. There were moments when the stress fractured our connection, but we didn’t give up. We leaned on counseling, each other, and our shared commitment to grow—not just survive. That season taught us how to be stronger together, even when things felt like they were falling apart. Since then, we’ve adopted our teenage daughter from abroad, which brought its own beautiful challenges and growth. Our bond has deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined back when we were first building this life.

Healing after a long-term toxic relationship

Laurinda V.

I spent 26 years in a physically and emotionally abusive marriage, only to discover near the end that my husband had been having affairs with men. The betrayal was devastating, but the pain had started long before that—years of feeling invisible, unappreciated, and stuck. After the divorce, I found myself starting over as a single mom with CPTSD, anxiety, and financial instability. It was hard. But I slowly began rebuilding, piece by piece. I went back to school as an adult, eventually earning two master’s degrees, and now work as a school counselor supporting kids and families. I’ve also helped others navigate their own divorces, emotional recovery, and co-parenting journeys. Healing wasn’t quick or easy, but I’ve learned that even after decades of feeling broken, it’s still possible to rediscover your worth and create a life full of purpose and peace. You are not too far gone, and it’s never too late to begin again.

about unexpected job loss

Jessica B.

I had worked with the same company for 25 years. The Owner decided to retire and close the company. Suddenly, I realized my future where I thought I would continue working until retiring was closing the doors. I had been with this company since I was in my 20s. What am I going to do? How can I restart? I have no idea. Anxiety and stress consumed me. All day I only thought about the "what's next" and "starting over". It had been years since I went to school or learned anything knew. The world was more advanced than I was and how could I catch up? I was not sleeping. I was having physical symptoms from the stress. I had been the breadwinner of my family, how can I let them down? The guilt of not continuing to promote myself through the years and the fact that I had put all my eggs in one basket was heavy. It was a heavy burden to carry around and carrying it alone wanted to make me give up. How can I reinvent myself? What if no company wants me? Financially, I was watching the money in the accounts get smaller and smaller. I didn't just want a paycheck, but a career. Ever step forward, felt like a step back. I had a good career, high up in the company and now to start over is scary, isolating, insignificant, ashamed.

getting your finances together (no judgment, just real talk)

Christine D.

I didn’t grow up talking about Roth IRAs or credit scores at the dinner table. What I knew about money came from watching the people around me survive—not thrive. I learned how to stretch, hustle, and make do. But budgeting? Investing? Understanding my paycheck? That came later… painfully, and mostly through trial and error. For a long time, I carried shame about what I didn’t know. I thought I was behind. I thought I was bad with money. But the truth is, I was never taught. And that’s not a personal failure—it’s a systemic one. Eventually, I got tired of feeling anxious every time I checked my bank account. I started reading, asking questions, unlearning toxic money beliefs, and building systems that actually worked for me. I’m not a financial advisor—but I am someone who understands what it’s like to figure it out as you go. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of “getting it together,” but deep down you want to be more in control of your money—you’re in the right place. We can start wherever you are.

surviving homelessness and rebuilding your life from the ground up

Holley B.

There was a time when I had no home — no safe place to sleep, no privacy, and no idea how I was going to survive another day. Homelessness stripped me of everything I thought defined me. It left me exposed, judged, and emotionally wrecked. What most people don’t understand is that homelessness isn’t just about losing a roof over your head — it’s about the crushing weight of invisibility, the constant danger, the trauma of not knowing where you belong. For me, it came after years of abuse, addiction, and heartbreak. And it was one of the most humbling, terrifying seasons of my life. But it was also the beginning of a rebuilding I never thought possible. I clawed my way back — through recovery, healing, faith, and sheer grit. I rebuilt my life brick by brick, not just externally, but internally. Today, I carry the strength of someone who’s been at the bottom and made her way home — to herself. If you’re in that place now — or trying to heal from what you survived — I want to talk with you. I see you. I believe in your ability to rise.

side hustles, burnout, and building income streams around your interests

Micah L.

From October 2020 to September 2021, I was unemployed and navigating a really tough job market. To stay afloat during that time, I tapped into the gig economy and explored side hustles. I started with Shipt deliveries, then leveraged connections from college to land freelance work in PR and copywriting. Once I landed a full-time job in September 2021, I stepped back from side hustles to focus on my new role. But when I was unexpectedly laid off again (and then re-hired a week later), I jumped back in. I began freelancing in social media for a skincare brand—work I kept doing for a full year, even while transitioning into my current job in May 2023. These days, I also post my own skincare content online, which lets me combine a personal passion with creative work. I’ve learned that side hustles can be a powerful way to make progress toward your financial goals (whether it’s saving for a car, building an emergency fund, or just having extra money for travel or fun purchases). They can also be an outlet for creativity and personal interests that your full-time job doesn’t fulfill. While side hustles can be great, balancing everything takes strategy, boundaries, and self-awareness to avoid burnout. I’d love to help others find that balance and build side income in a way that feels sustainable.

breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

surviving the job market and navigating career ups and downs

Micah L.

I graduated from college in May 2020, right into the pandemic-era job market. I felt lucky to land a job just a few months later, but it quickly revealed itself to be a toxic environment. I was laid off that October, and a long stretch of underemployment and instability began. I didn’t find consistent full-time work again until September 2021. That second job felt like a lifeline, but after about a year and a half, I was laid off again—only to be re-hired a week later when they realized they needed me back. In the brief window of that layoff, I had already started interviewing for a new role. I kept going with the process and, after multiple rounds, landed a better job: one that came with a raise and opportunities to grow. I was then able to leave the company that had laid off and re-hired me. Since 2020, I’ve experienced firsthand how chaotic and unpredictable the job market can be. I’ve learned what it takes to stay afloat through layoffs, rejections, and burnout, and have developed strategies for applications, interviews, and finding the confidence to keep going. If you’re feeling defeated by job searching, know that you’re not alone. I’m here to share practical advice and remind you that your worth is not defined by your employment status.

Navigating financial stress as a single parent

Sarita B.

Financial stress first hit me hard when I became a single mother. The emotional and physical demands of parenting alone collided with the reality of limited income and rising debt. I often felt paralyzed by the weight of financial insecurity. It wasn’t just the logistics of paying bills—it was the feeling of being trapped, of falling behind while others moved forward, and of constantly being reminded of childhood poverty I had hoped to leave behind. At my lowest, debt felt like an 800-pound gorilla sitting on my chest. I shrank in social circles where others had more financial stability, and struggled to feel like I belonged. But over time, I began to face things head-on. I made one small step each day—checking my bank account, making hard phone calls, asking for help. I learned that the fear of doing something was often far worse than the task itself. Though financial stress still lingers, my mindset has shifted. Even though it can still feel hard, I’ve seen my own strength in action. I now understand that money doesn’t define me—my values, my efforts, and my love for my child do. That clarity allows me to move through challenges with more grace, confidence, and self-worth.

Holding on to your purpose during professional uncertainty

Francisca B.

In 2023, I lost my job—unexpectedly and without warning. It was more than a career disruption; it felt like a deep personal loss. My work had always been tightly woven with my identity and purpose. I wasn’t just clocking in—I was leading, building, and championing inclusion at the highest levels. So when it was gone, I found myself questioning everything: my direction, my worth, and what came next. That season forced me to slow down. As someone who thrives in high-performance spaces, sitting in stillness was uncomfortable. But it also became one of the most sacred times of my life. I leaned into my faith, embraced rest, and got honest about what I needed—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I surrounded myself with people who reminded me of my value, even when I couldn’t see it for myself. And over time, a new vision began to take shape. Not immediately, not perfectly, but with clarity rooted in who I was, not just what I did. I know what it’s like to be a high-achieving leader brought to an unexpected halt. To grieve what was, while trying to believe in what could be. If you’re navigating professional loss or uncertainty, you don’t have to do it alone. Let’s talk.

Being a single mom after a divorce

Dawn K.

I’m a mother to a 16-year-old son, and through all the twists and turns of life, I’ve learned how strong I really am. Growing up, I was impacted by the tragic loss of a neighbor due to domestic violence, and it lit a fire in me to support women and families in crisis. When I was married, I became the sole breadwinner in our home—but just as our marriage was ending, I was laid off. It was one of the most challenging moments of my life. Suddenly, I had to figure everything out on my own. And I did. Since then, I’ve built a life I’m proud of. I believe I’m an excellent mom, and I’ve worked hard to provide stability, love, and support for my son. My journey has included every kind of relationship challenge you can think of—from heartbreak to healing—and I’ve come out of it with compassion, resilience, and a deep desire to help others.

Leaving a job that was hurting your mental health while parenting alone

Carleen H.

In 2021, I completely broke down. I was a single mom raising a 9-year-old, managing a demanding job, and trying to pretend I had it all under control. The truth? I was crying behind closed doors, forgetting things, losing sleep, and snapping at the people I loved most. I was barely surviving and felt like I was failing as a mom and a professional. One night, after yet another meltdown in the kitchen, I knew something had to give. I quit my job with no safety net—no partner, no backup plan, and very little support. It was terrifying. But that leap gave me space to rebuild. I started a company focused on helping parents teach their kids life skills for the real world. I had to learn to believe in myself again, redefine success, and accept that doing it all perfectly isn’t the goal—doing it with presence is. I’ve also been able to support others through similar struggles. A close friend of mine, also a single parent and startup founder, hit a deep depression recently. I sat with him in the darkness, shared my story, and helped him start seeing a way forward.

rebuilding your life after panic attacks and marriage struggles

Jessica B.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with a panic disorder that left me terrified to even leave my house. I felt trapped by fear, unable to do basic tasks, and deeply isolated. At the same time, my marriage was breaking down, and I seriously considered divorce, even though the thought of starting over was overwhelming. Through therapy, rebuilding my faith, learning how to set healthy boundaries, and practicing anxiety-reduction techniques, I slowly found my way back to myself—and to my marriage. We worked through broken trust, rebuilt communication, and created a stronger relationship than we ever had before. While I’m not sober myself, my day job involves supporting people who are detoxing from alcohol, which has taught me even more about healing, change, and resilience. I know firsthand how lonely and impossible it can feel in the darkest seasons, but change is truly possible. I'd love to help you find hope and take steps toward a lighter life.

Finding your emotional language when you’ve always felt misunderstood

Mike C.

For most of my life, it felt like I was speaking a different emotional language than everyone around me. Conversations that should have been simple—expressing feelings, setting boundaries, navigating friendships—felt like puzzles with missing pieces. Being neurodivergent added an extra layer of complexity; sometimes I felt too much, sometimes too little, and almost always like I was being misunderstood. I’ve spent years untangling that sense of disconnection—communicating in a way that feels true to me while still bridging the gap with others. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped people recognize their own emotional language, whether it’s through words, actions, or quiet understanding. You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s mold to be heard. If you’ve ever struggled to express your feelings or felt like you just don’t "fit" emotionally, I get it. Let’s explore how you naturally communicate and find ways to connect with the people who truly understand you.

female friendships, from sisterhood to tension and everything in between

Christine D.

Female friendships can be soul-healing, laughter-filled, ride-or-die bonds. But let’s be real—they can also be intense, confusing, and sometimes heartbreaking. There’s a deep emotional language we speak with other women—one that’s shaped by closeness, comparison, loyalty, competition, and care. And when that bond cracks, it cuts deep. I’ve had female friendships that felt like home—and some that left me questioning my worth. I’ve been the friend who gave too much. I’ve been the one who pulled away. I’ve felt jealous, left out, deeply connected, and deeply hurt. No one taught me how to navigate all of that. We’re often told to “support each other,” but not how to deal with the unspoken expectations, silent treatments, or moments where it feels like love and envy are tangled together. Over time, I’ve learned how to unpack those dynamics—how to name what I feel, communicate better, forgive where I can, and honor when it’s time to walk away. Female friendships are layered and sacred. They deserve care and conversation, not just assumptions and silence. If you’ve ever felt confused by your friendships with women—too close, not close enough, triggered, adored, betrayed, or bonded in ways you can’t explain—you’re not alone. Let’s talk about it.

Navigating your various relationships in a healthy way

Daneeta S.

I have had to learn to navigate different relationships throughout the years, including familial, work, friend and romantic relationships. Through my experience, along with my training as a life coach with a concentration in relationships, I have come to find that there are a number of aspects that contribute to the health and wellbeing of a relationship. I am here to assist with those aspects, including setting and upholding boundaries, healthy communication, showing care, expressing your desires for care and love, dealing with conflict in relationships, and even breakups. Whatever the case may be, I'm here to help and support you in navigating your relationships.

friendship, shifting dynamics, and making meaningful connections as an adult

Micah L.

Friendship has always been a complicated subject for me. I used to judge myself for not having a big group of high school friends, college friends, work friends—the kind of neat social circles I saw other people posting about. I’ve never really had a solid “friend group.” Instead, I’ve had a few meaningful one-on-one connections here and there. Deep, but scattered. Quality over quantity. In college, my best friend and roommate had a psychotic break and had to move back in with her family. That changed everything. I eventually became close with someone else, but just as we built a rhythm, she moved across the country, and our dynamic shifted. For a while, I felt like I was cursed when it came to friendships. Especially with how often people say it’s so hard to make friends as an adult, I really believed I was just stuck. But eventually, I got intentional. I started putting myself out there through online platforms, Bumble BFF, and even tried an app called Timeleft, where you meet strangers for dinner. I stayed open and slowly started meeting people I clicked with. Now, I have a handful of people I regularly meet up with for dinner, go on trips with, keep up with online, and have phone calls with. Connecting with friends really keeps me going. If you’ve ever felt lonely, left out, or confused by changing friendship dynamics, I get it. Especially if, like me, you value friendship even more than family. I’d love to help validate those feelings and offer practical tips for building the kind of connections that feel meaningful to you.

rebuilding life and finding strength after losing a loved one

Larry K.

After losing the love of my life, I realized this grief was different from previous losses. It felt like my life was a beautiful vase shattered into a hundred pieces. I tried to pick them up and put them back together, but I couldn’t do it alone. Some pieces were too far away, others didn’t fit, and I was frustrated and in despair. That’s when I accepted the love and help offered by those around me. Others could reach pieces I could not and helped me fit them back together. Together, we created a new vase—different but functional and ready to be used again. I learned not to be too proud to accept help because I wouldn’t have gotten up without it. Wisdom, I found, is simply knowledge gained through life’s hardest experiences. Prior to the death of my Wife, I had experienced the loss of my parents and other close family members. But they were no more than a punch in the gut. You fall down, sit for a bit, get up and go again. My Wifes loss was completely different. It was as if my life was a beautiful vase that had fallen to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. I had to sit down and try gathering the pieces and try putting them back together again. Needless to say, I could not seem to do it by myself. Some pieces were too far away. I could not figure out how to make other pieces fit together. i was frustrated and in despair but that is when i realized how much love and help i had around me and I accepted this gift. Some people could reach the pieces that i could not reach and brought them back to me. Others had the ability to fit pieces back together that i could not do. By drawing on our strengths together we were able to create a new vase which is functional and ready for use again. Do not ever be too proud to accept the help that good people want to shelter you with. I would have not been able to get off the floor again if it wasn't for the help and love given to me by others. Wisdom is nothing more than knowledge gained through life's experiences.

Navigating the chaos of parenting while blending families

Jessica B.

Life took an unexpected turn for me. I was a Navy veteran planning to move across the country with my son, but two months before I was set to leave, I met my husband on eHarmony. A year later, we were married, and I was pregnant with our first baby. The speed of it all was overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to blending families—especially when my husband already had four daughters, including twins. With all of the sudden changes, I had to quickly learn how to make it all work. Through the years, I’ve figured out how to juggle the ups and downs of parenting, including homeschooling my kids in a way that fits our family’s unique needs. I’m not your typical homeschool mom—I rely on a nanny to teach the younger ones and help my older son stay on track with his assignments. It’s definitely not the traditional model, but it works for us. Over time, I’ve learned how important it is to feel validated in your experience as a mom, especially when things get overwhelming. I wish I had someone to talk to in the early days of my parenting journey, someone who could help me feel like I wasn’t alone. Now, I’m passionate about supporting other moms, helping them find ways to cope with the chaos, and offering tools that have worked for me along the way.

Taking your power back after trauma, addiction, and broken relationships

Diana S.

Everything changed the night a drunk driver hit me. I had already been through so much—domestic violence, a miscarriage, years of numbing pain with alcohol and drugs—but that crash felt like the universe forcing me to stop. I walked away physically, but inside I was wrecked. The fear, the trauma, the realization of how out of control everything had become—it hit me all at once. That crash was my wake-up call. I couldn’t keep going like that. I knew I needed to change, but I also knew I couldn’t do it alone. I started talking to people I trusted. I went to therapy, leaned on apps and online support, and slowly started putting the pieces of myself back together. I let go of toxic relationships. I chose sobriety: first from drugs, then from alcohol. Since then, I’ve had the chance to support others who were stuck in the same cycle I was in. I know what it’s like to feel ashamed, to relapse, to wonder if you’ll ever feel normal again. I’m here to say you can start over, even when it feels impossible. I’ll meet you where you are with honesty, kindness, and no judgment.

The downside of partying, drugs and alcohol use

Baker R.

I’ve been through a turbulent relationship and a public breakup that was widely discussed among my social circles. While it was a difficult experience, it taught me so much about myself and relationships. After the breakup, friends and family started turning to me for guidance through their own relationship struggles, and I realized I had a lot to offer in terms of support and advice. In addition to my relationship challenges, I grew up in a party circle that introduced me to alcohol and drugs at a young age. What began as occasional fun in high school quickly became an overwhelming part of my life in college, where the drinking and partying only intensified. I began to feel a deep sense of guilt and self-loathing, especially after a series of mistakes that made me realize how much my substance use was spiraling out of control. Determined to change, I quit cold turkey, with a great deal of support from my friends and family. The journey was tough but ultimately rewarding.

Relationships, friendship struggles, and feeling truly seen

Josie B.

Hi, I’m a recent college grad who’s passionate about helping people feel heard, understood, and supported. Over the years, I’ve navigated my own journey through mental health struggles, identity confusion, relationship challenges, and trauma. I know how isolating it can feel when you open up to someone and aren’t met with the support you need. That’s why I’m committed to being a genuine, judgment-free person you can talk to. Whether you need a sounding board, help working through relationship or communication issues, or just a place to be yourself without fear of invalidation, I’m here. Helping others isn't just something I do — it’s a big part of who I am, and I would be honored to support you.

Friendship: who's still standing after the freakshow

Kari K.

Divorce, recovery, business, grief - I've been through a lot of friend filters. I'll share what I learned about showing up, letting go, and building community that doesn't require costumes. Real friends don't flinch when the mascara runs.

female friendships, from sisterhood to tension and everything in between

Christine D.

Female friendships can be soul-healing, laughter-filled, ride-or-die bonds. But let’s be real—they can also be intense, confusing, and sometimes heartbreaking. There’s a deep emotional language we speak with other women—one that’s shaped by closeness, comparison, loyalty, competition, and care. And when that bond cracks, it cuts deep. I’ve had female friendships that felt like home—and some that left me questioning my worth. I’ve been the friend who gave too much. I’ve been the one who pulled away. I’ve felt jealous, left out, deeply connected, and deeply hurt. No one taught me how to navigate all of that. We’re often told to “support each other,” but not how to deal with the unspoken expectations, silent treatments, or moments where it feels like love and envy are tangled together. Over time, I’ve learned how to unpack those dynamics—how to name what I feel, communicate better, forgive where I can, and honor when it’s time to walk away. Female friendships are layered and sacred. They deserve care and conversation, not just assumptions and silence. If you’ve ever felt confused by your friendships with women—too close, not close enough, triggered, adored, betrayed, or bonded in ways you can’t explain—you’re not alone. Let’s talk about it.

Establishing and upholding your boundaries

Daneeta S.

I have both personal and professional experience with establishing boundaries. Personally, I have learned the difference between boundaries, desires and demands, and the benefits of establishing and upholding my personal boundaries. As a life coach I have been granted the opportunity to help others to recognize the same. I find boundaries to be important to well-being, and gaining a true understanding of what boundaries are, as well as what they are not, as crucial to the process. You are your own person, therefore your boundaries should be your own, for you, and contribute to your personal growth and wellness. I would love to help you in cultivating your own beneficial boundaries.

feeling out of place

Ritika D.

I've often felt like an outsider in social settings. I’d overthink every word I said, replay conversations later, and wonder if I came off as “too quiet,” “too intense,” or just... off. Parties drained me. Small talk felt like a performance. I used to beat myself up for not being more "normal" in groups. But slowly, I started to understand that awkward doesn’t mean unworthy. I began leaning into my natural rhythm—deep, thoughtful, intentional—and started forming fewer, but truer, connections.

friendship, shifting dynamics, and making meaningful connections as an adult

Micah L.

Friendship has always been a complicated subject for me. I used to judge myself for not having a big group of high school friends, college friends, work friends—the kind of neat social circles I saw other people posting about. I’ve never really had a solid “friend group.” Instead, I’ve had a few meaningful one-on-one connections here and there. Deep, but scattered. Quality over quantity. In college, my best friend and roommate had a psychotic break and had to move back in with her family. That changed everything. I eventually became close with someone else, but just as we built a rhythm, she moved across the country, and our dynamic shifted. For a while, I felt like I was cursed when it came to friendships. Especially with how often people say it’s so hard to make friends as an adult, I really believed I was just stuck. But eventually, I got intentional. I started putting myself out there through online platforms, Bumble BFF, and even tried an app called Timeleft, where you meet strangers for dinner. I stayed open and slowly started meeting people I clicked with. Now, I have a handful of people I regularly meet up with for dinner, go on trips with, keep up with online, and have phone calls with. Connecting with friends really keeps me going. If you’ve ever felt lonely, left out, or confused by changing friendship dynamics, I get it. Especially if, like me, you value friendship even more than family. I’d love to help validate those feelings and offer practical tips for building the kind of connections that feel meaningful to you.

Navigating friendship changes during big life transitions

Carrie M.

Becoming a parent changed my friendships in ways I never expected. Some friends drifted away when I couldn't make last-minute plans or stay out late anymore. Others seemed uncomfortable with my new reality, like they didn't know how to relate to me once I had kids. I felt guilty for not being as available, but also resentful when friends didn't understand why a simple dinner out now required two weeks of planning. I was grieving the spontaneous connections I used to have while trying to figure out who I was in these relationships now. The loneliness was real. I found myself surrounded by people at playgrounds and school events, but craving the deep conversations and authentic connections I used to have. Making mom friends felt awkward—were we connecting as people or just because our kids were the same age? I struggled with boundaries, too, feeling like I had to say yes to every social invitation to prove I was still fun, even when I was exhausted. I was trying to maintain my old friendships while building new ones, and doing neither very well. What I learned is that friendships, like everything else, need to evolve with your life stages. Some relationships naturally faded, and that was okay. Others deepened in unexpected ways when I got honest about what I needed and what I could offer. I discovered that quality mattered more than quantity, and that showing up authentically—even if it looked different than before—was better than pretending nothing had changed. If you're feeling disconnected from old friends, struggling to make new ones, or wondering how to maintain meaningful relationships while parenting, you're not alone in this shift.

Navigating the grief of friend breakups

Carrie M.

I never expected to grieve a friendship like I would grieve a death, but that's exactly what happened when a close friendship ended. We'd been through everything together—celebrations, heartbreaks, major life changes—and suddenly we weren't speaking anymore. The silence felt deafening. I kept reaching for my phone to text them about random things, only to remember that we were no longer part of each other's daily lives. The loss felt so profound, yet I didn't know how to talk about it because everyone else seemed to move on from friendships more easily. What made it harder was that there was no clear ending, no funeral, no ritual to mark what we'd lost. Just an awkward fade, unspoken hurt, and the strange experience of seeing pieces of their life on social media while feeling like a stranger. I found myself questioning everything—was I too much? Did I misread our connection? The friendship had shaped so much of who I was, and suddenly I had to figure out how to be myself without that reflection, that shared history, that person who knew me in ways others didn't. The healing wasn't linear. Some days I felt angry, other days grateful for what we'd shared, and sometimes just deeply sad for what would never be again. I learned that it's okay to mourn a friendship, to feel confused about how something so meaningful could just end, and to take time to process what that relationship meant to you. If you're navigating the loss of a close friend—whether through conflict, distance, or just growing apart—the grief you're feeling is real and valid.

Friendships as a dink (dual income no kids), neurodivergent, and introverted individual

Solangel J.

Friendship gets a lot more complicated in adulthood—and even more so when you’re neurodivergent, introverted, and part of a DINK (dual-income, no-kids) couple. I’ve experienced all kinds of shifts in my friendships. Some drifted. Some deepened. And some left me feeling like I no longer had a place in the group chat. A lot of the people in my life became parents, and suddenly our day-to-day realities felt worlds apart. I started feeling a little invisible. At the same time, I didn’t always know how to share my own life without feeling like it might be taken the wrong way. Like I had too much freedom, or not enough chaos to be relatable. That kind of quiet distance builds fast. As an introvert, friendship has always looked a little different for me. I’m not great at small talk or big social events. I recharge in solitude and connect more deeply one-on-one. Add in ADHD and autism, and the pressure to show up a certain way—or to mask through social norms that don’t fit—can be draining. There were times I completely went silent—not because I didn’t care, but because I was overstimulated, burnt out, or struggling to respond. And I’ve definitely felt the shame spiral that comes with being ‘the flaky friend’ even when it wasn’t intentional. But here’s what I’ve come to believe: friendships don’t need to be constant to be meaningful. They don’t need to look loud or high-energy to be real. I’ve learned to honor my capacity, find ways to reconnect that feel natural, and surround myself with people who get that sometimes love looks like space, slowness, or silence. If you’re navigating friendship from the quieter side, from a different life path, or from a place of figuring it out—you’re not alone.

Finding your first steps in recovery

Jenna C.

I never imagined myself getting sober. Honestly, I had already planned out my death—I didn’t think there was any hope left. After twelve years of nonstop partying, I found myself at 29, sick and tired of being sick and tired. I wasn’t trying to get sober, not really—but something shifted. I picked up the phone and asked for help. That one small moment cracked the door open, and it saved my life. Since then, recovery has become the foundation of everything I do. It hasn’t always been easy—my journey has been shaped by trauma, mental health struggles, chronic illness, and growing up in a family deeply impacted by addiction. I understand that recovery isn’t a straight line or a one-size-fits-all process. Now, I help others find their own way through it. Whether it's meeting someone where they are, supporting someone in a violent relationship to take their first steps toward safety, or walking alongside someone questioning whether they’re ready—I've been there. I offer honest, compassionate support to anyone wondering if it’s time for a change. Sometimes, all it takes is one small sliver of hope. I’d love to help you find yours.

Relationships, friendship struggles, and feeling truly seen

Josie B.

Hi, I’m a recent college grad who’s passionate about helping people feel heard, understood, and supported. Over the years, I’ve navigated my own journey through mental health struggles, identity confusion, relationship challenges, and trauma. I know how isolating it can feel when you open up to someone and aren’t met with the support you need. That’s why I’m committed to being a genuine, judgment-free person you can talk to. Whether you need a sounding board, help working through relationship or communication issues, or just a place to be yourself without fear of invalidation, I’m here. Helping others isn't just something I do — it’s a big part of who I am, and I would be honored to support you.

Healing from toxic relationships

Addison W.

I'm a trans man in my late 20s who's been shaped by both hardship and healing. During a particularly difficult time in my life, I found myself in an environment that tested my boundaries and challenged my mental health. It took time — and the support of people who cared about me — to recognize what I was experiencing and begin the process of reclaiming my peace. Along the way, I’ve worked through PTSD and anxiety, explored different forms of healing, and learned how to stay grounded in the face of emotional intensity. I've supported others in the LGBTQ+ community, held space for friends facing tough relationship dynamics, and developed a strong sense of when and how to set healthy boundaries. I bring a calm, empathetic presence to every conversation. If you're feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, or caught in something hard to name — I'm here. You don’t have to navigate it alone.

Being out at work — in your own way, and in your own time

Alex H.

I’ve never led a double life or pretended to be someone I’m not — but for many years, I also didn’t speak openly about my sexuality at work. It wasn’t a conscious choice to hide so much as a quiet calibration of comfort: Was this a place where I could be vulnerable? Did I feel safe enough to be fully myself? In the performing arts world, being out was more normalized, almost expected. But in more traditional or corporate settings, I found myself making a series of micro-decisions — a mention of a boyfriend here, a reference to my husband there — slowly allowing more of myself into the room. I’m lucky in many ways: I live in a progressive part of the country with legal protections and a generally inclusive work culture. For me, coming out at work wasn’t about fearing repercussions. It was about growing into my own sense of authenticity and letting go of the long-held instinct to self-edit — an instinct shaped by childhood messages that told me I was “too much” or too expressive. That fear of being “found out” lingered in the background, not as a threat but as a habit — one that’s hard to shake, especially in professional settings where scrutiny and performance go hand in hand. There were no dramatic coming-out moments for me — just a steady unfolding. Supportive colleagues helped. So did jobs where I felt psychologically safe, where I didn’t have to compartmentalize to survive. Still, there were times I felt like an outsider, particularly in male-dominated or heteronormative spaces. The difference wasn’t always spoken, but it was felt — in conversations I couldn’t quite join, or camaraderie I wasn’t sure how to access. These days, being out at work feels less like a decision and more like a given. I don’t feel a line between being “in” or “out” — I just am. For anyone else weighing whether, how, or when to come out at work, I don’t have a script. But I do know most imagined fears are harsher than the reality, and that living more fully into yourself — even in quiet, gradual ways — can offer a huge lift to your sense of well-being. If you’re looking to talk it through, I’d be honored to help you find a path that feels natural, grounded, and fully yours.

Supporting a transgender child through family acceptance struggles

Julia H.

As a parent of a transgender child, I’ve had to navigate the complexities of family acceptance. My ex-husband has struggled to accept our child’s identity, and I’ve often found myself in the middle of difficult conversations, trying to protect my child while maintaining family dynamics. I’ve watched my child face rejection and misunderstanding, and it’s been one of the toughest things I’ve ever experienced. But through it all, I’ve learned the importance of love, patience, and standing firm in my support. I’ve learned how to advocate for my child, even when it means challenging long-held beliefs within my own family. Along the way, I’ve had to process my own emotions and work through feelings of sadness and frustration, but I’ve also found joy in watching my child grow stronger and more confident in who they are. This journey has reshaped how I see family, love, and acceptance, and I’m passionate about helping others who are going through similar struggles. If you’re facing challenges with family acceptance, I’m here to walk alongside you and offer support.

Co-parenting after coming out and navigating big life changes

Lauren B.

When my daughter was less a year old, her father and I decided to separate while I was simultaneously going through the process of coming out as queer. It involved a lot of conflict, internal deep-diving, and mediation. Within a year, both of us had remarried new partners, and our family dynamic quickly shifted. Co-parenting in that kind of emotional whirlwind came with serious challenges: communication breakdowns, legal struggles, and learning how to put our daughter first while still honoring who we were becoming. On top of that, we learned she had ADHD, like me, which added another layer to how we had to show up for her. I was trying to parent her the way I wished I had been parented: compassionately, with curiosity and support for her differences, but that wasn’t always easy with two households and differing parenting styles. As a former special ed teacher and current interpreter, I leaned on my background in advocacy and education to create stability where I could. Therapy, humor, and community were key for me. Now, I want to be a steady hand for anyone else navigating this emotional maze. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.

Rebuilding relationships after conflict

Darius C.

A few years ago, I had a close friend I’d known for four years, and a misunderstanding between us led to silence for three months. It hurt. But I also believed our friendship still had value. So, I took the first step and reached out. We talked through what happened, shared our perspectives, and slowly started to rebuild. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. That experience taught me that relationships can be transitional and still be worth repairing—if both people are willing to show up with honesty and accountability. I also center my work around supporting the LGBTQ+ and BIPOC communities because I know how layered and nuanced our experiences can be. If you're going through a tough time in a relationship—romantic, platonic, or family-related—let’s talk it out.

Coming out as transgender later in life

Stefanie C.

I lived the first 68 years of my life in the closet. I had a loving wife, a long and successful career as a CPA, and from the outside, everything looked settled. But deep inside, I knew there was more to who I truly was. It wasn’t until after my wife passed that I felt the opening to finally live as myself. Coming out as a transgender woman in my 70s was both liberating and challenging. The legal process of changing my name and gender marker was my first big hurdle—but I completed it in under seven months, one of the shortest timelines in Illinois at the time. Since then, I’ve used my experience to support other transgender women, especially those navigating later-in-life transitions. I now speak publicly, mentor others, and advocate for culturally competent care because I know how isolating the journey can feel. You’re never too old to live authentically, and I’m here to walk alongside anyone taking those first brave steps.

Living with depression and still showing up for yourself

Joe C.

I have lived with depression for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t something I could just “get over”—it became something I had to learn to live with, manage, and eventually grow from. Over time, I realized that while depression shaped many parts of my life, it didn’t have to define me. I learned to honor my emotions, trust myself, and keep showing up, even when the path was messy and hard. Through my journey, I discovered the deep power of listening and creating space for others to feel safe in their own struggles. Whether parenting five children, supporting a friend through anxiety, or helping someone move past the stigma of seeking counseling, I’ve found that resilience often looks like simply continuing to show up. Today, I'm proud of how far I’ve come and would love to offer a safe, understanding space for anyone navigating depression or emotional pain.

Your self-growth journey (self-love/worth, positive self-imagery, goal setting/achievement)

Daneeta S.

My passions for positive self-imagery and a healthy self-love were birthed out of my own struggles with low self-esteem, a lack of self-worth and a poor self-imagery. It took years for me to find my identity and purpose, and has made me empathetic to those who experience the same. I believe I am meant to help others through such struggles, as well as other things related to such struggles, such as personal goals, relational boundaries, and goal setting (including feeling capable and worthy of achieving those goals). Along with a passion for helping others, I also have a knack for efficiency and a commitment to excellence. For that reason, I obtained my life coaching certification in 2011, with concentrations in life, relationships, wellness and bereavement. With my combination of experience, passion and training, I am here to support you the best way I can.

Breaking free from unhealthy coping mechanisms and building healthier habits

Cynthia E.

I grew up with a lot of instability. My dad was an alcoholic, and my mom worked a lot, which meant I had to become independent at a young age. My grandma was my main source of support, and when she passed away, I started turning to alcohol to cope with the grief and the pressure of managing everything on my own. I hadn’t realized how dependent I had become until one night, I found myself unable to sleep because I didn’t have alcohol. That’s when I knew something needed to change. I reached out to my friends for support, went to my doctor, and started attending support groups. I quit drinking, but it wasn’t easy. There were a lot of tough moments, and I had to face emotions I had been avoiding for a long time. Over time, I learned how to trust others and set boundaries, and I started to focus on healing emotionally from my past. Now, I work as a peer support specialist, helping others who are facing similar struggles. I want to be someone who listens and helps others break free from unhealthy habits and create a life that feels more balanced and healthy.

Breaking free from unhealthy coping mechanisms and building healthier habits

Cynthia E.

I grew up with a lot of instability. My dad was an alcoholic, and my mom worked a lot, which meant I had to become independent at a young age. My grandma was my main source of support, and when she passed away, I started turning to alcohol to cope with the grief and the pressure of managing everything on my own. I hadn’t realized how dependent I had become until one night, I found myself unable to sleep because I didn’t have alcohol. That’s when I knew something needed to change. I reached out to my friends for support, went to my doctor, and started attending support groups. I quit drinking, but it wasn’t easy. There were a lot of tough moments, and I had to face emotions I had been avoiding for a long time. Over time, I learned how to trust others and set boundaries, and I started to focus on healing emotionally from my past. Now, I work as a peer support specialist, helping others who are facing similar struggles. I want to be someone who listens and helps others break free from unhealthy habits and create a life that feels more balanced and healthy.

Bipolar disorder let's talk it through

Brandi S.

You are not alone, and together we can find ways to live a full and meaningful life with bipolar disorder. I understand the highs and lows, the confusion and clarity that come with this journey. I'm here to offer a safe, non-judgmental space where you can share your experiences, ask questions, and look into ways to manage your symptoms. We can talk about what it was like to be diagnosed, how to build a routine that supports your well-being, how important it is to take care of yourself, and how to find hope at every step of your recovery.

Navigating sobriety as a parent, and dealing with loss and work stress

Stephen M.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

Getting sober after alcohol became your way of life

Adam A.

Drinking started off as fun something that helped quiet my mind and made life feel easier. I became a bartender, so it fit right into my world. But over time, it became how I dealt with everything: stress, loneliness, heartbreak. I lost a relationship I really cared about because of it, and when a family member passed, I hit one of the darkest points of my life. I tried Naltrexone, but what really changed things was realizing I just couldn’t live like that anymore. Getting sober wasn’t just about quitting it was about learning who I was without alcohol. That part was harder than I expected. But now, I’m clear-headed, present, and proud of how far I’ve come. If you’re questioning your relationship with drinking, I’ve been there and I’d be glad to talk through it with you.

Navigating family dynamics and grief after loss

Micah L.

In 2023, my brother’s partner tragically passed away, leaving behind two young children. This loss has been incredibly challenging, but it has also given me insight into grief, family dynamics, and resilience. While managing my own grief, I also helped support my niece and nephew, who were only 3 and 4 years old at the time. It was heartbreaking to witness their pain and confusion, but it also showed me the importance of providing a steady and supportive presence during such a difficult time. In the midst of this, I also made the tough decision to go low-contact with my parents due to long-standing unresolved issues. Navigating both the grief of losing my brother’s partner and the tension in my family has shaped how I approach relationships and conflict. I've learned the importance of boundaries, self-compassion, and resilience. I now have a deeper understanding of how grief and family dynamics can impact not only those who are grieving but also the relationships that remain. Through this experience, I hope to be a source of support for others who are facing similar challenges.

losing a parent

Sunny H.

My dad was a wonderful father and grandfather, but not a wonderful husband. When he got sick, I struggled with helping to care for him while watching him be unkind and ungrateful to my mom. Old resentments and years of sacrifice turned my loving mom bitter and angry. They had a picture perfect 54 year marriage and these challenges were bringing out the worst in both of them. My mom was leaning on me in ways that were not necessarily healthy and told me things she'd never shared. I worked hard to treat my dad with the love he'd always shown me and set boundaries on how he could treat my mom, at least in my presence. I reminded myself how vulnerable and scared he was and his actions were his inability to manage those emotions. I let my mom say anything she needed to because she needed it to be OK to be hurt and angry. I didn't let anyone, even my dad, change how I've felt about him for all 50 years of my life. These last moments were not going to be his legacy. I really believe his illness was affecting his brain. He just wasn't the same man so holding him accountable was not necessary. I kept the peace in the family so his passing would not break the rest of us apart.

Surviving the unthinkable

Vanessa S.

Grief has touched every corner of my life. I was involved in a tragic accident that took someone’s life and changed me forever. Not long after, I lost my soulmate to suicide. Then I lost a close friend. And just when I thought my heart couldn’t break any more, I lost my son to fentanyl a loss no parent should ever have to survive. Each of these moments shattered a piece of me. The kind of silence that grief creates is heavy, isolating, and sometimes unbearable. There’s no roadmap, no “right” way to move through it. But somehow, I’ve learned to carry it. I’ve learned that we don’t move on we move with it. If you’re living with heartbreak, trauma, or the kind of loss that changed everything, you don’t have to face it alone.

Navigating grief and rebuilding self-worth after losing a friend

MacKenzie C.

When I was in college, I lost a close friend to suicide during the height of the pandemic. The shock of it, combined with the loneliness of that time, hit me harder than I could have imagined. I was eventually diagnosed with major depression and felt completely stuck, questioning my own worth and purpose. Over the past five years, I’ve poured myself into healing, studying psychology, and creating self-regulation tools to move through sadness, anger, and guilt. I learned to honor my friend's memory without letting grief define me. I also worked to rebuild my confidence, leaving behind toxic relationships and embracing sobriety in 2021. Through all of this, I realized how powerful it is to have someone walk with you through healing. Now, as a life coach and mentor, I’m passionate about helping others find their footing again after loss.

Continuing with life after loss and redefining your role in your family

Larry K.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

Organ transplant surgery

Sarah C.

For five years—ages 18 to 23—I managed congestive heart failure. Medications, specialist appointments, lifestyle changes, exploring every option available. I told myself I would be alright, but deep down, I knew things were getting worse. My body was exhausted. I felt hopeless while struggling through the daily realities of heart failure. The idea of needing an organ transplant felt overwhelming—too big, too final, too terrifying to face. So I kept searching. I hoped things might improve with stem cell therapy. I was scared. What if the surgery failed? What if I didn’t find a donor in time? What would recovery even look like? I worried about the toll on my family, the financial weight, and the uncertainty of life after transplant. But slowly, I came to understand that waiting was its own risk. Staying in survival mode wasn’t truly living. And when things got worse, I had to be brave. I listened to the doctors. I pushed through the discomfort, the fear, the unknowns. The journey hasn’t been easy. There were setbacks, sleepless nights, and moments of deep uncertainty. But there was also clarity, connection, and incredible support. I learned to advocate for myself, to lean on others, and—slowly—to trust my body again. I found strength I didn’t know I had. And when the day finally came—the surgery, the healing, the second chance—I was terrified… but I was ready. Now, I’ve rebuilt life with new energy, deeper perspective, and lasting gratitude. If you’re facing the possibility of a transplant—or navigating the emotional weight of that decision—you are not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about your journey and what healing could look like for you.

Navigating life after a breast cancer diagnosis

Kelly S.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of 2022, everything changed—fast. I was in graduate nursing school, still teaching, and actively working as an RN during the tail-end of the pandemic. Suddenly, I had to step away from all of it. The diagnosis was overwhelming, and facing a left breast mastectomy was something I couldn’t have imagined just months earlier. The recovery was not just physical—it shook me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I leaned hard into therapy, dug deep into self-reflection, and began reconstructing my life from a place of compassion and clarity. Now, over two years cancer-free, I’m focused on building something new as a nurse entrepreneur and advocate. I don’t pretend it was easy—it wasn’t. But I learned how to show up for myself in a way I never had before. If you’re facing a diagnosis, in treatment, or just coming out the other side, I’d be honored to hold space for you. You don’t have to go through it alone.

cultivating a healthy marriage while living with mental illness

Adley H.

Being married while living with mental illness adds layers most people never see. It’s not just about love—it's about learning how to stay connected through depression, anxiety, trauma, and all the unpredictable shifts that come with them. It’s about trying to explain what’s going on inside when you don’t fully understand it yourself. It's about feeling guilt for how your illness impacts your partner, while also needing space and compassion to survive another day. In my marriage, I’ve had to learn how to communicate in ways that are honest but not harmful. I’ve had to set boundaries not just for myself, but for the relationship. I’ve struggled with moments of disconnection, resentment, and fear—but I’ve also learned how powerful it is to grow together when both people are committed to understanding each other deeply. Mental illness doesn't make you unlovable, and it doesn’t mean your relationship is doomed. But it does require intentional work—on yourself, on communication, and on your shared vision of what love looks like when things are hard. If you’re trying to figure out how to stay grounded in your marriage while navigating your own inner battles, I’d love to talk. You’re not alone.

healing from drug addiction and rebuilding your life

Adley H.

I started using drugs when I was 13—first cannabis and alcohol, then eventually harder substances like ecstasy, MDMA, and cocaine. For over a decade, drugs were how I coped with pain, trauma, and grief I didn’t know how to face. I thought I was escaping, but I was really burying myself under layers of hurt I didn’t yet have the tools to process. After years of spiraling and a drug-induced psychosis that shook me to my core, I made the decision to quit cold turkey in 2021. Recovery wasn’t a clean, linear path—it was painful, raw, and real. I had to relearn who I was without the numbing. I had to sit with everything I’d been running from. And I had to rebuild my nervous system, my sense of self, and my trust in life. I’ve supported my recovery with nearly two decades of therapy, mindfulness, and inner work. I’ve faced down the realities of complex PTSD, depression, anxiety, and chronic illness—all of which were entangled in my addiction story. But most importantly, I’ve learned that healing is possible. Not perfect. Not easy. But deeply, beautifully real. I’m here for anyone walking that terrifying, courageous path toward sobriety—whether you're just beginning or have been in recovery for years.

navigating your mental health with compassion, strength, and support

Holley B.

For years, my mental health was like a storm I was expected to weather alone. I lived with the weight of PTSD, anxiety, depression, and trauma — often while trying to show up for others, keep a roof over my head, or pretend I was “fine.” On top of it all, I was navigating sobriety, chronic illness, and the emotional wreckage of abuse and loss. What I didn’t know back then was that struggling doesn’t mean I’m broken. It means I’ve been through things that require care — not shame. Over time, I learned how to advocate for my needs, recognize when I was in survival mode, and build mental health routines that actually supported me, not just masked symptoms. Mental health is a journey — not a checklist. And if you’re somewhere in the middle of that journey, I want you to know you don’t have to figure it all out alone. Whether you’ve been dismissed, misdiagnosed, or overwhelmed, I’d be honored to talk with you about how to find your way forward.

Parenting during mental health recovery and personal growth

Suzie K.

After I was diagnosed, the complexity and intensity of my emotions were overwhelming. I felt there was only one path forward for me to an unexplored territory with no end in sight. On top of working on becoming a healthier version of myself, I found that parenting at the same time has its unique challenges while feeling spread too thin. I had to reduce my stress levels and place firm personal boundaries to take basic care of myself, but I found it particularly difficult communicating my boundaries to my young daughter while supporting her needs at the same time. I felt stuck thinking I was a bad mom while also losing my sense of self. Through the years in therapy, learning and practicing new skills, overcoming my fears, and opening up to introspective mom friends, I finally saw the end of the tunnel. I was becoming a better version of myself that I did not think was possible. I feel more connected to my community and to myself. I wish I could tell you it was all smooth sailing – because it sure wasn’t. I still made it through and I know you can too with any challenges that you might be facing. If you need someone to talk to who might understand, I’m right here.

managing diabetes and weight

Sunny H.

In college, I gained the freshman 15 and never really stopped. For years it was skipping meals, grabbing on the go unhealthy options, and late night snacking. I was building my career and then had 2 small children to raise. My health was suffering in many ways including poor eating and sleeping habits. When I decided I needed to feel better and stop living on coffee, fast food, and 11pm bowls of cereal, I threw my self into learning everything and I tried it all. Low Fat, Low Carb, Intermittent Fasting, Cardio, Weight Lifting, Meal Prep, Supplements, even Lap Band Surgery. All of it was temporary and felt like a battle of wills. Then came the diagnosis ... diabetes. Then my dad's diabetes got out of control and he was on dialysis. Then he died from complications of the disease. I promised my kids I would never let them sit next to me and keep me company for 4 hours while I was hooked up to a machine cleaning my blood because my kidneys couldn't anymore. Today I only focus on one number and it isn't the scale ... it's my blood sugar.

Reconnecting with people when you're afraid to get close

Solangel J.

After a near-death experience as a teenager due to a heart condition, I started quietly pushing people away. I didn’t want to lose anyone else or be the one who left them behind. It felt safer to stay distant, even though deep down, I was lonely. I carried that fear into adulthood without realizing it, convincing myself that needing people was dangerous. It wasn’t until much later, after talking with a counselor, that I learned my fear was a natural response to trauma, not some flaw I had to "fix." Healing didn’t happen in a grand, cinematic moment. It came in small risks: answering a phone call, saying yes to a coffee invite, letting someone really know me without rushing to build an exit plan. I saw this same fear show up years later in a coworker who survived a terrible car accident. They started missing work, shutting everyone out. Because I had lived it, I knew how to sit with them without pushing, and help them find their own way back to connection. If you're feeling stuck between wanting closeness but being scared of it, you’re not broken—and you’re not alone.

Finding hope through mental health challenges and sobriety

Celso Y.

In my early 20s, I was working long, stressful hours in retail and started drinking heavily on the weekends just to cope. It wasn’t long before I began experiencing hallucinations and was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. Accepting that diagnosis was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. On top of that, alcohol had already been a big presence in my life—my mom is a recovering alcoholic, and many family relationships were strained because of drinking. After years of struggling, I made the decision to get sober in 2020 and committed to therapy and peer support groups. Every day, I work at maintaining my mental health and sobriety. I still deal with the effects of cerebral palsy and mental health challenges, but I've found that helping others, especially my family and peers in support groups, gives me purpose. I believe deeply that no matter how heavy life feels, there is always a way forward.

Navigating chronic illness and depression as a spiritually curious AFAB person

Andrea N.

There was a time when my body and mind felt like strangers to me. Living with chronic health conditions stripped me of energy, purpose, and clarity, and led me into a spiral of depression so deep I began to question whether I wanted to continue at all. I was far from home, an immigrant in the U.S., dealing with a divorce, financial instability, and a healthcare system that didn’t seem to understand me. What saved me wasn’t one big moment, but many small, sacred ones: a daily meditation practice rooted in Buddhism and Vedic teachings, quiet journaling sessions, film as a form of soul expression, and a slow, beautiful reawakening of my inner child. Over time, I realized I didn’t need to fight my reality—I needed to learn from it. Now, I help other AFAB folks who are curious about spirituality but feel overwhelmed by their pain or mental health. I know what it’s like to feel invisible in systems not built for you. And I’m here to help you remember that you’re not broken—you’re becoming.

building habits with accountability, not shame

Christine D.

Starting something new always sounds great—until Day 3 hits and suddenly your bed, your snacks, or your scrolling habit wins. I’ve been there. I’ve tried to wake up at 6am like a productive queen, journal like I’m the main character, eat clean, stretch daily, drink enough water to hydrate a cactus—and guess what? I still fell off. Multiple times. (And yes, I still forget to drink water like it’s a full-time job.) What I realized is: I wasn’t lazy or unmotivated. I just needed a witness to my goals. Someone to say, “Hey, didn’t you want to do that thing?” without making me feel like a failure. Someone who could laugh with me and call me in, not out. Now, I’m that person—for myself, and for others. The hype buddy. The accountability partner with good vibes and zero shame. Because sometimes you don’t need a coach—you need someone who gets it when you say, “I just couldn’t today,” but who’ll still nudge you tomorrow. If you’re trying to start (or re-start) a habit and your willpower keeps ghosting you, I’m here. Let’s talk about what you’re building—and build it together, one non-judgy check-in at a time.

Moving forward after a major health or hormonal shift

Sami C.

A few years ago, I went through a significant health shift that left me feeling physically exhausted, mentally drained, and emotionally overwhelmed. Between managing my health, hormonal imbalances, and the challenges that came with it, I found myself questioning what I was capable of and how to move forward. I had to find new ways of living, eating, exercising, and even thinking about myself in a way that prioritized my body’s needs and took into account my mental and emotional well-being. This transition was especially challenging as I navigated post-surgical recovery and the emotional impacts of major physical changes. But it also became an opportunity to deeply understand my body, learn how to care for it in a more balanced way, and discover new practices to restore my energy, vitality, and sense of self. Whether it’s a major health diagnosis, a hormonal shift like menopause, or any other physical change that’s throwing you off balance, I know how frustrating it can be to feel like you’re no longer in control of your own body. I’ve walked through this journey of reclaiming my energy, health, and mindset—and I’d love to help guide you through this new chapter, empowering you to trust your body, embrace the change, and move forward with a renewed sense of strength and confidence.

managing diabetes and weight

Sunny H.

In college, I gained the freshman 15 and never really stopped. For years it was skipping meals, grabbing on the go unhealthy options, and late night snacking. I was building my career and then had 2 small children to raise. My health was suffering in many ways including poor eating and sleeping habits. When I decided I needed to feel better and stop living on coffee, fast food, and 11pm bowls of cereal, I threw my self into learning everything and I tried it all. Low Fat, Low Carb, Intermittent Fasting, Cardio, Weight Lifting, Meal Prep, Supplements, even Lap Band Surgery. All of it was temporary and felt like a battle of wills. Then came the diagnosis ... diabetes. Then my dad's diabetes got out of control and he was on dialysis. Then he died from complications of the disease. I promised my kids I would never let them sit next to me and keep me company for 4 hours while I was hooked up to a machine cleaning my blood because my kidneys couldn't anymore. Today I only focus on one number and it isn't the scale ... it's my blood sugar.

Finding hope after hitting rock bottom

Ashley L.

I started using alcohol at the age of 14 as a way to cope with the grief of losing my grandmother, who was my primary caregiver. With no one to support me, I struggled to deal with the emotions, and my substance use spiraled from alcohol to opioids and cocaine. By the time I was 26, I had lost almost everything—school, jobs, relationships, and my self-respect. I realized I had reached rock bottom and couldn’t continue living that way. My journey to recovery wasn’t immediate. I was in and out of 12-step programs for over a year before I finally entered inpatient treatment and sober living in early 2022. That 30-day program, followed by an additional 30 days in sober living, gave me the stability I desperately needed. Over time, I rebuilt my life—getting a job, saving money, and even enrolling in college. Today, I’m in a healthy, loving relationship that has renewed my faith in myself and in relationships. I now realize that hitting rock bottom wasn’t the only way to change, and I’m committed to helping others recognize the signs of when their current path isn’t working and take steps toward healing before it gets too late.

Shifting focus from weight and appearance to energy and self-care

Carrie M.

For most of my life, my relationship with food, movement, and my body was driven by control and perfectionism. I believed that “being healthy” meant following rigid rules—counting calories, exercising to earn rest, and chasing a body that was never quite good enough. Every mirror check or skipped workout became a referendum on my worth. I wasn’t trying to feel better; I was trying to be better—according to someone else’s idea of what health and success looked like. But over time, that constant pressure began to unravel me. I was physically exhausted, emotionally disconnected, and mentally consumed by numbers and body image. I realized that I had been using routines to mask deeper discomfort—avoiding stillness, shame, and the fear of not being enough if I let go. The turning point came when I started listening to my body instead of managing it like a project. I learned to move for joy, to eat with presence, and to rest without guilt. Now, I define health more holistically: it’s about feeling at home in myself, not fixing myself. It’s honoring my needs, not overriding them. It’s recognizing that my body is not a problem to solve but a partner to care for. If you’ve ever felt trapped in cycles of “shoulds” around your weight or routines, you’re not alone—and there’s another way forward.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

Jamie H.

Hello, my name is Jamie Henkin and I’m a Certified Peer Support Specialist. I experienced mild depression as a young child and it seemed to increase along with added anxiety as I grew older. I noticed it having a profound effect in and on my life as I entered my 30’s. I wasn’t as knowledgeable about healthy coping skills back then as I am now. Over the last 25 years, I used therapy and prescription medications to cope with my anxiety and depression, though not consistently. Unfortunately, in stressful times, when I couldn’t manage my symptoms, I turned to drug and alcohol use, which led me to hit rock bottom three times. All of these periods, included suicidal ideations, and two of them alcohol related consequences. Several months ago, I spent 30 days in a residential treatment center which saved my life and taught me healthy coping skills. It’s my goal to pass on my knowledge to you in the hopes that you can heal as well.

Quitting alcohol after years of on-and-off drinking

Louise H.

I started struggling with anorexia, OCD, depression, and anxiety as a teenager, which led me to outpatient and inpatient treatment before college. Drinking entered my life around 19 or 20 and, at first, it felt like it helped ease my eating issues and anxiety. I didn’t see myself as having a problem, even when I dropped out of college after two years. Through my twenties and thirties, alcohol became a crutch I would return to, especially when life got overwhelming. Being a stay-at-home mom in a place I didn’t love, feeling isolated and stuck, made things worse. By 2016, my drinking was out of control again and my mental health was spiraling. In 2019, after a move to Florida and a month of drinking alone, I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I was done. I got sober that May and have stayed sober ever since. Art, writing, and connecting with others in recovery have helped me heal. Today, I lead a large online sobriety support group and love helping others find their way to a better life too.

Managing a gluten-free diet for yourself or your family

Roslyn D.

As a dietitian, I have extensive experience working with individuals and families to adapt to a gluten-free lifestyle, particularly for those managing Celiac Disease. When my adult daughter was diagnosed with Celiac, it was a challenging transition for our entire family, especially when it came to meal planning and adjusting to new eating habits. I’ve also supported my granddaughter, who has sensory food issues, in navigating her dietary restrictions. Through these experiences, I’ve developed a deep understanding of the emotional and logistical challenges that come with living gluten-free, especially when it’s a necessity for health. I can help you navigate the complexities of maintaining a balanced diet, find safe food options, and manage the day-to-day challenges of adhering to a gluten-free lifestyle, whether for yourself, your child, or a loved one.

Staying active and grounded through pregnancy changes

Nancy N.

When I was pregnant, I got a lot of advice some helpful, some just plain confusing. I’ve always been passionate about fitness, especially weightlifting, so being told not to lift more than 50 pounds felt like a punch to my identity. I wasn’t reckless, but I needed support that actually fit me, not just general rules. I had to figure out what worked for my body and how to adapt smartly. At the same time, I was working a demanding job in tech and trying to plan for a future that suddenly included way more unknowns (and diapers). I ended up talking to friends, moms, even strangers at the gym who’d been through it, and that’s when things clicked: this journey doesn’t have to be solo. One woman I met was pregnant and in pain, frustrated that she couldn't move like she used to. I shared my story, recommended a pelvic floor therapist, and later she told me it changed everything. That felt amazing. I’ve also helped other new moms in my gym community find resources and reclaim their confidence postpartum.

Shifting your self-identity to break free from pornography addiction

Ben E.

Addiction can feel like a part of you that’s impossible to shake. For years, I turned to pornography to cope with deeper insecurities. It started as a way to escape, but it soon became a prison. I realized that to truly break free, I had to stop seeing myself as someone who “needed” the addiction. The turning point came when I reached out to my parents and my bishop, and I took the bold step to join a recovery group. With the help of a therapist, I started to rebuild my life. I learned that true freedom comes not just from breaking the habit but from changing the way you view yourself. I had to believe that I was worthy of love, success, and freedom without relying on the addiction. This shift in self-identity was the key to my recovery, and I’ve helped others do the same. By coaching people through this process, I guide them to understand that their identity isn’t defined by their addiction, and that they have the power to create a new, healthier narrative about who they are.

Knowing when it’s time to leave a relationship (romantic and with alcohol)

Marcy S.

I stayed too long. Not just in one relationship, but in a few. I told myself things would get better, that I could fix it, that I was the problem. After a 17-year marriage ended in infidelity, I felt completely lost and unlovable. I drank to cope, remarried, and kept drinking. Then came a narcissist who used, lied, manipulated, and eventually tried to kill me. By the time I realized I had to leave, I was trauma bonded, emotionally exhausted, and terrified. But I did leave. I found a domestic violence shelter, got sober in rehab, and slowly began piecing myself back together. I know how hard it is to leave, especially when your sense of self is tangled up in trying to make it work. But I also know this: you don’t have to wait until you’ve lost everything to walk away. If you’re wondering whether it’s time to go, let’s talk. I’ve been there.

surviving homelessness and rebuilding your life from the ground up

Holley B.

There was a time when I had no home — no safe place to sleep, no privacy, and no idea how I was going to survive another day. Homelessness stripped me of everything I thought defined me. It left me exposed, judged, and emotionally wrecked. What most people don’t understand is that homelessness isn’t just about losing a roof over your head — it’s about the crushing weight of invisibility, the constant danger, the trauma of not knowing where you belong. For me, it came after years of abuse, addiction, and heartbreak. And it was one of the most humbling, terrifying seasons of my life. But it was also the beginning of a rebuilding I never thought possible. I clawed my way back — through recovery, healing, faith, and sheer grit. I rebuilt my life brick by brick, not just externally, but internally. Today, I carry the strength of someone who’s been at the bottom and made her way home — to herself. If you’re in that place now — or trying to heal from what you survived — I want to talk with you. I see you. I believe in your ability to rise.

Healing after domestic violence, rebuilding after homelessness, and finding your community

Shania B.

Hi, I’m someone who believes deeply in the power of community and second chances. I’m polyamorous and currently in a relationship, and I’m working toward earning my Peer Recovery Specialist certification so I can continue helping others on their mental health journeys. I’ve been through some tough experiences, including domestic violence and periods of homelessness. For a while, I isolated myself, but reaching out for support changed everything. Through therapy and peer support groups, I was able to shift my mindset, heal from trauma, and rebuild my life with community at the center. Today, I’m passionate about providing a safe, nonjudgmental space for others who are navigating loneliness, relationship challenges, or recovery from trauma. Healing isn’t linear, but having someone walk alongside you can make all the difference—and I’m honored to be that person for anyone who needs it.

Navigating relationship challenges after moving in together

James S.

About eight years ago, I moved in with my partner after a few years of dating, and while we were excited, it didn’t take long for new tensions to emerge. Simple things like chores, schedules, and unspoken expectations quickly turned into major arguments that neither of us saw coming. At one point, it felt like we were constantly fighting about things that should have been easy. Over time, we realized we needed clearer communication and shared agreements to make things work. We sat down, divided responsibilities based on what we each preferred or handled best, and created a system where we could ask for help without resentment building up. It wasn’t perfect overnight, but slowly we built trust and understanding in new ways. Working through those moments made our relationship stronger, and I'm passionate about helping others feel less alone when facing similar transitions. Moving in together can be beautiful—and messy—and it’s okay to need help along the way.

Navigating single motherhood and custody battles

Linzi J.

Becoming a single mom wasn’t something I planned, and nothing really prepares you for the weight of it—especially when you’re also fighting for custody. For four years, I was in and out of court, constantly trying to keep it together for my daughter while dealing with the stress and uncertainty of not knowing what would happen next. At the same time, I had just moved to a new city where I didn’t know anyone, and everything felt unfamiliar. I had to rebuild my life from the ground up, without a support system close by. It was hard, really hard. I leaned on therapy, phone calls with family, and my faith to get through it. Some days I was just surviving. But over time, things shifted. I was granted full custody, and my daughter and I started counseling together. I slowly started making connections and building community in my new city. I’ve learned how to be both soft and strong, how to listen to myself and to my child, and how to ask for help without shame.

Relationship challenges and fostering understanding

Loretta H.

At 19, I moved in with my girlfriend, even though it wasn’t the best situation for me. Despite the challenges we faced, I remained calm and focused on showing empathy and understanding. I took the time to listen to her side and offered advice whenever I could, always trying to keep the peace and make the situation better. My journey has led me to work in peer support, where I have continued to use these skills to help others navigate difficult situations. In my role at a community service board, I’ve visited homes to counsel individuals, offering them a listening ear and guidance through their struggles. Through all of this, I’ve learned how important it is to approach tough situations with empathy and a willingness to understand the other person’s perspective. Now, I’m here to offer the same support to others who are facing challenges in their relationships, whether they’re navigating difficult living situations, co-parenting, or trying to heal from past struggles.

Rebuilding your life after addiction, homelessness, and loss

Michael P.

I’m a Veteran and a father who spent years living with active addiction, lost everything, and found my way back through recovery. For two decades, I struggled with alcohol and substance use—trying to hold my family together while my own life felt increasingly out of control. Eventually, I lost my marriage, my children, and my home. I ended up a homeless Veteran, unsure how to move forward. The turning point came when a man from the VA connected me with Mental Health Services and helped me understand that I had a Substance Use Disorder. That diagnosis—and the acceptance that came with it—gave me the foundation to heal. Through the VA, therapy, 12-step programs, and peer support, I’ve spent the last 15+ years rebuilding my life. Today, I work to help others find the same hope, clarity, and strength to move forward. Whether you’re just starting your recovery journey or feeling stuck somewhere along the way, I'm here to walk alongside you.

Finding peace and contentment through God

Mason I.

I’ve been through a lot in my life—substance use, legal troubles, and homelessness—before experiencing a full recovery and spiritual awakening. My journey taught me the value of self-reflection, the importance of healthy relationships, and the power of faith. After years of working in addiction treatment, I’ve learned how crucial it is to understand attachment styles, healthy communication, and self-love. For years, I struggled in toxic relationships, but in my early 30s, I began learning about codependency and attachment styles, which has transformed the way I relate to others. My close relationship with God has been central to my healing, and I believe that the love I receive from Him forms the foundation for building healthy, fulfilling relationships. I truly believe that healing and growth are possible for everyone, no matter their past. I’m here to share my experiences, tools, and encouragement to help others walk their own path to recovery and healthy relationships.

Leaving an abusive relationship and starting over somewhere new

Yolanda W.

I stayed longer than I should have in an abusive relationship because my sense of stability was completely tied to him - at first. I had four children, but none of them his, thankfully! I didn't have family support. I kept telling myself that it couldn't possibly be as bad as I thought, and if we just had one more good day, maybe it would stick. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t love. I knew better! I'd watched my mom endure a 15-years-long abusive marriage; I wasn't her... The turning point came when I asked myself who I loved more—him, or my kids. I wanted better for them. I didn’t want them growing up thinking abuse was normal. So I left. I moved us to a completely new city where I didn’t know anyone. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But little by little, I rebuilt. I got honest about my pain. I know the violence of that last night left an indelible mark on my children's psyche, so I leaned on therapy, my faith, and the fire I still had inside. Now, I help others who are stuck in that same fear—because I know firsthand that starting over is scary, but staying in harm’s way is scarier.

Finding recovery after hitting rock bottom

Kadyn S.

I began drinking heavily while I was still in high school, trying to cope with an intense and unstable childhood. When I was kicked out as a minor for being queer, my drinking escalated even further. I spent around seven years experiencing homelessness, with alcohol and drugs becoming my constant companions. Eventually, substance use consumed my life completely, and I reached a point where I couldn’t go a single day without it. After several close calls with death, I entered treatment. Since leaving treatment in 2017, I’ve worked mindfully every day to maintain my recovery. It hasn’t been a straight line, but finding authentic connections, getting support, and learning to be honest with myself has been transformational. I’m here to offer support and understanding to anyone who feels like they’re starting over after everything has fallen apart.

interracial relationships, love, identity, and everything in between

Christine D.

Being in an interracial relationship can be beautiful—and complicated. It’s not just about two people loving each other; it’s about navigating two (or more) cultures, sets of experiences, and sometimes, two very different understandings of the world. I’ve been in those relationships where love was real, but the disconnect was too. The little things added up—the comments, the defensiveness, the lack of awareness. It wasn’t always intentional, but it still landed hard. And then there’s the outside noise—strangers staring, family not understanding, friends who don’t get the full picture. At times, I felt tired of explaining myself. Other times, I questioned if I was being “too sensitive.” But eventually, I learned how to speak up about what I needed—not just to be loved, but to be understood. I learned how to have the hard conversations about race, privilege, microaggressions, and cultural expectations. I learned that love alone isn’t always enough—but love plus emotional accountability? That’s powerful. If you're in an interracial relationship—or healing from one—and need a space to unpack all the thoughts, feelings, or frustrations, I’m here. Let’s talk about what it really means to love across lines that the world still hasn’t fully figured out how to hold.

breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

Overcoming alcohol addiction and rebuilding your life

McKenna W.

My struggle with alcohol began at 25 when I was in an abusive relationship. Instead of leaving, I turned to drinking to numb the pain and cope with the emotional turmoil. For three years, alcohol became my crutch, helping me avoid facing the reality of my life. After I finally left the relationship, I realized I couldn’t keep drinking. I experienced severe withdrawal symptoms, and it was a wake-up call. I entered rehab, first inpatient and then outpatient, for two months. While rehab helped, the real challenge was learning how to live without alcohol. I tried social drinking for a while, but soon realized it wasn’t an option for me. I made the decision to stop drinking altogether, and although I had relapses, I reminded myself each day of the progress I’d made. A year into sobriety, I knew I wanted to help others who were struggling with addiction. I’m now working toward my certification in chemical dependency counseling and leading health and wellness groups to guide others on their recovery journey.

Raising a child with mixed heritage in a complex world

Brittany K.

When I became a mom, I knew I'd be learning as I went, but I didn’t realize how layered that learning would be. My daughter is Afro-Latina, and from an early age, she began experiencing rejection from parts of her Latina family because of her skin color. Watching her wrestle with where she belonged while I was still learning how to support her identity was heartbreaking and humbling. We’ve had to navigate colorism, cultural confusion, and a world that loves to put people in boxes. As a Black woman, I had to figure out how to hold space for the parts of her experience that weren’t mine, while still affirming every part of who she is. I didn’t always get it perfect, but I’ve always tried to make our home a place where she could be fully herself, even when the world made her question that. Now, she’s in college, and I see how powerful it is for her to walk with pride in every part of her identity. I’ve learned how important it is to have conversations about belonging, bias, and self-love early and often. If you’re raising a child of mixed heritage and wondering how to best support them as they build confidence and navigate hard questions, you’re not alone. I’d love to talk.

Raising teens while balancing cultural values and modern life

Ronnie N.

When I became a dad, I knew parenting would be a journey — but raising three daughters in a culture different from my own brought its own special challenges. Coming from India, I held deep values around family, respect, and tradition, but I quickly learned I needed to listen and adapt as my daughters grew up in a very different environment. With my oldest daughter, I often felt torn between the way I was raised and the way she was experiencing the world. There were times I made mistakes, but I learned that open listening and constant love mattered more than rigid expectations. I also watched my brother struggle with harshness toward his kids and helped him see how a gentler approach could change everything. Through these experiences — and a lot of prayer and patience — I discovered how to raise strong, kind daughters without losing the heart of our family's faith and values. If you’re in the thick of parenting teens, trying to balance tradition and modern life, I’m here to listen and walk with you.

Navigating social life as a neurodivergent person

Ebony B.

Growing up as a first-generation American with Jamaican roots, I always felt a little out of sync with the world around me. I was the kid who asked “too many questions” and didn’t always pick up on unspoken social cues. At school, I felt like the weird one, and at home, I sometimes struggled to explain how I was feeling because emotional expression wasn’t really part of the conversation. My neurodivergence added another layer—reading people’s emotions was confusing, and I often worried I was doing something wrong without knowing what. I developed a habit of over-apologizing just to keep the peace, even if I hadn’t actually done anything. For years I masked my quirks to try and fit in, which only made me feel more alone. But over time, I started to embrace my way of moving through the world. I found that I thrive in friendships built around shared passions, even if they don’t follow traditional social “rules.” Now, I want to support others in discovering what authentic connection can look like for them—without needing to change who they are.

Rebuilding your life after divorce tied to health struggles

Debra H.

I got married at 20, and by 21 I was pregnant and facing devastating news: I had a rare vascular disease, and carrying a child could kill me. I had to make the painful decision to have a total hysterectomy, and not long after, my husband left. He couldn’t handle my health issues, and I was left grieving the loss of both a relationship and the future I had imagined. I’ve had over 55 surgeries in my life, and that period was one of the lowest. But I wasn’t done. I started my own transportation business—before Uber even existed—and threw myself into peer support work, helping others find their way through the dark. I’ve also lived through sexual assault, family mental illness, and the loss of a child, and I still continue my own therapy. My life hasn’t been easy, but I’ve rebuilt it on my own terms. If you’re feeling broken or abandoned because of something you never asked for, I’d love to talk.

Coping with the loss of a parent and supporting others through grief

Waseeq M.

I lost my father at a young age, and growing up in a single-parent household as the youngest of four siblings, I had to step up in ways I didn’t expect. I became the listener in the family, learning the importance of being there for others when they were struggling. My own grief journey was difficult, and it took me a while to understand how to process my emotions. Over time, though, I realized that my struggles could become a source of strength for others. As I volunteered with the Crisis Text Line, I supported people who were grieving or in emotional turmoil, including someone whose father was on life support. She was in deep denial and didn’t know how to navigate the situation. I helped her process her emotions and guided her through the steps of accepting the reality of her father’s condition. Through experiences like these, I’ve learned how vital it is to hold space for people, listen to their pain, and offer hope. Grief is a difficult journey, and if you’re feeling lost in it, I’m here to help you find your way through.

Navigating multicultural marriage

Alice Y.

I’ve always been independent, doing things my own way, but when I entered my multicultural marriage, I quickly learned that navigating different cultural backgrounds required me to adapt and grow. Growing up in Florida and living in places like Chicago and Alameda, I’m no stranger to change, but merging two distinct cultures in a relationship has been a unique journey. Every day brings new challenges, from understanding each other’s traditions and customs to finding common ground on how we communicate and approach conflict. There are moments of tension when we don’t see eye to eye, but we’ve learned to embrace our differences and use them as opportunities to learn and grow together. Over time, I’ve become more attuned to the nuances of our relationship, and I now approach each situation with patience, empathy, and a willingness to find creative solutions. What I’ve realized is that, while our cultures may shape us in different ways, our shared values and love for each other are what truly bind us. Through my own experience, I’ve gained valuable insights that I love to share with others in similar relationships—helping them navigate the complexities of cultural differences while building a deeper, more fulfilling connection with their partners.

Surviving a narcissistic marriage and finding love again

Dragana K.

I moved to the United States from Serbia with my ex-husband, who was a scientist pursuing his education. We started our family here, but over time, it became clear that he wasn’t as involved as I was. Our communication issues began to grow, and as the years passed, I started to recognize signs of narcissism in him. The verbal and emotional abuse took a toll on my self-esteem, and things got worse when he had an affair. The affair was incredibly painful, especially since we lived in a small town where everyone knew. The stress was overwhelming, and although we tried to reconcile, a family psychologist advised me to leave him. Two years later, I met my current husband, a psychologist, who helped me realize that I was a survivor of a narcissistic relationship. Now, I’m passionate about helping others who are navigating similar struggles, offering a compassionate ear and the support that I wish I had during those difficult times.

Midlife identity theft by my own hormones

Kari K.

Midlife isn't a crisis - it's a costume change. One day you're PTA president, the next you're questioning everything from your coffee order to your calling. I'll talk about how I found clarity in the chaos, let go of roles that didn't fit, and learned to wear my *quirky* on purpose.

Divorce after 30 years when your whole map gets redrawn

Kari K.

Thirty years. That's how long I was married before everything changed. Starting over wasn't just scary - it was disorienting. I'll share what it's like to grieve a shared life, rediscover your own voice, and build a brand-new story in a season you never expected.

Reinventing your career when you're stuck in the unknown

Andrea B.

I’ve changed careers multiple times across very different industries. Each shift started with the same feeling: stuck, uncertain, and unsure what the next step should be. I have left jobs without a clear plan, faced the silence after being forced to resign, and sat with the fear that I might never find something that felt right. The path was never linear. It involved a lot of false starts, doubt, and days when clarity felt completely out of reach. But through trial, reflection, and learning to listen to what I actually needed, I began to build a different way forward. I used tools like mindset work, personal awareness, and small experiments to create movement. Reinvention didn’t come from figuring everything out. It came from being willing to start where I was and take the next step anyway. Now, I support others who are facing the same stuckness and helping them find traction in the unknown.

Exploring philosophical approaches to self-growth and embracing imperfection

Mike C.

Can't tell you how often I chased a broken idea of self-improvement—becoming "better," eliminating flaws, and constantly striving for an ideal version of myself that felt out of reach. The more I pushed toward that impossible standard, the more disconnected I felt. But growth isn’t about perfection—it’s about exploration. We evolve not by erasing the parts of us we struggle with, but by understanding them, accepting them, and finding authentic ways to move forward. Philosophy has played a huge role in reshaping how I approach self-development, helping me see life less as a rigid path. It can be hard to navigate the tension between self-acceptance and wanting to grow—breaking free from unrealistic expectations and exploring self-reflection in a way that actually feels fulfilling. If you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt or felt like you’re "not enough," let’s take a step back. It doesn’t have to be about fixing—it can be about understanding and embracing the complexity of who you are.

Building resilience and self-compassion

Mike C.

I always thought resilience meant pushing through—gritting my teeth, swallowing feelings, and forcing myself to ‘just deal with it.’ But that left me drained and disconnected from myself. I’ve since learned that resilience isn’t just enduring struggles; it’s about adapting, processing, and allowing yourself the space to heal. Self-compassion was the hardest piece. I didn’t realize how much I held myself to unrealistic standards, expecting perfection where I should’ve offered myself grace. Over time, I started embracing the idea that strength isn’t about ignoring pain—it’s about acknowledging it and choosing how to move forward with care. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped others cultivate resilience in a way that feels sustainable—balancing the need for self-protection with the power of self-kindness. If you’ve ever felt like you’re being too hard on yourself or struggling to recover from challenges, I get it. Let’s explore ways to navigate life with strength and softness.

The search for purpose and direction while feeling lost

Mike C.

There were times in my life when I felt completely untethered—unsure of where I was headed, doubting whether I had anything meaningful to offer the world. I went through phases of chasing achievements, external validation, or whatever seemed like the ‘right’ next step, hoping it would give me a sense of purpose. But it never felt quite right. Eventually, I realized purpose isn’t something you stumble upon in a single moment—it’s something that evolves, shifts, and grows with you. It’s about understanding your values, what truly resonates with you, and how you want to engage with the world. And sometimes, the first step is simply allowing yourself the space to ask questions without pressure to have all the answers right away. Through peer support, I’ve helped others explore what purpose means to them—not as an obligation, but as a process of discovery. If you’re feeling stuck, uncertain, or lost in the "what’s next?" of life, I get it. Let’s take the time to navigate it together.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Getting sober after alcohol became your way of life

Adam A.

Drinking started off as fun something that helped quiet my mind and made life feel easier. I became a bartender, so it fit right into my world. But over time, it became how I dealt with everything: stress, loneliness, heartbreak. I lost a relationship I really cared about because of it, and when a family member passed, I hit one of the darkest points of my life. I tried Naltrexone, but what really changed things was realizing I just couldn’t live like that anymore. Getting sober wasn’t just about quitting it was about learning who I was without alcohol. That part was harder than I expected. But now, I’m clear-headed, present, and proud of how far I’ve come. If you’re questioning your relationship with drinking, I’ve been there and I’d be glad to talk through it with you.

life in the in-between

Ritika D.

There was a time in my life when everything felt paused. I was between jobs, unsure of my next step, watching others move forward while I sat still. People would say, “Something will come along,” but the waiting felt like slow erosion. My self-worth was tied to progress, and without it, I felt small. I learned how to sit with the discomfort, how to extract meaning from stillness, and how to build a life that didn’t depend on a clear next chapter. I began to ask myself deeper questions about purpose, identity, and what truly mattered.

Navigating relationship challenges across cultures

Kiran D.

My partner and I come from two different parts of India, and while we share a cultural background, the differences in our upbringings created more tension than I ever expected. When we first got together, everything felt aligned, but over time, challenges with our families—especially our parents—began to weigh heavily on us. There were misunderstandings, judgment, and stigma, especially around my choice to become a therapist. The disapproval wasn't always loud, but it was persistent. We even broke up for a while, unsure if love alone could bridge the cultural gap. But we found our way back, committed to not only each other but to doing the work. Through tough conversations, clearer boundaries, and lots of trial and error, we've rebuilt something stronger. I’ve also supported others in complex relationship situations—whether it was a client figuring out how to live in a car with her partner during financial hardship or navigating constant conflict. Relationships aren't a linear path, and love isn't always the hard part—it's everything else around it. I’d love to hold space for anyone working through similar issues.

Parenting without support, handling relationship stress, and finding yourself again

Sue D.

I’m a first-generation immigrant who has spent the last 25+ years building a life, raising a child, and working full-time in the U.S.—without the family support many people take for granted. I’ve faced the challenges of parenting in a new culture, managing a difficult marriage, coping with major setbacks like job loss and accidents, and finding my way back to balance after unhealthy coping mechanisms, including alcohol. Through it all, I’ve learned how powerful patience, self-awareness, and community can be. Whether you're struggling with parenting, relationships, life transitions, or sobriety, I’m here to listen without judgment, share what helped me, and most importantly, hear your story. I truly believe we learn and grow together.

Navigating cultural adjustment and building new roots as an immigrant parent

Samantha S.

I’m a Hispanic/Indigenous mom of two, originally from an immigrant family. Growing up as the youngest of 14 children, I saw my parents work hard to provide for us after moving to the U.S. From a young age, I experienced the challenges of being part of an immigrant family like learning how to adapt to a new culture, navigate language barriers, and adjust to life in a foreign country. My mother, a teacher, always emphasized the importance of education, which is how I began my journey toward earning a degree in education and later a master’s degree in social work. I became a mom at 18, and the challenges of balancing parenting, financial instability, and career advancement became even more complex. Through my work as a social worker, I’ve dedicated myself to helping other immigrant and marginalized families build their lives from the ground up. I understand what it’s like to feel disconnected from your cultural roots, to deal with homesickness, and to have to fight for your place in a system that doesn’t always make space for you. In my professional life, I’ve worked with families navigating the hurdles of cultural adjustment, language barriers, and building social capital. I’ve coached parents on how to gain financial stability, improve their career prospects, and overcome personal struggles. Having been through the immigrant experience myself, I strive to support others in their journey to find stability and empowerment in a new country, while still honoring their cultural heritage.

Parenting without support, handling relationship stress, and finding yourself again

Sue D.

I’m a first-generation immigrant who has spent the last 25+ years building a life, raising a child, and working full-time in the U.S.—without the family support many people take for granted. I’ve faced the challenges of parenting in a new culture, managing a difficult marriage, coping with major setbacks like job loss and accidents, and finding my way back to balance after unhealthy coping mechanisms, including alcohol. Through it all, I’ve learned how powerful patience, self-awareness, and community can be. Whether you're struggling with parenting, relationships, life transitions, or sobriety, I’m here to listen without judgment, share what helped me, and most importantly, hear your story. I truly believe we learn and grow together.

Immigrating to the U.S and creating a prosperous life

Jimmy E.

I was born in Quito, Ecuador, and raised in Miami. As the child of a single mom in a new country, I’ve faced my fair share of challenges that have shaped my perspective and fueled my passion for personal growth. With over eight years of experience in event management, business development, and training, I’ve developed skills in connecting with and empowering others. Now, as a father to a newborn and a stepdad to my daughter, I’m experiencing the unique challenges of fatherhood firsthand. I’ve also gained invaluable experience in building communication, compromise, and shared goals with my partner. Together, we’ve worked on setting boundaries to strengthen our relationship and support each other. I know how important it is to find balance in relationships, especially as a new parent, and I’m here to offer support to anyone navigating their own path, whether it’s in parenting, relationships, or personal growth.

Overcoming alcohol misuse and finding joy in sobriety

Abby B.

I’m a talkative, adventurous mom of two who has faced some tough challenges, including a decade of alcohol misuse. I started drinking heavily in my late 20s as a way to cope with trauma and stress, but over the next 10 years, it became a crutch I couldn’t escape. My drinking impacted everything—from my marriage and my kids’ emotional health to my own well-being. I had constant paranoia and even psychotic thoughts. The turning point came when I realized I couldn’t go on like this. I held my own intervention, asking my family for help, and admitted how deep my addiction had become. I went through intensive therapy, outpatient rehab, and regular support groups. Today, I’m proud to be sober and have been for over 2.5 years. I now use my experiences to help others who may be in the “gray area” of alcohol use or struggling with the decision to quit. Sobriety has given me back my joy, connection, and sense of adventure, and I’m here to support others in discovering that life without alcohol can be fulfilling and full of possibilities.

Finding sobriety while living with mental illness

Cristine “Talin” K.

At 16, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope with growing up in different group homes, trauma, anxiety, and pain I didn’t know how else to handle. For a long time, I was caught in a cycle of using and self-destruction, knowing deep down it wasn’t helping me but unsure of how to stop. In 2020, I made the decision to begin recovery, and that was the moment everything began to change. Through connection, peer support, and professional mental health services, I’ve been able to nurture my self-worth and find new ways to care for myself. I now work as a Peer Recovery Support Specialist and continue my own healing with weekly check-ins with my support team. Every conversation I have—whether I’m giving support or receiving it—helps me grow.

Maintaining a strong marriage while struggling with parenting

Shezada H.

I’ve been married for 13 years and together with my husband for 15, and while we’ve faced our share of challenges, one of our greatest strengths is our commitment to open communication and quality time together. Parenting two boys, one on the cusp of adolescence, has been both a joy and a challenge. I’ve struggled with things like postpartum depression, balancing discipline with bonding, and often dealing with mom guilt. But through counseling and a lot of self-reflection, I’ve learned how to set boundaries, actively listen, and prioritize my mental health, which has transformed my relationships at home. My husband and I have worked through building trust, intimacy, and resolving conflicts, and I’m passionate about helping others do the same. I’ve even co-hosted relationship goals groups with my husband to help couples strengthen their connection. I’m now pursuing a degree in clinical mental health counseling, and I would love to share what I’ve learned about balancing marriage and parenting while maintaining strong, supportive connections.

Navigating asexuality in a sexual world

Eli M.

For most of my life, I assumed I was bisexual because that’s what made sense based on how I was raised to think about attraction. But something never quite clicked. I didn’t feel desire the way others described it, and I often felt broken or left out in conversations about sex. Eventually, I realized I’m asexual—and suddenly, a lot of things made sense. I’ve experienced relationships where my lack of interest in sex was misunderstood, dismissed, or even used against me. It was isolating, especially as someone who is trans and neurodivergent, because I already felt like I had to explain myself constantly. But I’ve also had beautiful, affirming connections—queer-platonic relationships, deep friendships, and forms of intimacy that had nothing to do with sex. These experiences helped me embrace that intimacy can look different for everyone and that I deserve connection that honors who I am. Now, I support others who are discovering their asexual identity, figuring out what intimacy means to them, and navigating relationships in a world that often centers sex as the default.

Surviving the emotional fallout after discovering your partner’s affair

Alex H.

I’ve been married for over a decade, but my partner and I have been together for more than 20 years. Therapy has been a huge help in improving our communication and navigating tough times. I also helped a close friend through a painful moment when they discovered their partner’s emotional affair. It was a shock for them, feeling like they weren’t enough, and they were ready to walk away. I encouraged them to take a step back, process their emotions, and focus on what they needed in the relationship. Through open conversations, they were able to understand that the affair was a symptom of deeper issues, not a reflection of their worth. Eventually, they chose to rebuild their trust and work through it together. They’re in a stronger place now.

Untangling the effects of early relationship trauma

Mariah S.

For years, I didn’t realize how much early relationship trauma shaped the way I connected with others. It led to unhealthy patterns, self-blame, and difficulty setting boundaries. I avoided addressing the root cause for a long time, thinking I could handle it on my own. Eventually, with support and structure, I began to heal. I learned to validate my emotions and let go of the belief that I was always “the problem.” Now, I offer that same support to others—creating a space where people feel seen, heard, and empowered to move forward.

Finding purpose after surviving domestic and/or sexual trauma

Jillian W.

After surviving domestic violence, I knew I needed to rebuild my life with intention. The pain and confusion I experienced pushed me to find a career that would not only heal me but also help others heal. I found support through people who believed in me, and that made all the difference. Motivated by my own experiences, I pursued a path in sex education and relationship coaching, and eventually earned my doctorate. Over the past 13 years, I’ve worked with individuals and organizations around the world, helping people reconnect with their passion, purpose, and pleasure. My journey taught me that rebuilding after trauma is not just possible—it can lead to a life richer and more fulfilling than you imagined. I'm here to offer real, respectful support as you find your way forward too.

Navigating stress and balancing relationships

Nicole D.

I’ve spent much of my life juggling multiple roles—educator, author, and caregiver—and I’ve learned how easy it is to become overwhelmed by the weight of it all. Several years ago, I met a wonderful man, and that relationship taught me a lot about emotional intimacy. But as someone prone to overworking, my stress levels spiraled, triggering depression at times. Balancing my career with my responsibilities as a parent, while also dealing with my own mental health, was tough. There were moments when I felt completely drained, and as the strong friend, I had a hard time asking for help. The truth was, I needed someone to listen to me, but I was often the one holding space for others. I spent a lot of time reflecting and healing from this cycle. One of my most profound realizations was the importance of creating emotional space in relationships—not just for others but for myself, too.

Healing from emotional abuse and embracing sexual well-being

Malesha G.

After being in an emotionally abusive relationship, I found myself lost, questioning my worth, and struggling with the idea of love and intimacy. Therapy became my safe space, where I slowly began to untangle the years of hurt and learn how to communicate with myself in a healthier way. But what really shifted for me was diving into sex coaching. It wasn't just about understanding sexuality, it was about reclaiming my body, my desires, and my sense of empowerment. The more I learned, the more passionate I became about helping others do the same. I now guide individuals and couples in building deeper connections, whether it’s about sexual health, intimacy, or rediscovering themselves after trauma. It’s not always easy, but through patience, self-awareness, and open communication, I’ve seen firsthand how transformational healing can be. Now, I want to help others break through their own barriers, just like I did, and find freedom in their relationships, both with others and themselves.

Navigating miscommunication and building stronger connections in relationships

Lia S.

Throughout my life, I’ve experienced deeply loving romantic relationships that, while wonderful, just weren’t the right fit for me. Each experience taught me valuable lessons about love, self-awareness, and, most importantly, communication. In my current relationship, things didn’t start off smoothly—there was a miscommunication about what we each wanted, which led to a big blow-up and a breakup. However, we found our way back to each other and worked hard to improve our communication, increase transparency, and make sure we were on the same page. Through this journey, I’ve learned what works, what doesn’t, and how to create stronger, healthier relationships. Now, I’m studying to become a certified interpersonal relationship coach so I can help others navigate their own challenges in love and connection, helping them build meaningful, lasting relationships.

Reconnecting with yourself

Danielle B.

Hi! I’m a married mom of two—a one-year-old boy and a 16-month-old girl—and my husband and I have been together for nine years, married for six. Becoming a first-time parent during COVID changed everything. It was a time of isolation, uncertainty, and learning how to parent without the typical support systems in place. Since then, I’ve continued growing—both as a mom and as someone trying to find the right tools to support my son’s behavioral challenges. With over 15 years of experience working with children and families, I now help others as a Parent Educator, offering guidance, compassion, and evidence-based tools. I’m also a certified sexologist and sex coach, passionate about helping people feel empowered, connected, and informed in every aspect of their lives. Whether you’re trying to navigate toddlerhood, balance your relationship, or reconnect with your own identity, I’m here to support you with honesty and care.

breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

surviving the job market and navigating career ups and downs

Micah L.

I graduated from college in May 2020, right into the pandemic-era job market. I felt lucky to land a job just a few months later, but it quickly revealed itself to be a toxic environment. I was laid off that October, and a long stretch of underemployment and instability began. I didn’t find consistent full-time work again until September 2021. That second job felt like a lifeline, but after about a year and a half, I was laid off again—only to be re-hired a week later when they realized they needed me back. In the brief window of that layoff, I had already started interviewing for a new role. I kept going with the process and, after multiple rounds, landed a better job: one that came with a raise and opportunities to grow. I was then able to leave the company that had laid off and re-hired me. Since 2020, I’ve experienced firsthand how chaotic and unpredictable the job market can be. I’ve learned what it takes to stay afloat through layoffs, rejections, and burnout, and have developed strategies for applications, interviews, and finding the confidence to keep going. If you’re feeling defeated by job searching, know that you’re not alone. I’m here to share practical advice and remind you that your worth is not defined by your employment status.

Job interview preparation

Carrie M.

I used to dread job interviews more than anything else in my career. My palms would sweat, my mind would go blank, and I'd walk out of interviews knowing I hadn't shown my best self. I'd replay every stumbled answer and awkward pause for days afterward. Despite having solid experience and qualifications, I felt like I was failing at the one thing that mattered most—actually getting the job. The breakthrough came when I realized that interviewing is a skill you can develop, not just a talent you're born with. I started treating interviews like conversations rather than interrogations. I learned to prepare stories that showcased my experience, developed techniques to manage my nerves, and discovered how to turn my anxiety into focused energy. Most importantly, I figured out how to be authentically myself while still being professional and polished. Through multiple interviews across different industries and roles, I've learned what actually works—and what doesn't. I've experienced everything from panel interviews to video calls to informal coffee chats, and each taught me something new about connecting with interviewers and presenting my value. Now I walk into interviews feeling prepared and confident, knowing I can handle whatever comes my way. If you're dreading your next interview or feeling like you're not showing up as your best self, I've been exactly where you are.

Creating a job search plan that actually fits your life and goals

Carrie M.

I've been where you are—staring at job boards, feeling overwhelmed by endless applications, and wondering if I'm doing everything wrong. During my own career transitions, I thought job searching was just about submitting resumes and hoping for the best. I'd apply to dozens of positions online, rarely hearing back, and feeling more discouraged with each rejection or silence. The whole process felt like throwing darts in the dark. The turning point came when I realized I needed to approach job searching strategically, not desperately. Through trial and error—and yes, plenty of rejections—I discovered that finding the right opportunities isn't just about what you know, but who you know, how you present yourself, and where you actually look. I learned to leverage networking in ways that felt authentic, figured out how to make job boards work for me, and discovered the hidden job market that most people never tap into. The journey taught me that job searching is a skill set in itself—one that no one really teaches you. I went from dreading the process to feeling confident and strategic about it. Now I help others navigate their searches using the real-world tactics that actually work. If you're feeling stuck, sending applications into the void, or unsure where to start, I've been there. The good news? There's a better way, and you don't have to figure it out through trial and error like I did.

Job interview preparation as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

Job interviews used to make me feel like I had to become someone else just to be taken seriously. I’d spend hours rehearsing ‘the right’ answers, trying to make perfect eye contact, overthinking every gesture, and wondering if I was saying too much—or not enough. I thought that if I could just play the part well enough, I might get through it. But the truth is, I wasn’t just nervous—I was masking. As someone with ADHD and autism, the traditional interview process wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was exhausting. I’d leave interviews feeling like I’d run a marathon… and not in a good way. It felt like I had to prove I was capable despite how my brain works, instead of because of it. Over time, I’ve learned how to prepare in ways that work for me. I’ve practiced advocating for my needs (even when it felt awkward), gotten better at recognizing which environments are actually a good fit, and started owning my strengths instead of trying to hide or over-explain them. Now, I approach interviews with a lot more self-trust and a lot less pressure to be someone I’m not. It doesn’t mean I don’t still get anxious—but I’ve got tools, scripts, and strategies that help me show up authentically and clearly. And you can too.

Reclaiming your confidence after a toxic job experience

Angela V.

I once left a job that looked amazing on the outside—but behind closed doors, it was chaotic, unkind, and eroding my self-worth. I questioned my judgment, second-guessed every decision, and carried a quiet shame about what had happened. Leaving was only the beginning of healing. I had to unpack what I experienced, untangle my identity from the toxic culture, and remind myself of who I really was. It wasn’t instant, but with reflection, support, and new opportunities, I began to feel strong again. If you’ve walked away from a painful work environment, you’re not alone—and it’s not your fault. Let’s talk about how to process what you’ve been through and rebuild your confidence moving forward.

Learning to become your own best friend

Angelo F.

For years, I was my own worst critic. I judged myself harshly, compared myself to others, and silenced my inner voice with substances. I didn’t realize how deep my self-abandonment ran until I began the healing process. The turning point came when I learned that no one else could give me the love I was starving for—not in a lasting way. I had to learn how to offer it to myself first. In recovery, I began treating myself like someone I actually cared about. I practiced speaking kindly to myself. I explored therapeutic art, forgiveness practices, and daily rituals to reconnect with the parts of me that had been ignored or shamed. Slowly, I began to like myself—and eventually, I became my own best friend. This wasn’t just a mindset shift—it was a full transformation in how I related to myself. I stopped abandoning myself when things got hard. I stood by myself in the storm, and that’s what helped me thrive.

Reclaiming your confidence after a toxic job experience

Angela V.

I once left a job that looked amazing on the outside—but behind closed doors, it was chaotic, unkind, and eroding my self-worth. I questioned my judgment, second-guessed every decision, and carried a quiet shame about what had happened. Leaving was only the beginning of healing. I had to unpack what I experienced, untangle my identity from the toxic culture, and remind myself of who I really was. It wasn’t instant, but with reflection, support, and new opportunities, I began to feel strong again. If you’ve walked away from a painful work environment, you’re not alone—and it’s not your fault. Let’s talk about how to process what you’ve been through and rebuild your confidence moving forward.

beginning your drug and alcohol recovery with your partner

Brandi S.

My struggles with drugs started when I was just a teenager. Over the years, I used a variety of substances, and despite my family’s efforts to help me—sending me to treatment programs—things got worse. When I became pregnant, something shifted in me, and I found the strength to get clean. I stayed sober for 20 years while raising my three kids, but after a few deeply painful events, I spiraled into depression. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and during that time, I relapsed hard—cocaine, meth, heroin—anything I could get. What changed everything was meeting the man who would become my husband. He was also struggling with addiction, and together, we decided to fight for our recovery. We leaned on each other, showed up for one another, and started rebuilding our lives. Today, we’re both clean, happily married, and I offer support to others who are walking through similar pain and hope.

how a Psychiatric Advanced Directive (PAD) can help you advocate for yourself

Tim G.

I spent two years of my young adulthood in and out of psychiatric hospitals, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. During that time, I felt swallowed by depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of painful relationships that left me unsure if I’d ever feel free again. I was constantly cycling through crisis, often misunderstood, and sometimes silenced in the very systems that were supposed to help. Then I discovered Psychiatric Advanced Directives (PADs), and everything started to shift. I’ve used PADs to express my wishes, protect my rights, and bring my care team—my psychologist, naturopath, even legal support—into alignment. I’ve rewritten my PAD more times than I can count, especially after triggering experiences, because I’ve learned how powerful it is to state clearly what I need before a crisis hits. Creating a PAD has helped me not only stay safe but also stay connected to who I am, even in my hardest moments. Now, I want to help others do the same. If you’re navigating mental health challenges and want to build a plan that supports the practical imagination of frameworking for your own #ThisAbility, I’d love to walk you through what PADs are and how they can support your freedom, safety, and care.

Rebuilding your life and setting real goals after incarceration

Vanessa S.

When I got out of prison after a year and a half, I had nothing. I lost my home, my career, and my professional license. I was released on an ankle monitor and didn’t even have a place to go. I had to start completely over with no safety net, no roadmap, and no idea what was next. It was terrifying. I went from having stability to sleeping wherever I could and trying to figure out how to make something of myself again. But I didn’t give up. I found my way step by step. I discovered a new career path. I rebuilt my life from scratch. And now, over 12 years later, I’ve created something solid and I want to help others do the same.

Navigating the challenges of 50/50 custody and single fatherhood

Joe K.

When my ex-wife and I separated, I had no idea what I was in for. We’d been together for years, and suddenly I found myself not only learning how to be a dad but how to be a dad alone. I was excluded from many of the day-to-day parenting tasks before the divorce, and when it became just me and the kids, I had to quickly figure out everything from school drop-offs to diaper changes on my own. There were many late nights in Target, asking for help from random employees and buying things I didn’t understand, then returning them to get the right size. Despite the overwhelming challenges, I fought for 50/50 custody. The process was long, grueling, and emotionally draining. I dealt with lawyers, court hearings, and even investigations into emotional abuse. At the same time, I was committed to therapy to stay sane through it all. I learned a lot about myself, my children, and how to co-parent with my ex, who was often difficult to work with. But through perseverance, I secured the time and financial arrangements I’d fought for. Now, I’m a single dad navigating life after divorce, dating again, and blending families with my partner. If you’re struggling with custody battles, adjusting to single fatherhood, or figuring out how to be a good co-parent, I’m here to listen, share what I’ve learned, and help you find a way through.

Getting sober when everything feels lost

Nicole P.

I started using drugs when I was just 11 years old. For the next 25 years, addiction shaped my life—it brought trauma, rejection, and the heartbreaking loss of relationships, especially with my children. When my mom passed away, everything hit me like a tidal wave. I was estranged from my kids, at rock bottom, and felt completely alone. That’s when I entered a faith-based treatment program and stayed for a full year. It wasn’t easy, but that year gave me the foundation I needed. I’ve now been sober since August of 2017.

Loving someone through incarceration

Quiuna G.

In 2019, I married my soulmate, a man who, just a few months later, was incarcerated. I quickly realized that love doesn’t stop because of distance or barriers. It’s easy for others to tell you to "move on" or “it’s too hard,” but when you’ve chosen someone with your whole heart, you stand by them. Loving my husband while he’s incarcerated has taught me so much about patience, communication, and unconditional support. The hardest part isn’t just missing them physically—it’s managing the emotional toll it takes when you can’t be there in person to provide comfort during difficult times. I’ve had to learn how to navigate love through letters, phone calls, and occasional visits. It’s a different kind of relationship, one that requires vulnerability, a lot of faith, and a deep belief in the connection you share. Despite the separation, I’ve found ways to grow together spiritually and emotionally, and I’ve also learned how to manage the loneliness and challenges that come with it. For anyone facing the same situation, I’d love to offer a safe space to share, support, and find strength together.

Battling with alcohol and drug use and conquering sobriety

Jake M.

I started using alcohol and drugs as a teenager, thinking it was just part of having fun with friends. That lifestyle continued into my career in the restaurant industry, where drinking, drug use, gossip, and chaos felt normal. Over the years, I caught legal cases, had multiple car wrecks, two DUIs, and caused major strain in my family and professional life. After hitting bottom too many times, I decided to change and entered treatment in May of 2021. Since then, I’ve dedicated myself to recovery, completed my coursework to become a certified peer specialist, and am about to receive my state certification. I know how it feels to think you've gone too far to come back—and I also know it's never too late to start over. I’m here to offer real, honest support without judgment for anyone trying to rebuild after addiction.

Gaining the strength to overcome drug and alcohol addiction and take back your life

Veronica O.

I’m a woman in long-term recovery who understands the depths of addiction and the incredible strength it takes to rebuild your life. My journey began with alcohol in my teens, and over the years, it spiraled into decades of substance use, which cost me jobs, homes, and nearly my hope. At 39, after losing so much, I decided to seek help with the support of the justice system, and I’ve never looked back. As a single mother, I faced the heart-wrenching trauma of my child’s abuse, but through therapy and healing, we both found a path forward. I've also navigated the challenges of leaving a controlling marriage and discovering the strength that comes with independence. Today, I’m here to share my story and remind you that recovery is possible, and no one has to walk this journey alone. Along the way, I’ve survived the loss of both parents, supported my child through difficult times, and witnessed the miracle of my granddaughter defying the odds after being told she wouldn’t survive. I am passionate about helping others find the hope, strength, and support they need to heal.

Getting through probation after drug charges

Chelsea N.

When I got sober in 2023, I was still carrying the weight of three felony convictions and a long probation term for drug-related charges. It was overwhelming—I felt like no matter how much progress I made, my past was always going to define me. Probation felt intentionally hard: constant check-ins, random drug tests, financial burdens, and the pressure to be perfect. But I stuck with it. I showed up clean, paid off everything, did my community service, and eventually got off probation early. That didn’t happen because I was lucky—it happened because I changed how I showed up. I stopped seeing probation as punishment and started seeing it as a path toward rebuilding trust in myself. One of the most powerful things I learned was how to respond instead of react. Staying grounded helped me push through the shame, frustration, and fear. Now, when I talk to others dealing with drug charges or navigating probation, I bring that same nonjudgmental support. I know what it’s like to feel like the system is stacked against you—but I also know it’s possible to come out stronger, more centered, and proud of how far you’ve come.

Starting over after alcohol addiction and a criminal record

Veronica G.

I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve ruined your life and there’s no way back. For years, alcohol was my constant companion. Half a bottle of whiskey a day was normal, and I didn’t care about the consequences. Then one bad decision led to another: DUIs, legal trouble, and eventually, a criminal record. I didn’t just lose my freedom, I lost my sense of self. I ended up incarcerated for missing a court date, and that was my turning point. I realized that alcohol had controlled my life for so long that I couldn’t even remember who I was without it. The shame from my past actions felt suffocating. I tried to bury it, but it kept resurfacing. I relapsed after a long period of sobriety, and that’s when I found myself in a psych ward, facing my demons head-on. But that rock bottom became my foundation for rebuilding. Through AA, inpatient rehab, therapy, and a deep commitment to change, I started putting my life back together piece by piece. Sobriety didn’t just mean stopping drinking—it meant choosing a new path, facing my past, and slowly regaining trust in myself. Yes, I still carry the weight of my criminal record, but I’ve learned that my mistakes don’t define my future. If you feel like your past is a chain holding you back, I’ve been there. And I’m here to tell you: starting over is possible.

Navigating asexuality in a sexual world

Eli M.

For most of my life, I assumed I was bisexual because that’s what made sense based on how I was raised to think about attraction. But something never quite clicked. I didn’t feel desire the way others described it, and I often felt broken or left out in conversations about sex. Eventually, I realized I’m asexual—and suddenly, a lot of things made sense. I’ve experienced relationships where my lack of interest in sex was misunderstood, dismissed, or even used against me. It was isolating, especially as someone who is trans and neurodivergent, because I already felt like I had to explain myself constantly. But I’ve also had beautiful, affirming connections—queer-platonic relationships, deep friendships, and forms of intimacy that had nothing to do with sex. These experiences helped me embrace that intimacy can look different for everyone and that I deserve connection that honors who I am. Now, I support others who are discovering their asexual identity, figuring out what intimacy means to them, and navigating relationships in a world that often centers sex as the default.

Healing from toxic relationships

Addison W.

I'm a trans man in my late 20s who's been shaped by both hardship and healing. During a particularly difficult time in my life, I found myself in an environment that tested my boundaries and challenged my mental health. It took time — and the support of people who cared about me — to recognize what I was experiencing and begin the process of reclaiming my peace. Along the way, I’ve worked through PTSD and anxiety, explored different forms of healing, and learned how to stay grounded in the face of emotional intensity. I've supported others in the LGBTQ+ community, held space for friends facing tough relationship dynamics, and developed a strong sense of when and how to set healthy boundaries. I bring a calm, empathetic presence to every conversation. If you're feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, or caught in something hard to name — I'm here. You don’t have to navigate it alone.

Coming out later in life

Brianna F.

I grew up in a conservative Catholic community where exploring my identity wasn't an option. I married twice to men and lived much of my early adulthood according to expectations that never truly fit. It wasn't until later, through a lot of therapy and personal work, that I realized I was a lesbian. Coming out wasn't easy—it meant redefining my relationships, facing family expectations, and learning to live more authentically. I’m now happily married to a woman and raising our beautiful five-year-old daughter, with a lot of pride in the journey it took to get here. Therapy, supportive friendships, and staying committed to my mental health helped me embrace who I am. I've helped others find the courage to live authentically too, whether it’s young LGBTQ+ coworkers facing unsupportive environments or friends making life-changing decisions. I would be honored to be a listening ear for anyone navigating the complex and emotional path of coming out later in life.

Being out at work — in your own way, and in your own time

Alex H.

I’ve never led a double life or pretended to be someone I’m not — but for many years, I also didn’t speak openly about my sexuality at work. It wasn’t a conscious choice to hide so much as a quiet calibration of comfort: Was this a place where I could be vulnerable? Did I feel safe enough to be fully myself? In the performing arts world, being out was more normalized, almost expected. But in more traditional or corporate settings, I found myself making a series of micro-decisions — a mention of a boyfriend here, a reference to my husband there — slowly allowing more of myself into the room. I’m lucky in many ways: I live in a progressive part of the country with legal protections and a generally inclusive work culture. For me, coming out at work wasn’t about fearing repercussions. It was about growing into my own sense of authenticity and letting go of the long-held instinct to self-edit — an instinct shaped by childhood messages that told me I was “too much” or too expressive. That fear of being “found out” lingered in the background, not as a threat but as a habit — one that’s hard to shake, especially in professional settings where scrutiny and performance go hand in hand. There were no dramatic coming-out moments for me — just a steady unfolding. Supportive colleagues helped. So did jobs where I felt psychologically safe, where I didn’t have to compartmentalize to survive. Still, there were times I felt like an outsider, particularly in male-dominated or heteronormative spaces. The difference wasn’t always spoken, but it was felt — in conversations I couldn’t quite join, or camaraderie I wasn’t sure how to access. These days, being out at work feels less like a decision and more like a given. I don’t feel a line between being “in” or “out” — I just am. For anyone else weighing whether, how, or when to come out at work, I don’t have a script. But I do know most imagined fears are harsher than the reality, and that living more fully into yourself — even in quiet, gradual ways — can offer a huge lift to your sense of well-being. If you’re looking to talk it through, I’d be honored to help you find a path that feels natural, grounded, and fully yours.

Queer identity and connection — whether you’re still figuring it out or have lived it for years

Alex H.

I grew up in a religious, Chinese-American household during a time when queer identity simply wasn’t named — let alone accepted. As a teen and young adult in the ’80s and ’90s, I didn’t yet have the words to describe what I was feeling. What I did have was fear, secrecy, and prayer — lots of it. I spent years asking to be “cured,” trying to suppress what I didn’t yet understand. Looking back, I can see that the journey to self-acceptance was always running parallel to my slow, often painful unraveling of the faith framework I’d inherited. My early relationships reflected that inner conflict. They were passionate but unstable, conducted in secrecy, and marked by co-dependence rather than commitment. It wasn’t until my 30s and 40s that I had my first adult relationship — one that grew, over time, into the marriage I’m in today. My husband and I met more than two decades ago, and what began as an on-again, off-again connection eventually evolved into a long-term partnership grounded in growth, empathy, and deep care. Being outsiders taught us we didn’t have to follow anyone else’s script. Choosing marriage became an intentional, even political act. It was never about assimilation. It was about building something that felt true. Over time, I found community. Not always in ways that mirrored me, but in spaces that embraced difference. A dear friend in my 20s introduced me to the wider gay world: the clubs, the culture, the freedom of Pride. And while I didn’t identify with every part of it, I came to understand that there’s room in queer life for every kind of story — including mine. Today, I belong to a quiet corner of the queer world, and also to a lineage of people who survived and reimagined. What I hope to offer others — especially those still wrestling with shame or uncertainty — is a place of rest. A checkpoint. A reminder that your instincts toward truth and connection are worth following, and that the world you’re building for yourself is one worth living in.

Co-parenting after coming out and navigating big life changes

Lauren B.

When my daughter was less a year old, her father and I decided to separate while I was simultaneously going through the process of coming out as queer. It involved a lot of conflict, internal deep-diving, and mediation. Within a year, both of us had remarried new partners, and our family dynamic quickly shifted. Co-parenting in that kind of emotional whirlwind came with serious challenges: communication breakdowns, legal struggles, and learning how to put our daughter first while still honoring who we were becoming. On top of that, we learned she had ADHD, like me, which added another layer to how we had to show up for her. I was trying to parent her the way I wished I had been parented: compassionately, with curiosity and support for her differences, but that wasn’t always easy with two households and differing parenting styles. As a former special ed teacher and current interpreter, I leaned on my background in advocacy and education to create stability where I could. Therapy, humor, and community were key for me. Now, I want to be a steady hand for anyone else navigating this emotional maze. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.

Parenting through challenges, navigating big life transitions, and building healthy relationships

Dana K.

I became a parent while finishing graduate school, balancing a newborn, academic demands, and a move to Alaska all at once. As my daughter grew, I learned to navigate her ADHD and later, the major emotional hurdles that came with her Long Covid diagnosis. At the same time, I was working through profound changes in my own life—struggling in my marriage, recognizing my identity as a gay woman, and healing after a suicide attempt in 2017. Therapy became a lifeline, helping me rediscover my authentic self, leave my marriage on good terms, and eventually build a healthy new marriage based on communication and mutual understanding. Now, as a longtime educator, a parent, and someone who has rebuilt a full, genuine life, I’m passionate about helping others work through parenting stress, relationship transitions, identity discovery, and emotional healing.

Parenting, identity, and life transitions

Jodi H.

Coming out at 28 and building a life with a same-sex partner took courage, patience, and a deep sense of purpose. Over three decades later, that partnership is still going strong—with two grown children, a loving home, and a lot of wisdom gained along the way. With 25 years as a school counselor, there’s firsthand insight into the challenges people face around identity, parenting, family conflict, loss, and the big transitions that define us—like becoming a parent, starting a career, or retiring. This is someone who understands what it means to raise children in a non-traditional family, to help others navigate their coming-out journeys, and to walk beside people as they step into new phases of life. Whether you're trying to build a life that reflects who you are, support your kids through change, or simply find your footing again, you're not alone.

Coming out as transgender later in life

Stefanie C.

I lived the first 68 years of my life in the closet. I had a loving wife, a long and successful career as a CPA, and from the outside, everything looked settled. But deep inside, I knew there was more to who I truly was. It wasn’t until after my wife passed that I felt the opening to finally live as myself. Coming out as a transgender woman in my 70s was both liberating and challenging. The legal process of changing my name and gender marker was my first big hurdle—but I completed it in under seven months, one of the shortest timelines in Illinois at the time. Since then, I’ve used my experience to support other transgender women, especially those navigating later-in-life transitions. I now speak publicly, mentor others, and advocate for culturally competent care because I know how isolating the journey can feel. You’re never too old to live authentically, and I’m here to walk alongside anyone taking those first brave steps.

Overcoming loneliness and mental health struggles in the LGBTQ+ community

Priyana K.

As a young adult, I’ve faced the weight of depression, anxiety, and eating disorders, compounded by the deep loneliness that came with feeling misunderstood—especially as I navigated my identity and came out in a South Asian family. These experiences deeply affected my relationships and made me feel disconnected from others, as I struggled to find support that was both safe and affirming. With therapy, family healing, and a lot of personal growth, I’ve worked hard to rebuild my life and my sense of self. Today, I’m six years strong in recovery, and as a Certified Peer Support Specialist trained through NAMI, I’m passionate about offering guidance and support to others who are navigating similar challenges. Whether you’re grappling with mental health issues, facing relationship difficulties, or working through the complexities of your identity as part of the LGBTQ+ community, I’m here to walk with you and remind you that you’re not alone. Together, we can find a way forward.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Finding yourself after leaving a controlling religious group

Elizabeth M.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

questioning the faith you were brought up in and redefining what spirituality means to you

Micah L.

I grew up Southern Baptist in a small town, where I was taught a very fire-and-brimstone version of Christianity. From an early age, I was taught that questioning your beliefs, or even being curious about other faiths, could land you in hell. The message was clear: being a born-again Christian was the only way to know God, and everything else was wrong or dangerous. When I went to college and started meeting people with different beliefs and worldviews, I couldn’t ignore the thought that there was no way there was only one “right” religion. I struggled with guilt at first—I’d been taught that any doubts were sinful. But the more I learned, the more I realized that doubt is normal, and even sacred. People of all faiths (and no faith) wrestle with the same questions. Over time, my view of God shifted to a much more caring, loving, and gracious presence. I see each religion as a different way of trying to explain or connect with God. I still read the Bible and pray because those practices are familiar and grounding for me, but I also believe that love, safety, and intention matter more than labels. If you’re questioning the beliefs you were raised with, or just trying to figure out what spirituality means to you now, you’re not alone. I’d love to hold space for that exploration and help you navigate changing beliefs while still interacting with family, friends, or communities that may not understand.

Handling a difficult parent and learning from their mistakes

Brandon S.

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.

the pain and shame of sexual and spiritual abuse in your children's lives

Susan K.

We raised our children in what we thought was a safe environment, physically, emotionally and spiritually. As i look back, the word "cult' is appropriate. We were so insecure and craving acceptance that we "drank the kool aid" Tragically, our children suffered in every way. Thankfully, they have forgiven us, but forgiving ourselves has been a tremendous challenge. Working on discovering our core identity has been a big part of our healing.

Recovering from meth addiction and finding your strength again

Tracey L.

There was a time when I felt completely broken. I lost my father, and the grief swallowed me. I turned to meth to quiet the pain, then spiraled into a world of addiction, using whatever I could find: Methanphetime, Adderall, weight loss pills, cocaine. Things got worse when I married my dealer and spent years in an abusive relationship. I went through homelessness, brushes with the law, and the kind of trauma that leaves you unsure who you even are anymore. But then I found out I was pregnant. That moment snapped something awake in me; I quit cold turkey and never used again. It wasn’t easy. Recovery wasn’t just about getting sober; it was about clawing my way back to myself. I fought for my peace, leaned into therapy, found support, and eventually built a life I never thought possible. Today, I’ve been clean since 2001. I’m a Peer Support Specialist helping others with complex PTSD, mental health, and addiction. I use what I’ve lived through to walk alongside others in their darkest moments. I know what it’s like to feel lost—and I also know the way out.

Navigating family dynamics and finding your voice

Dion P.

I grew up in a world where I had to figure out my place early. My mom had me at 15, and my grandmother raised me with love and resilience. As I got older, I realized that building healthy relationships with my parents and extended family meant learning how to set boundaries and communicate my needs — even when it was uncomfortable. Being the first in my family to go to college, I carried the weight of expectations and sometimes the sting of judgment. Through studying psychology, working with my own therapist, and stepping into leadership roles, I learned how to build a support system and honor my own growth. As a Black man in America, I know the importance of finding your voice and believing you belong in every room you step into. Today, as a life coach, I help others navigate tough family conversations, set boundaries, and build a life they can be proud of — because everyone deserves to feel heard, valued, and supported.

Midlife identity theft by my own hormones

Kari K.

Midlife isn't a crisis - it's a costume change. One day you're PTA president, the next you're questioning everything from your coffee order to your calling. I'll talk about how I found clarity in the chaos, let go of roles that didn't fit, and learned to wear my *quirky* on purpose.

Reinventing your career when you're stuck in the unknown

Andrea B.

I’ve changed careers multiple times across very different industries. Each shift started with the same feeling: stuck, uncertain, and unsure what the next step should be. I have left jobs without a clear plan, faced the silence after being forced to resign, and sat with the fear that I might never find something that felt right. The path was never linear. It involved a lot of false starts, doubt, and days when clarity felt completely out of reach. But through trial, reflection, and learning to listen to what I actually needed, I began to build a different way forward. I used tools like mindset work, personal awareness, and small experiments to create movement. Reinvention didn’t come from figuring everything out. It came from being willing to start where I was and take the next step anyway. Now, I support others who are facing the same stuckness and helping them find traction in the unknown.

The search for purpose and direction while feeling lost

Mike C.

There were times in my life when I felt completely untethered—unsure of where I was headed, doubting whether I had anything meaningful to offer the world. I went through phases of chasing achievements, external validation, or whatever seemed like the ‘right’ next step, hoping it would give me a sense of purpose. But it never felt quite right. Eventually, I realized purpose isn’t something you stumble upon in a single moment—it’s something that evolves, shifts, and grows with you. It’s about understanding your values, what truly resonates with you, and how you want to engage with the world. And sometimes, the first step is simply allowing yourself the space to ask questions without pressure to have all the answers right away. Through peer support, I’ve helped others explore what purpose means to them—not as an obligation, but as a process of discovery. If you’re feeling stuck, uncertain, or lost in the "what’s next?" of life, I get it. Let’s take the time to navigate it together.

Rediscovering your true self and finding your career path

Sami C.

When I graduated from college, I had big dreams but didn’t have a clear idea of how to turn them into a career. I spent years in various jobs, unsure of where I truly belonged, but I kept going because I thought “this was what I was supposed to do.” It wasn’t until I embraced my passions, trusted my instincts, and leaned into my faith that I realized my career wasn’t just a job—it was a calling. I spent time in the TV industry, as a writer, and even as a tennis pro, but I never felt fully fulfilled until I began teaching, coaching, and sharing my story. I know what it feels like to wonder if the dreams you have are even possible, or if you’re just wasting time in the wrong role. But I also know that when you get clear on your purpose and take intentional steps, doors open in ways you didn’t expect. Whether you're about to graduate and need direction, considering a career change, or simply wanting a fresh start in a new season of life, I’d love to help you get clear on your path and discover a future that feels exciting and aligned with your true self.

feeling stuck and unsure what’s next (especially when everyone else seems to have it figured out)

Christine D.

There was a time I looked around and thought, Is it just me? Everyone else seemed to be climbing the ladder, finding their calling, or at least pretending they had a 5-year plan. Meanwhile, I was drowning in a sea of doubt. I had checked off so many boxes. Got the degree, the job, the accolades, but still felt empty. The path I was on didn’t feel like mine. It felt like it was expected from me. Leaving my career in biopharmaceuticals wasn’t a snap decision. It was a slow unraveling. I stayed longer than I should’ve out of fear of failing, of disappointing people, of starting from zero. But eventually, I chose honesty over stability. I admitted to myself that I wanted a life with more meaning, not just more titles. I didn’t have it all figured out, and honestly, I still don’t. But I’ve learned how to sit with uncertainty without letting it paralyze me. I’ve started over. I’ve built new skills. I’ve redefined success on my own terms. And now, I help others do the same. If you feel like you’re stuck in a life that doesn’t reflect who you are anymore or if you're craving change but don't know where to begin you’re not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about what’s holding you back, and what’s possible on the other side.

life in the in-between

Ritika D.

There was a time in my life when everything felt paused. I was between jobs, unsure of my next step, watching others move forward while I sat still. People would say, “Something will come along,” but the waiting felt like slow erosion. My self-worth was tied to progress, and without it, I felt small. I learned how to sit with the discomfort, how to extract meaning from stillness, and how to build a life that didn’t depend on a clear next chapter. I began to ask myself deeper questions about purpose, identity, and what truly mattered.

Finding clarity and purpose when life feels heavy, hopeless, or stuck

Angelica A.

There was a time when I looked like I had it all together—a stable job, a plan, a life that made sense on paper. But inside, I felt stuck, numb, and completely disconnected from any real sense of joy or purpose. I had always been the strong, independent one, figuring things out on my own. But this time, I was just exhausted. Every day felt like survival mode. I kept telling myself to “just make it work,” but my soul was getting heavier by the day. When I tried to talk about it, I didn’t have the words—and when I did, I was often met with surface-level advice or silence. So I turned inward. I journaled. I followed little sparks of hope wherever I could find them. I started asking myself, “What if life could actually feel better?” and that one question changed everything. Bit by bit, I realized I wasn’t just sad or burnt out—I was misaligned. I had outgrown the life I was living, and that misalignment was draining me. The more I got curious, the more I started noticing signs and synchronicities guiding me toward something deeper: purpose. Now, I live from that place. My life is still imperfect, but I have an inner anchor. I help others who feel stuck, tired, or lost remember who they are and why they’re here. Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re carrying it all alone—and I also know what it’s like to come out the other side with clarity, purpose, and a renewed sense of self.

exploring life goals, vision boarding, and shifting your mindset

Micah L.

Growing up, I had a bit of a bad attitude. I genuinely believed I was unlucky and that good things just wouldn’t happen to me. I saw other people living lives that felt out of reach, and I assumed I’d always be stuck in a version of life that felt small, stressful, or just meh. That started to shift when I learned about limiting beliefs. I realized I had internalized some deep stories about what I thought I deserved, and that those beliefs were shaping what I did and didn’t go after. Once I began doing intentional work to change those patterns, so much started to change. I landed a job I enjoy, started a career I’m proud of, and cultivated friendships that bring me real joy. These days, people even comment on how “lucky” I am, but I know it’s not just luck. It’s mindset, consistency, and dreaming on purpose. I now spend regular time visualizing, meditating, doing EFT tapping, and creating vision boards that keep me aligned and connected to what I actually want. If you were never taught to dream big or even figure out what you actually want, I’d love to help you take those first steps.

Midlife crisis as a neurodivergent individual

Solangel J.

For me, the whole ‘midlife crisis’ thing didn’t come with dramatic changes. It was more like a slow unraveling. One day I just looked around and thought, Wait—how did I get here? I had routines, responsibilities, a version of stability... but deep down, I felt completely disconnected from myself. And as someone with ADHD and autism, there was an extra layer to it all. I had spent so many years masking, pushing through burnout, trying to meet neurotypical expectations, and shaping myself to fit in. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what I actually wanted or needed. I didn’t even realize how much I had been performing until I hit that wall of midlife. Everything started to feel… off. Things I used to enjoy didn’t light me up anymore. The structure I relied on started to feel suffocating. I questioned my identity, my choices, and whether I’d been living my life or just surviving one. It was overwhelming—and it wasn’t the kind of thing I could explain easily to other people, because from the outside, I looked fine. What helped was giving myself space to pause and be curious. Not to fix it all, but to check in with myself in a real, honest way. I started exploring who I was outside of the masking, the people-pleasing, and the survival mode I had lived in for so long. So if you’re neurodivergent and feeling stuck, disoriented, or unsure what’s next—you are not alone. You’re not behind. And you’re not broken. You’re just waking up to parts of yourself that finally have the space to speak.

Navigating grief and rebuilding self-worth after losing a friend

MacKenzie C.

When I was in college, I lost a close friend to suicide during the height of the pandemic. The shock of it, combined with the loneliness of that time, hit me harder than I could have imagined. I was eventually diagnosed with major depression and felt completely stuck, questioning my own worth and purpose. Over the past five years, I’ve poured myself into healing, studying psychology, and creating self-regulation tools to move through sadness, anger, and guilt. I learned to honor my friend's memory without letting grief define me. I also worked to rebuild my confidence, leaving behind toxic relationships and embracing sobriety in 2021. Through all of this, I realized how powerful it is to have someone walk with you through healing. Now, as a life coach and mentor, I’m passionate about helping others find their footing again after loss.

building habits with accountability, not shame

Christine D.

Starting something new always sounds great—until Day 3 hits and suddenly your bed, your snacks, or your scrolling habit wins. I’ve been there. I’ve tried to wake up at 6am like a productive queen, journal like I’m the main character, eat clean, stretch daily, drink enough water to hydrate a cactus—and guess what? I still fell off. Multiple times. (And yes, I still forget to drink water like it’s a full-time job.) What I realized is: I wasn’t lazy or unmotivated. I just needed a witness to my goals. Someone to say, “Hey, didn’t you want to do that thing?” without making me feel like a failure. Someone who could laugh with me and call me in, not out. Now, I’m that person—for myself, and for others. The hype buddy. The accountability partner with good vibes and zero shame. Because sometimes you don’t need a coach—you need someone who gets it when you say, “I just couldn’t today,” but who’ll still nudge you tomorrow. If you’re trying to start (or re-start) a habit and your willpower keeps ghosting you, I’m here. Let’s talk about what you’re building—and build it together, one non-judgy check-in at a time.

Surviving childhood human trafficking

Kelly S.

When I was a little girl at about the age of four years old in 1982, I was kidnapped by local outlaws, that included members of the occult, and drug up into a child human labor and sex trafficking ring against my will. I have been an eyewitness to true horror, crime, and war since that time, with government, police, and military officials even becoming involved. Flashing back, I believe that I was a child POW, and have memories of spending time on military bases without my family’s knowledge. I used to be so full of fear that I didn’t know how to communicate with anyone about what was happening to me with local community members, who also had children that were classmates of mine and my siblings. Some of my earliest memories start when I was in preschool and began being separated from my peers after my parents would drop me off for a short time. It was then that I began receiving “alternate learning experiences.” I was brought back and forced to pretend as though I had been there the entire time. This all came out in my therapy after surviving breast cancer. My family didn’t understand what was happening to me because this was such a large organization of human traffickers, many who were heavily involved in clubs, gangs, and the mob. This severe abuse was evening happening inside my schools, with district staff participating in the trafficking. I was able to navigate the challenges this abuse presented through sheer will and determination. I have always had a strong Mennonite faith because of my paternal grandmother and our ancestors on her side of the family. I was also extremely fortunate to have been born into the family that I was, because they had financial security and provided for most of my basic needs. This abuse has had a negative impact on me throughout my lifetime though, and led me to developing eating disorders, complex PTSD with major depression and anxiety, trust issues, job loss, threats of homelessness, struggles with interpersonal violence, a history of substance abuse, and more adversities. I am still here fighting though, and have been sober since 2020. I am open to sharing more about my personal lived experiences with anyone who needs validation of their own from an empathic, compassionate, and listening ear.

Everyday stressors

Amber H.

Sometimes we can’t pinpoint exactly why we are feeling down or overwhelmed, we just are. I understand that all to well because I experience this often. Because I have a history with depression and anxiety, I know how important it is to talk through our everyday stressors and get an outsiders perspective. I am here to listen and support you through this. I can reassure you that you aren’t alone in feeling overwhelmed and I can offer suggestions and techniques I’ve used to stay grounded in the moment.

exploring life goals, vision boarding, and shifting your mindset

Micah L.

Growing up, I had a bit of a bad attitude. I genuinely believed I was unlucky and that good things just wouldn’t happen to me. I saw other people living lives that felt out of reach, and I assumed I’d always be stuck in a version of life that felt small, stressful, or just meh. That started to shift when I learned about limiting beliefs. I realized I had internalized some deep stories about what I thought I deserved, and that those beliefs were shaping what I did and didn’t go after. Once I began doing intentional work to change those patterns, so much started to change. I landed a job I enjoy, started a career I’m proud of, and cultivated friendships that bring me real joy. These days, people even comment on how “lucky” I am, but I know it’s not just luck. It’s mindset, consistency, and dreaming on purpose. I now spend regular time visualizing, meditating, doing EFT tapping, and creating vision boards that keep me aligned and connected to what I actually want. If you were never taught to dream big or even figure out what you actually want, I’d love to help you take those first steps.

Recovering from meth addiction and finding your strength again

Tracey L.

There was a time when I felt completely broken. I lost my father, and the grief swallowed me. I turned to meth to quiet the pain, then spiraled into a world of addiction, using whatever I could find: Methanphetime, Adderall, weight loss pills, cocaine. Things got worse when I married my dealer and spent years in an abusive relationship. I went through homelessness, brushes with the law, and the kind of trauma that leaves you unsure who you even are anymore. But then I found out I was pregnant. That moment snapped something awake in me; I quit cold turkey and never used again. It wasn’t easy. Recovery wasn’t just about getting sober; it was about clawing my way back to myself. I fought for my peace, leaned into therapy, found support, and eventually built a life I never thought possible. Today, I’ve been clean since 2001. I’m a Peer Support Specialist helping others with complex PTSD, mental health, and addiction. I use what I’ve lived through to walk alongside others in their darkest moments. I know what it’s like to feel lost—and I also know the way out.

Navigating major life transitions with grace

John J.

After over 30 years in the insurance world, I made the leap to start my own small agency after retirement. It was a big shift, moving from a steady paycheck to running my own business, but it has been one of the most rewarding decisions I’ve made. Alongside these professional changes, my personal life has been filled with new blessings too—becoming a grandfather and watching my family grow has been a true joy. Through all these changes, I’ve leaned heavily on my passion for helping others, a value deepened by years of experience as a grief support facilitator and Stephen Minister. I've learned that real growth comes from listening deeply, staying patient, and offering yourself the same grace you would give to others. I know firsthand that transitions can feel overwhelming, but they can also open doors to new opportunities and deeper meaning. I would be honored to walk alongside anyone facing their own big changes.

Staying sober and building a balanced, purposeful life beyond alcohol

Geordie M.

I started drinking heavily in high school, using alcohol to cope with emotions I didn't know how to deal with. By the time I was 25, I was stuck in a miserable job in consulting, but I kept pushing through. It wasn't until things came to a head that I realized I needed to stop drinking. I made the decision to quit, not just for my health, but for my future. Sobriety wasn’t easy at first, and it still presents its challenges, but over time, I learned that living sober doesn’t limit your life—it actually expands it in ways I never imagined. I went through a 12-step program early on, but I’ve since built a richer life without alcohol. I now focus on cultivating meaningful relationships, staying present with my emotions, and working on my mental health. It's been an ongoing journey, but the key has been finding purpose and peace outside of alcohol. I want to help others realize that sobriety isn’t a restriction—it’s an opportunity to build the life they really want.

Finding clarity and purpose after stimulants, marijuana and mental health struggles

Jagan D.

Growing up, my home was filled with emotional turmoil and alcohol abuse, and from a young age, I developed a sense of helplessness. When I went to college, I finally felt free from that environment, but without the right tools, I spiraled into habits that hurt my mental health. I experimented with marijuana, psychedelics, and alcohol, using them to fill a void and distract myself from the deeper work I needed to do. Although psychedelics gave me brief glimpses of healing, I wasn’t grounded enough in sobriety to fully benefit from them. Over time, I realized I needed real clarity, not just moments of it. Staying sober these past few years has completely changed my life — my mind feels sharper, my sense of purpose is strong, and I’m now working toward my dream of becoming a neurosurgeon. Mental health and recovery are huge passions of mine, and I’d love to connect with you if you're feeling lost or stuck, because I know how hard — and how worth it — the journey can be.

Navigating major life transitions with grace

John J.

After over 30 years in the insurance world, I made the leap to start my own small agency after retirement. It was a big shift, moving from a steady paycheck to running my own business, but it has been one of the most rewarding decisions I’ve made. Alongside these professional changes, my personal life has been filled with new blessings too—becoming a grandfather and watching my family grow has been a true joy. Through all these changes, I’ve leaned heavily on my passion for helping others, a value deepened by years of experience as a grief support facilitator and Stephen Minister. I've learned that real growth comes from listening deeply, staying patient, and offering yourself the same grace you would give to others. I know firsthand that transitions can feel overwhelming, but they can also open doors to new opportunities and deeper meaning. I would be honored to walk alongside anyone facing their own big changes.

Parenting a child with autism while newly in recovery

Kimberly F.

When I got sober in 2018, I was raising three boys on my own and my middle son had just been diagnosed with autism. I was barely staying afloat emotionally and mentally, and the added stress of figuring out how to support him while staying clean felt impossible some days. He had meltdowns I didn’t know how to handle, and I was still learning how to handle myself. I couldn’t rely on old habits anymore. I had to show up clear-headed, patient, and present. That meant building new routines, learning different parenting strategies, and leaning into resources like therapy, community support, and parenting programs. There were moments I felt like I was failing him, like I didn’t know what I was doing. But I kept going, one day at a time. I’ve since helped other parents navigate this same space, especially those who feel ashamed or unsure. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be willing. And I’m here to walk alongside you.

Being in your 20s and wondering, “what am I even doing with my life?”

Sami C.

When I was in college, I thought I had to have everything figured out—career, relationships, calling, identity. The truth? I didn’t. And that pressure almost crushed me, leading me to graduate high school at 16, college at 20 and then go on to earn my MA at 22. Now, after decades of experience as a professor, coach, and mentor to young women navigating these same questions, I’ve learned that clarity doesn’t come from forcing a five-year plan—it comes from learning to listen inward and upward. I love helping young women who feel stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of their next step rediscover who they are and how to move forward with purpose and peace.

Rebuilding your life after betrayal and divorce

Sami C.

I was married for 20 years, but for at least half of that time, my partner was having affairs with people of the same sex. We went through counseling, trying to heal, but I later found out the betrayal had continued behind my back. Going through the end of that marriage while raising two kids was incredibly painful, but it also pushed me to find a strength I didn’t know I had. After a year of being single, I dated again, remarried, and eventually divorced a second time. Each experience, though heartbreaking, led me closer to understanding myself and what I truly want out of life. Today, both of my children are in college, and I’m proud of the compassionate, grounded people they are becoming. I've written a book on raising kids with empathy and now focus on helping others navigate their own transitions. If you’re facing the wreckage of a broken relationship or struggling to rediscover yourself, I would be honored to support you.

breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

Finding recovery after losing a child to addiction

Mortana (Tana) N.

I’ve been in recovery for 15 months now, but the road here wasn’t smooth—it was gut-wrenching. I lost my 24-year-old daughter to addiction, and six months later, I lost my mom. After that, I spiraled. I went back to using, not because I didn’t want to stay clean, but because I didn’t know how to cope without the right support. At one point, I was homeless, back on the streets, and I felt like I had nothing left to lose. But I knew deep down I wanted to live. I entered treatment, then sober living, and slowly started putting the pieces back together. Now, I have my own place, a car, and a job I love—working as a peer support specialist at a treatment center. Helping others keeps me grounded. I know the heartbreak of losing a child to addiction, and I know what it means to find light again after that kind of darkness. If you’re struggling, grieving, or feeling lost, I’d be honored to sit with you. We don’t have to walk this road alone.

Navigating friendship changes during big life transitions

Carrie M.

Becoming a parent changed my friendships in ways I never expected. Some friends drifted away when I couldn't make last-minute plans or stay out late anymore. Others seemed uncomfortable with my new reality, like they didn't know how to relate to me once I had kids. I felt guilty for not being as available, but also resentful when friends didn't understand why a simple dinner out now required two weeks of planning. I was grieving the spontaneous connections I used to have while trying to figure out who I was in these relationships now. The loneliness was real. I found myself surrounded by people at playgrounds and school events, but craving the deep conversations and authentic connections I used to have. Making mom friends felt awkward—were we connecting as people or just because our kids were the same age? I struggled with boundaries, too, feeling like I had to say yes to every social invitation to prove I was still fun, even when I was exhausted. I was trying to maintain my old friendships while building new ones, and doing neither very well. What I learned is that friendships, like everything else, need to evolve with your life stages. Some relationships naturally faded, and that was okay. Others deepened in unexpected ways when I got honest about what I needed and what I could offer. I discovered that quality mattered more than quantity, and that showing up authentically—even if it looked different than before—was better than pretending nothing had changed. If you're feeling disconnected from old friends, struggling to make new ones, or wondering how to maintain meaningful relationships while parenting, you're not alone in this shift.

Parenting through challenges, navigating big life transitions, and building healthy relationships

Dana K.

I became a parent while finishing graduate school, balancing a newborn, academic demands, and a move to Alaska all at once. As my daughter grew, I learned to navigate her ADHD and later, the major emotional hurdles that came with her Long Covid diagnosis. At the same time, I was working through profound changes in my own life—struggling in my marriage, recognizing my identity as a gay woman, and healing after a suicide attempt in 2017. Therapy became a lifeline, helping me rediscover my authentic self, leave my marriage on good terms, and eventually build a healthy new marriage based on communication and mutual understanding. Now, as a longtime educator, a parent, and someone who has rebuilt a full, genuine life, I’m passionate about helping others work through parenting stress, relationship transitions, identity discovery, and emotional healing.

Parenting, identity, and life transitions

Jodi H.

Coming out at 28 and building a life with a same-sex partner took courage, patience, and a deep sense of purpose. Over three decades later, that partnership is still going strong—with two grown children, a loving home, and a lot of wisdom gained along the way. With 25 years as a school counselor, there’s firsthand insight into the challenges people face around identity, parenting, family conflict, loss, and the big transitions that define us—like becoming a parent, starting a career, or retiring. This is someone who understands what it means to raise children in a non-traditional family, to help others navigate their coming-out journeys, and to walk beside people as they step into new phases of life. Whether you're trying to build a life that reflects who you are, support your kids through change, or simply find your footing again, you're not alone.

Navigating difficult co-parenting and personal growth after divorce

Sol K.

Five years ago, my life was turned upside down when I went through a divorce. It was a challenging time, but it became a turning point that set me on a path of personal growth. I have two young kids, aged 6 and 8, and being a hands-on, involved father has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my life. During the divorce, I learned about narcissism, codependency, and the roles I was playing in unhealthy dynamics. I wasn’t being honest with myself about how I was feeling. I’ve since done deep emotional work, including training programs to help me get in touch with my emotions and recognize patterns that held me back. Now, I look at challenges, especially co-parenting difficulties, as opportunities to grow. Navigating communication with a difficult co-parent can be draining, but I’ve learned the importance of setting boundaries, staying emotionally clear, and focusing on creating a healthy environment for my kids. I’m currently in an MFT program, and I’m passionate about helping others understand and heal from the complexities of family relationships.

Healing, recovery, and rediscovering yourself

Shelly R.

Hi, I’m someone who knows that healing is a lifelong journey—and that it’s worth it. I’m a retired woman with adult children, and I’ve been sober for over 25 years after struggling with alcohol addiction from a young age. My recovery journey included participating in a 12-step program, attending AA and Recovery Dharma meetings, and rebuilding my life after a difficult divorce. Today, I’ve been happily remarried for nearly two decades and continue to grow every day. Along the way, I’ve also been a caregiver, supported friends through addiction and recovery, and worked to heal from growing up in a household affected by mental illness. Through all of these experiences, I’ve learned that community, compassion, and resilience make all the difference. I’m here to listen, support, and walk with you as you navigate your own path.

midlife changes and adjustments

Melissa J.

The first thing I want you to know is that you are going to be okay. Midlife brings huge changes that can feel overwhelming and painful, especially when limitations start to affect your daily life. I faced this head-on when I began to change during midlife, and I struggled with depression and a loss of hope. It felt like I was losing the person I used to be and wasn’t sure how to move forward. But over time, I learned to redefine myself and find new meaning and purpose beyond what I had expected. It wasn’t easy and took patience, but I discovered a new, authentic path that's fulfilling. I want to share my experience and remind anyone going through this that great things are still ahead and change can bring joy.

rebuilding your life after panic attacks and marriage struggles

Jessica B.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with a panic disorder that left me terrified to even leave my house. I felt trapped by fear, unable to do basic tasks, and deeply isolated. At the same time, my marriage was breaking down, and I seriously considered divorce, even though the thought of starting over was overwhelming. Through therapy, rebuilding my faith, learning how to set healthy boundaries, and practicing anxiety-reduction techniques, I slowly found my way back to myself—and to my marriage. We worked through broken trust, rebuilt communication, and created a stronger relationship than we ever had before. While I’m not sober myself, my day job involves supporting people who are detoxing from alcohol, which has taught me even more about healing, change, and resilience. I know firsthand how lonely and impossible it can feel in the darkest seasons, but change is truly possible. I'd love to help you find hope and take steps toward a lighter life.

Friendship: who's still standing after the freakshow

Kari K.

Divorce, recovery, business, grief - I've been through a lot of friend filters. I'll share what I learned about showing up, letting go, and building community that doesn't require costumes. Real friends don't flinch when the mascara runs.

Managing relationship challenges and setting boundaries

Christine D.

For the past five years, I’ve spent hundreds of hours listening to people talk through their relationship struggles—whether it was with friends, family, coworkers, partners, or even themselves. I know how easy it is to fall into patterns like people-pleasing or conflict avoidance, and how overwhelming it can feel when those patterns leave you disconnected or resentful. In my own life, I’ve had to learn how to set healthy boundaries, have uncomfortable conversations, and take small steps to stay connected without losing myself. I’m passionate about helping people sort through the messy middle of relationships, because I’ve seen firsthand that with a little support and reflection, things really can get better. Sometimes it’s just about having someone listen and help you figure out your next step. I’m here to be that person for you.

Surviving the loss of a stillborn baby

Adley H.

Losing my firstborn son to stillbirth was the most devastating experience of my life. It shattered everything I thought I knew about grief, motherhood, and myself. There’s no way to prepare for the silence where a heartbeat should be, or the way time seems to stop while the world keeps moving forward without your child in it. In the aftermath, I was overwhelmed by a grief that felt impossible to carry. People often don’t know what to say, and sometimes say nothing at all—leaving you to navigate a heartbreak that few truly understand. I know the pain of baby showers, birthdays, and milestones that never come. I know the isolation, the guilt, the anger, and the desperate need for someone who just gets it. Over time, and with a lot of emotional work, I’ve learned to live alongside the loss. I still carry it—but I also carry love, memory, and meaning. I’m here to hold space for you in your grief, whether you’re deep in the early days or years into processing the ache that never fully goes away.

feeling out of place

Ritika D.

I've often felt like an outsider in social settings. I’d overthink every word I said, replay conversations later, and wonder if I came off as “too quiet,” “too intense,” or just... off. Parties drained me. Small talk felt like a performance. I used to beat myself up for not being more "normal" in groups. But slowly, I started to understand that awkward doesn’t mean unworthy. I began leaning into my natural rhythm—deep, thoughtful, intentional—and started forming fewer, but truer, connections.

Navigating recovery from opioid addiction

Jessica C.

By the time I was 15, I was already seeing a psychiatrist and using drugs to cope with my anxiety. As my social anxiety worsened, so did my substance use—eventually spiraling into a dangerous dependence on opioids and benzos. When I went to detox, the amount I was taking could have killed someone twice my size. Recovery didn’t come easy, but it came—one painful, hopeful step at a time. I’ve now been sober for over 10 years. Throughout my recovery, I leaned on 12-step programs, spiritual healing, and the support of people who didn’t give up on me. I’ve worked in the mental health field ever since, helping others on their path to sobriety, including friends detoxing in my own home and family members I’ve loved through rock bottom. I know how overwhelming and isolating addiction can feel—and I also know what it’s like to make it through. I want to be that calm, non-judgmental presence for anyone facing addiction, because I’ve been there, and I believe in your ability to heal.

Navigating friendship changes during big life transitions

Carrie M.

Becoming a parent changed my friendships in ways I never expected. Some friends drifted away when I couldn't make last-minute plans or stay out late anymore. Others seemed uncomfortable with my new reality, like they didn't know how to relate to me once I had kids. I felt guilty for not being as available, but also resentful when friends didn't understand why a simple dinner out now required two weeks of planning. I was grieving the spontaneous connections I used to have while trying to figure out who I was in these relationships now. The loneliness was real. I found myself surrounded by people at playgrounds and school events, but craving the deep conversations and authentic connections I used to have. Making mom friends felt awkward—were we connecting as people or just because our kids were the same age? I struggled with boundaries, too, feeling like I had to say yes to every social invitation to prove I was still fun, even when I was exhausted. I was trying to maintain my old friendships while building new ones, and doing neither very well. What I learned is that friendships, like everything else, need to evolve with your life stages. Some relationships naturally faded, and that was okay. Others deepened in unexpected ways when I got honest about what I needed and what I could offer. I discovered that quality mattered more than quantity, and that showing up authentically—even if it looked different than before—was better than pretending nothing had changed. If you're feeling disconnected from old friends, struggling to make new ones, or wondering how to maintain meaningful relationships while parenting, you're not alone in this shift.

Reconnecting with people when you're afraid to get close

Solangel J.

After a near-death experience as a teenager due to a heart condition, I started quietly pushing people away. I didn’t want to lose anyone else or be the one who left them behind. It felt safer to stay distant, even though deep down, I was lonely. I carried that fear into adulthood without realizing it, convincing myself that needing people was dangerous. It wasn’t until much later, after talking with a counselor, that I learned my fear was a natural response to trauma, not some flaw I had to "fix." Healing didn’t happen in a grand, cinematic moment. It came in small risks: answering a phone call, saying yes to a coffee invite, letting someone really know me without rushing to build an exit plan. I saw this same fear show up years later in a coworker who survived a terrible car accident. They started missing work, shutting everyone out. Because I had lived it, I knew how to sit with them without pushing, and help them find their own way back to connection. If you're feeling stuck between wanting closeness but being scared of it, you’re not broken—and you’re not alone.

Friendships as a dink (dual income no kids), neurodivergent, and introverted individual

Solangel J.

Friendship gets a lot more complicated in adulthood—and even more so when you’re neurodivergent, introverted, and part of a DINK (dual-income, no-kids) couple. I’ve experienced all kinds of shifts in my friendships. Some drifted. Some deepened. And some left me feeling like I no longer had a place in the group chat. A lot of the people in my life became parents, and suddenly our day-to-day realities felt worlds apart. I started feeling a little invisible. At the same time, I didn’t always know how to share my own life without feeling like it might be taken the wrong way. Like I had too much freedom, or not enough chaos to be relatable. That kind of quiet distance builds fast. As an introvert, friendship has always looked a little different for me. I’m not great at small talk or big social events. I recharge in solitude and connect more deeply one-on-one. Add in ADHD and autism, and the pressure to show up a certain way—or to mask through social norms that don’t fit—can be draining. There were times I completely went silent—not because I didn’t care, but because I was overstimulated, burnt out, or struggling to respond. And I’ve definitely felt the shame spiral that comes with being ‘the flaky friend’ even when it wasn’t intentional. But here’s what I’ve come to believe: friendships don’t need to be constant to be meaningful. They don’t need to look loud or high-energy to be real. I’ve learned to honor my capacity, find ways to reconnect that feel natural, and surround myself with people who get that sometimes love looks like space, slowness, or silence. If you’re navigating friendship from the quieter side, from a different life path, or from a place of figuring it out—you’re not alone.

Navigating grief after losing a parent

Anya Y.

When I was 15, my father passed away. We had a complicated relationship, so grieving him didn’t look like what most people expect. It was messy and confusing, and I often felt isolated because people only seemed to support me for the first few months. Years later, my mother passed when I was 32, and the loss hit me in a totally different way. I learned firsthand that grief has no timeline and no one-size-fits-all path. Through therapy, self-reflection, and a lot of trial and error, I found ways to honor my feelings without forcing myself into anyone else's idea of "healing." Now, I help others who are grieving — especially those whose relationships with the deceased were complicated — find their own permission to grieve authentically. You don’t have to fit into a neat box to move through your loss, and you don’t have to do it alone.

maintaining a strong marriage while struggling with parenting

Shezada H.

I’ve been married for 13 years and together with my husband for 15, and while we’ve faced our share of challenges, one of our greatest strengths is our commitment to open communication and quality time together. Parenting two boys, one on the cusp of adolescence, has been both a joy and a challenge. I’ve struggled with things like postpartum depression, balancing discipline with bonding, and often dealing with mom guilt. But through counseling and a lot of self-reflection, I’ve learned how to set boundaries, actively listen, and prioritize my mental health, which has transformed my relationships at home. My husband and I have worked through building trust, intimacy, and resolving conflicts, and I’m passionate about helping others do the same. I’ve even co-hosted relationship goals groups with my husband to help couples strengthen their connection. I’m now pursuing a degree in clinical mental health counseling, and I would love to share what I’ve learned about balancing marriage and parenting while maintaining strong, supportive connections.

Breaking cycles from childhood

Celeste G.

When I first became a mom, I often felt like I was failing my kids. I was constantly frustrated with myself and overwhelmed by the chaos around me. A lot of that frustration came from old wounds I carried from my own childhood — patterns of behavior and emotional pain that I didn't even realize were still affecting me. Over the past several years, I’ve been on a deep healing journey. I have worked through a lot of depression and anxiety, and started to truly unlearn the patterns I grew up with. I also navigated struggles with my own sexual addiction, which impacted my marriage and left my husband feeling used and disconnected. Through all of this, I have learned how to listen to my kids with empathy, support them through their struggles, and parent from a place of understanding rather than reaction. I know how hard it can feel when you're trying to heal yourself and show up differently for your family at the same time. I’d love to walk alongside you as you navigate the hard, beautiful work of healing while parenting.

Parenting with compassion and creating a stress free environment for your children

Vicky K.

Ever since I was a child, my dream was to be a stay-at-home mom. When I finally had kids, I loved them deeply, but I quickly realized parenting was much tougher than I had imagined. I carried high expectations into motherhood, shaped by a culture where achievements were praised and kids were often compared to others. I expected a lot from my children and, without meaning to, placed a heavy burden on them. This led to frustration, tension, and a lot of anger that I didn’t know how to manage at first. Over time, through self-reflection and a real desire to change, I learned to recognize the harm my anger was causing and worked hard to rebuild trust and connection with my kids. Our relationships are so much stronger now, and I am grateful every day for the second chance I created by showing up differently. I’d love to walk alongside anyone else who wants to repair and strengthen their bond with their children.

Healing after a sudden breakup or divorce

DeJon B.

A year and a half ago, everything in my life flipped upside down. I had made the decision to step away from a high-level executive role because the stress was taking a toll, and I wanted to prioritize my marriage. But right after we returned from vacation, while packing up for a new move just days before Christmas, my husband told me he wanted a divorce. I was completely blindsided and heartbroken. Therapy didn’t quite hit the mark for me, and I struggled to find support groups that truly resonated. So, I made my own path. I leaned on the strength I didn’t even know I had, found clarity through my pain, and gradually rebuilt. I got a new executive role, one that aligns more with who I am now. And despite everything, I’ve even found a sense of peace with my ex we’re friends, and though he’s expressed regret, I know my worth and won’t go back.

Navigating the challenges of finding the right childcare fit for your family

Lisa B.

As a mother of four, I’ve navigated the ups and downs of figuring out what type of childcare works best at each stage of my children’s lives. From infant care to toddler transitions to school-aged kids, every stage brings its own challenges and decisions. I’ve had to try different childcare arrangements—whether it was daycare, nannies, or Au Pairs—and each time, it felt like starting from scratch. There were moments of frustration, where I wondered if I’d ever find a balance between what my family needed and what was available. What I’ve learned along the way is that there’s no one-size-fits-all solution. Every family is unique, and what works for one may not be the right fit for another. But with each experience, I’ve come to understand how important it is to stay true to your family’s values, needs, and priorities. I’ve found that the key is staying open to different options and being willing to adjust as your children grow and their needs evolve. At the end of the day, finding the right childcare is about more than just convenience—it’s about ensuring your children are in a supportive, nurturing environment where they can thrive, and where your family can feel at ease knowing they’re in good hands. I’ve had to make a lot of tough decisions, but through it all, I’ve learned to trust that the right fit will come with time, patience, and a willingness to be flexible.

Leaving an abusive relationship and starting over somewhere new

Yolanda W.

I stayed longer than I should have in an abusive relationship because my sense of stability was completely tied to him - at first. I had four children, but none of them his, thankfully! I didn't have family support. I kept telling myself that it couldn't possibly be as bad as I thought, and if we just had one more good day, maybe it would stick. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t love. I knew better! I'd watched my mom endure a 15-years-long abusive marriage; I wasn't her... The turning point came when I asked myself who I loved more—him, or my kids. I wanted better for them. I didn’t want them growing up thinking abuse was normal. So I left. I moved us to a completely new city where I didn’t know anyone. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But little by little, I rebuilt. I got honest about my pain. I know the violence of that last night left an indelible mark on my children's psyche, so I leaned on therapy, my faith, and the fire I still had inside. Now, I help others who are stuck in that same fear—because I know firsthand that starting over is scary, but staying in harm’s way is scarier.

Reconnecting with yourself

Danielle B.

Hi! I’m a married mom of two—a one-year-old boy and a 16-month-old girl—and my husband and I have been together for nine years, married for six. Becoming a first-time parent during COVID changed everything. It was a time of isolation, uncertainty, and learning how to parent without the typical support systems in place. Since then, I’ve continued growing—both as a mom and as someone trying to find the right tools to support my son’s behavioral challenges. With over 15 years of experience working with children and families, I now help others as a Parent Educator, offering guidance, compassion, and evidence-based tools. I’m also a certified sexologist and sex coach, passionate about helping people feel empowered, connected, and informed in every aspect of their lives. Whether you’re trying to navigate toddlerhood, balance your relationship, or reconnect with your own identity, I’m here to support you with honesty and care.

Creating a loving and supportive step-parenting journey

Jenna L.

When I became a step-parent at 24 and took on full-time care of my stepdaughter at 26, I stepped into a world full of challenges and growth. While I was essentially a single parent for many years, I learned how to build a strong, loving bond with my stepdaughter, even amidst a chaotic environment. Although there were times of emotional strain and hardship dealing with the effects of my ex-husband’s behavior and navigating difficult family dynamics, my focus was always on providing stability and love for my stepdaughter. Through therapy, I discovered healthier ways to cope with my own insecurities and attachment issues, allowing me to show up as a better parent. As my stepdaughter blossomed into a kind, motivated young woman, I realized the strength and resilience that comes from creating a nurturing, supportive family environment. Whether it's navigating step-parenting challenges or healing from difficult family dynamics, I would love to offer guidance and support to others on a similar journey.

Staying connected in marriage through life’s toughest seasons

Steve P.

My partner and I have been together for 17 years, married for 11, and we’ve been through just about every kind of high and low together. We met when I was living in Greece, and after moving to the U.S. during the market crash, life shifted quickly. Over time we built a life, a home, and a business together. But then COVID hit, and everything came crashing down—our finances took a huge hit, and at the same time, my wife was undergoing emergency brain surgery. It was one of the darkest, most uncertain times we’ve ever faced. There were moments when the stress fractured our connection, but we didn’t give up. We leaned on counseling, each other, and our shared commitment to grow—not just survive. That season taught us how to be stronger together, even when things felt like they were falling apart. Since then, we’ve adopted our teenage daughter from abroad, which brought its own beautiful challenges and growth. Our bond has deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined back when we were first building this life.

Navigating tough transitions in parenting

Da’Sean H.

As a father of seven, I've had my share of challenges when it comes to parenting, especially through the tough transitions that life throws at us. One of the most impactful experiences was when I worked with a mother of six who was homeless and living in her car with her children. She had nearly given up, but through my program, we were able to give her the support she needed to get back on her feet. We provided social and emotional training, a hotel stay for her family, and eventually placed her in a stable job. Watching her grow and see hope in her eyes again was a reminder of how powerful support can be for both parents and children during tough times. Parenting has always been about showing up, no matter how difficult the circumstances, and being there for your children when they need you most. I’ve learned that resilience isn’t just about getting through the tough times, but about knowing when to ask for help and offering it to others. From navigating toddler challenges to being there through the tougher teen years, I’m committed to being a positive influence and providing the resources that make the journey easier for both parents and their kids.

Navigating sobriety as a parent, and dealing with loss and work stress

Stephen M.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

finding wisdom in the fire of anger

Jake A.

For a long time, I didn’t know what to do with my anger. I either buried it until I went numb or let it erupt in ways that caused harm mostly to the people I cared about and, often, to myself. I’ve felt the shame of being “too much,” and the loneliness that comes from not knowing how to express what’s really going on underneath it all. Anger used to feel like something I had to fix or silence. But over time, I’ve learned that anger isn’t the enemy, it’s a signal. It often shows up when something important has been ignored, crossed, or abandoned. Through therapy, body awareness, and some hard lessons in love, fatherhood, and life, I’ve learned to listen to anger instead of fear it. I’ve practiced feeling it without acting on it, giving it language without letting it run the show. What I’ve found is that there’s often grief, pain, and deep care underneath the rage and when I meet it with curiosity, it actually brings me closer to myself and to others. These days, I’m not perfect, but I’m more honest, more grounded, and less reactive. If your anger feels like too much or not enough, I’d love to sit with you in it. Not to fix it, but to help you hear what it’s really saying.

Continuing with life after loss and redefining your role in your family

Larry K.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

What to do when you’ve been bottling things up

Nick K.

For a long time, I didn’t think I was allowed to feel much. When my cousin died by suicide and my dad passed from COVID, I stayed busy: work, parenting, holding it all together. I thought that was strength. But underneath, I was carrying way more than I admitted to anyone, even myself. It started to show up as anger, stress, snapping at the people I loved. Eventually, I hit a wall and started therapy, and joined a men’s circle where (for the first time) I could actually say what was going on without feeling weak. Since then, I’ve helped other men open up in their own way. If you’re feeling stuck, heavy, or just tired of keeping it all in, I’ve been there. You don’t have to do it alone.

Getting your life back on track after hitting rock bottom

Howard H.

Five years ago, my life fell apart. I went through a painful divorce, lost my job, and was drinking every day. At my lowest, I realized that if I didn’t change, I might not survive. So I did something about it. I quit drinking, reconnected with my faith, and started showing up for myself—through prayer, workouts, meditation, and making small positive changes one day at a time. I eventually found a new job, a new partner, and now have two young kids. I’m also a proud dad of four, ranging from age 30 to a few months old. I’ve lived through the hard stuff—depression, addiction, loneliness, financial stress—and I know how it feels to be stuck and overwhelmed. But I also know what it’s like to come out the other side stronger, more joyful, and more alive. I’m here to talk honestly, without judgment, and to encourage anyone trying to rebuild.

Choosing fatherhood over alcohol and marijuana

Nathan K.

In my early adulthood, I leaned heavily on alcohol to avoid facing my problems. It felt easier to numb out than to confront the anxiety and pressure I was feeling. Over time, though, those avoided problems grew and started impacting the people I loved most. The wake-up call came when I noticed how my drinking was affecting my young children. I made the decision to seek help through rehab, and being completely honest with my wife and family gave me the accountability I needed to truly heal. Earlier in my life, I also abused marijuana to deal with depression and anxiety, especially during college, and it eventually interfered with my professional life. Meeting my wife gave me the motivation to stop and reimagine the kind of life I wanted. Now, as a father, creative director, and founder, I’m committed to living fully present — for myself, my family, and the work I love. If you're navigating sobriety, parenthood, or personal growth,

Confronting trauma and maintaining recovery from drug and alcohol addiction

Joshua M.

My journey hasn't been easy, but it's taught me resilience and the power of support. I was in a car accident that claimed the life of my girlfriend, and that trauma led to a PTSD diagnosis. For years, I struggled with severe anxiety and, rather than seeking treatment, I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope. I started drinking heavily when I was 20, and over the years, I also used marijuana, opiates, cocaine, and Xanax to numb the pain. It wasn't until my early 30s, after years of self-destruction, that I decided to change my life. With the encouragement and support of my family, I’ve been sober from alcohol for nearly two years and from drugs for five. I'm also a father to an 8-year-old with ADHD, and I understand the toll mental health challenges can take on relationships and daily life. PTSD has put a strain on many of my relationships, but I’ve learned healthier coping mechanisms along the way. I now want to share those tools with others and offer the kind of support I once needed. Whether it's providing a listening ear or recommending resources that helped me, I'm here to offer hope and encouragement to anyone on a healing journey.

Navigating family dynamics during addiction recovery.

Calvin N.

When I first started my recovery journey, my relationships with family were strained, especially with my kids and co-parents. The emotional toll of addiction had left scars, and trying to rebuild trust felt like an uphill battle. My decision to leave my job and focus on therapy, even after changing therapists multiple times, was one of the hardest choices I made, but it was necessary for my healing. Sobriety became my foundation on December 18, 2020, but learning to reconnect with my family and rebuild trust took time. I realized that recovery isn’t just about overcoming addiction; it’s about repairing relationships and being there emotionally for those who’ve been affected by my past. I now support others in similar situations, offering guidance to parents and family members who feel like the damage is too great to overcome. The key is patience—both with yourself and with those you love.

Navigating tough transitions in parenting

Da’Sean H.

As a father of seven, I've had my share of challenges when it comes to parenting, especially through the tough transitions that life throws at us. One of the most impactful experiences was when I worked with a mother of six who was homeless and living in her car with her children. She had nearly given up, but through my program, we were able to give her the support she needed to get back on her feet. We provided social and emotional training, a hotel stay for her family, and eventually placed her in a stable job. Watching her grow and see hope in her eyes again was a reminder of how powerful support can be for both parents and children during tough times. Parenting has always been about showing up, no matter how difficult the circumstances, and being there for your children when they need you most. I’ve learned that resilience isn’t just about getting through the tough times, but about knowing when to ask for help and offering it to others. From navigating toddler challenges to being there through the tougher teen years, I’m committed to being a positive influence and providing the resources that make the journey easier for both parents and their kids.

Immigrating to the U.S and creating a prosperous life

Jimmy E.

I was born in Quito, Ecuador, and raised in Miami. As the child of a single mom in a new country, I’ve faced my fair share of challenges that have shaped my perspective and fueled my passion for personal growth. With over eight years of experience in event management, business development, and training, I’ve developed skills in connecting with and empowering others. Now, as a father to a newborn and a stepdad to my daughter, I’m experiencing the unique challenges of fatherhood firsthand. I’ve also gained invaluable experience in building communication, compromise, and shared goals with my partner. Together, we’ve worked on setting boundaries to strengthen our relationship and support each other. I know how important it is to find balance in relationships, especially as a new parent, and I’m here to offer support to anyone navigating their own path, whether it’s in parenting, relationships, or personal growth.

rebuilding your life after panic attacks and marriage struggles

Jessica B.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with a panic disorder that left me terrified to even leave my house. I felt trapped by fear, unable to do basic tasks, and deeply isolated. At the same time, my marriage was breaking down, and I seriously considered divorce, even though the thought of starting over was overwhelming. Through therapy, rebuilding my faith, learning how to set healthy boundaries, and practicing anxiety-reduction techniques, I slowly found my way back to myself—and to my marriage. We worked through broken trust, rebuilt communication, and created a stronger relationship than we ever had before. While I’m not sober myself, my day job involves supporting people who are detoxing from alcohol, which has taught me even more about healing, change, and resilience. I know firsthand how lonely and impossible it can feel in the darkest seasons, but change is truly possible. I'd love to help you find hope and take steps toward a lighter life.

Finding your way after a bipolar disorder diagnosis

Megan E.

I was studying psychology in college and dreamed of becoming a psychologist. But before I even graduated, I began experiencing delusions and deep emotional swings I couldn’t explain. I was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and everything shifted. My diagnosis made it feel like my career goals slipped out of reach, and I lost my footing. I turned to substances like weed, alcohol, psychedelics to cope. I found myself in a string of chaotic and toxic relationships, including one that turned physically abusive. I overstayed, not trusting myself to leave, until I finally reached a breaking point. Medication helped, but so did having people in my life who reminded me I was still worthy of love and healing. Meeting my now-husband helped me believe in my future again. I got sober in 2023, and even though I still live with bipolar disorder, it no longer defines what I can’t do, it helps me know exactly what I need to thrive. If you’re navigating life after diagnosis, I want you to know you’re not alone. There is a path forward, and it gets clearer with time and support.

Chat with me overcoming self-doubt and imposter syndrome

Mike C.

I know what it’s like to second-guess everything—to feel like an imposter in rooms where everyone else seems more confident, more capable, more 'put together.' I’ve battled those thoughts in friendships, work, creative projects, and even in my own personal growth. No matter how much I accomplished, that little voice telling me I wasn’t enough kept creeping in. Over time, I’ve learned that imposter syndrome isn’t a sign that you aren’t capable—it’s often a reflection of deep self-awareness, high standards, and past experiences that made you doubt your worth. Working through it isn’t about silencing those thoughts completely; it’s about recognizing them, questioning them, and learning how to move forward anyway. Through peer support, I’ve helped others navigate these feelings—validating their fears while uncovering strategies to build confidence in who they are. You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone. You just have to see it for yourself.

Building resilience and self-compassion

Mike C.

I always thought resilience meant pushing through—gritting my teeth, swallowing feelings, and forcing myself to ‘just deal with it.’ But that left me drained and disconnected from myself. I’ve since learned that resilience isn’t just enduring struggles; it’s about adapting, processing, and allowing yourself the space to heal. Self-compassion was the hardest piece. I didn’t realize how much I held myself to unrealistic standards, expecting perfection where I should’ve offered myself grace. Over time, I started embracing the idea that strength isn’t about ignoring pain—it’s about acknowledging it and choosing how to move forward with care. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped others cultivate resilience in a way that feels sustainable—balancing the need for self-protection with the power of self-kindness. If you’ve ever felt like you’re being too hard on yourself or struggling to recover from challenges, I get it. Let’s explore ways to navigate life with strength and softness.

Using creativity to process grief and trauma

Danielle H.

Grief and trauma have shaped much of my adult life, and for a long time, I didn’t know how to live with the weight of them. Therapy helped me understand the deeper roots of my pain, but I still needed a way to express what I couldn’t say out loud. That’s when I turned to art. At first, it was just something to do with my hands when my mind felt too loud. But over time, it became a way to calm my nervous system, explore old wounds safely, and begin healing on my own terms. Now, I use creative expression (painting, writing, collaging) as a way to help others access their emotions and gently move through them. I've seen how powerful it can be for people to make something out of their pain, to step back and see it from a new angle. It doesn’t have to be “good art”, it just has to be honest. Creativity helped me find clarity, regulation, and even joy again. I’d love to support you in discovering what it can do for you.

about overthinking

Christine D.

I’ve spent way too many nights trying to fall asleep with a brain that insists on replaying that one awkward moment from three years ago or analyzing every possible outcome of a decision I haven’t even made yet. Sound familiar? Overthinking can look like productivity on the outside like you’re being thorough or responsible. But on the inside? It’s often anxiety wearing a clever disguise. It’s fear of failure, fear of regret, fear of what people will think. And it can leave you stuck in loops: what if I mess up? What if I’m too much? What if I’m not enough? I used to think I just needed to “think my way out” of feeling overwhelmed. But that strategy kept me spinning. What actually helped was learning how to name what I was feeling underneath all the thoughts, to pause the mental ping-pong match, and to stop treating myself like a problem to be solved. If your mind is constantly racing, if you’re tired of second-guessing yourself into paralysis, or if you just want someone to help you sort through the noise—I'm your girl.

Choosing sobriety in a drinking culture

Jeanne S.

In my 30s, I came to realize that I had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I had always had a low tolerance, but things worsened when I started taking medication in 2020. One morning, after a night of drinking, I woke up with crippling anxiety that I knew I couldn’t live with anymore. It was the wake-up call I needed. I decided to stop drinking completely, even though I lived in a bar town, and it was incredibly difficult at first. But I had the unwavering support of close friends, and that made all the difference. In addition to my struggles with alcohol, I’ve spent much of my life grappling with the effects of trauma in my relationship with my mom. This trauma seeped into my romantic and friendship dynamics, and I found myself repeating unhealthy patterns in relationships. It was painful, but I worked hard to change my behavior, and over time, I began to heal. Now, I am in a place where I truly understand myself, and I’m able to live a life I can be proud of. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth every bit of effort. My story has allowed me to connect with others who are also navigating difficult circumstances, and I’m passionate about sharing what I’ve learned along the way.

Bipolar disorder let's talk it through

Brandi S.

You are not alone, and together we can find ways to live a full and meaningful life with bipolar disorder. I understand the highs and lows, the confusion and clarity that come with this journey. I'm here to offer a safe, non-judgmental space where you can share your experiences, ask questions, and look into ways to manage your symptoms. We can talk about what it was like to be diagnosed, how to build a routine that supports your well-being, how important it is to take care of yourself, and how to find hope at every step of your recovery.

Breaking cycles of addiction (weed, coke, meth) for your children

Kellie D.

I grew up in a home where fear felt normal. My dad used meth to cope with his mental health struggles and the pain of losing his father, but it came out as anger. He lashed out at my mom constantly, and I was surrounded by yelling, chaos, and instability. I never felt safe. By the time I was a teen, I had turned to drugs myself—starting with marijuana at 13, then cocaine, and eventually meth by 1-It felt like the only way to numb everything I had absorbed growing up. At 23, I hit a breaking point and made the decision to leave hard drugs behind. A few years later, becoming a mom gave me a new purpose. I looked at my children and knew I had to give them something different. That meant healing, taking accountability, and learning how to parent with love instead of fear. I’ve worked hard to break those generational patterns, and I’m proud of the mom I’ve become. Now I support others who are trying to rewrite their family story because I know what it means to grow up in pain and still choose to build something better.

Schizoæffection: overcoming paranoid hypervigilance and bipolar mood swings in togetherness

Tim G.

Born schizophrenic and bipolar in 1985, as a child I guided ghosts through unfinished business and peacefully mediated extraterrestrial disputes for interstellar healing. Why was I born this way? Only God knows for sure but I've learned to love with it! 🫶🏼 Schizoæffection is the process of melding broken worlds and renewing hope in the Eternal, connecting disparate ideas for better futures (also known as Schizoaffective Disorder;) 😻 I overcome Schizoaffective Disorder through deep listening, intentional peer support, Advanced Care Planning and eco-therapy. 🙏🏼 Let's turn madness into magic 🪄✨

Navigating the challenges of special needs parenting and co-parenting through separation

Christine I.

I’ve been through a lot when it comes to parenting—raising four children, two of whom were adopted with special needs. My journey started with a very traditional upbringing, where gender roles were strictly defined. I married young and, over time, found myself taking on more of the responsibility for our children’s care, including advocating for them when they needed extra support. Unfortunately, this led to a growing disconnect between my ex and me, and we eventually separated. But through open communication and a focus on co-parenting, we’ve managed to create a positive environment for our children. Raising adopted kids, especially those with trauma, has been incredibly challenging. My son, Anthony, has severe ADHD, a history of substance exposure, and a head injury, which makes his needs complex. My daughter, Juliette, has autism, which added layers to our parenting experience. I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed and isolated, especially when you're trying to navigate the systems and support your children in ways others may not fully understand. But through it all, I’ve learned resilience. I’ve become a mentor for other parents dealing with similar struggles, whether it's understanding special education laws or finding ways to make sure their children are heard and supported. I’ve realized that advocating for my children, even through the hardest times, has made me stronger—and I want to help others do the same.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

Jamie H.

Hello, my name is Jamie Henkin and I’m a Certified Peer Support Specialist. I experienced mild depression as a young child and it seemed to increase along with added anxiety as I grew older. I noticed it having a profound effect in and on my life as I entered my 30’s. I wasn’t as knowledgeable about healthy coping skills back then as I am now. Over the last 25 years, I used therapy and prescription medications to cope with my anxiety and depression, though not consistently. Unfortunately, in stressful times, when I couldn’t manage my symptoms, I turned to drug and alcohol use, which led me to hit rock bottom three times. All of these periods, included suicidal ideations, and two of them alcohol related consequences. Several months ago, I spent 30 days in a residential treatment center which saved my life and taught me healthy coping skills. It’s my goal to pass on my knowledge to you in the hopes that you can heal as well.

Balancing parenthood and a professional career

Kristi G.

Becoming a parent later in life brought both joys and challenges I hadn’t expected. While some parenting experiences feel universal, I’ve learned that others — like balancing parenthood with a professional life or navigating the world as a parent of color — can be deeply unique. I’ve also found that parenting isn’t just about raising children, but about learning how to show up in different spaces, including among other parents, at schools, and in communities that don’t always reflect my own experiences. Along the way, I’ve thought a lot about how to advocate for my child, connect with the right support services, and step into leadership roles where needed. My journey has taught me that parenthood is about more than just surviving the day-to-day — it’s about building belonging for both yourself and your child.

Deciding whether to stay after they cheat

Myles H.

When someone you love betrays you, everything starts spinning. I watched one of my closest friends go through this exact storm—her boyfriend cheated and got another woman pregnant. She was devastated but still thought maybe she could work through it. And I get that. I’ve seen what loyalty can make us hold onto, even when it’s breaking us. I sat with her in the mess. Not with quick advice or judgment—but with empathy. We talked about everything she felt: the shame, the heartbreak, the anger, the part of her that still wanted to believe in him. When she was ready, I asked her to describe what she truly wanted in a relationship—not what she had, but what she deserved. Then I gently had her compare the two. That clarity was powerful. She realized she wasn’t crazy or weak for considering staying—she was just human. But she also realized staying would cost her peace.

Gaining strength after addiction, trauma, and starting over

Ashley R.

My journey through addiction and recovery has been full of challenges, growth, and transformation. I served in the military, where an injury led to being placed on prescription fentanyl for pain management. Over time, that dependence turned into a full-blown addiction. After leaving the military, I struggled to access prescriptions and eventually turned to street drugs. A DUI arrest became my wake-up call. I entered inpatient treatment for 90 days, followed by intensive outpatient therapy, and have been clean ever since. At one point, I also battled severe alcohol dependence that landed me in the ICU for detox. Now, after over 5 years of sobriety, I'm a proud mom of two, married for over 15 years, and passionate about supporting others in recovery. I attend 12-step meetings regularly, sponsor young women, and believe deeply in the power of therapy and connection. I'm here to share my story and help you find hope and strength in your own journey.

Navigating relationship changes after military service

David G.

After over nine years in the military, I found myself stepping into a whole new life filled with unexpected challenges. Transitioning back into civilian life put a real strain on my relationships with my parents, old friends, and even with my wife. Traveling the world, facing different cultures, and making tough life choices changed me in ways that were hard for others to understand. With my wife, there were language and cultural differences we had to work through to build a stronger bond. There were moments of miscommunication, frustration, and deep loneliness, but over time, with patience, therapy, and honest conversations, things began to heal. I also experienced the challenges of short and long-term relationships during and after my service, learning hard lessons about communication, trust, and resilience. Through all of this, I found how important it is to have someone truly listen without judgment. I would love to offer that support for anyone feeling isolated, misunderstood, or stuck while navigating changes in their relationships.

using eco-therapy to reconnect with your true self

Tim G.

I grew up nestled between a National Wildlife Refuge and a National Park, where my earliest teachers were rivers, native plants, and the cycles of land and sea. Over the years, I’ve worked on organic farms, in a fishery, as a nature guide, and in youth education—each experience deepening my belief that nature doesn’t just teach us, it heals us. That path led me to become an ecopsychologist over 20 years ago, and later a neuroeconomist. I’ve always been fascinated by how natural systems shape our brains, our behavior, and our capacity to imagine better futures. For me, heliotropic idealism—orienting toward what brings light—has been a powerful tool for navigating pain, while phosphorescent mindfulness helps me stay connected to wonder when dreaming feels hard. I’ve learned that nature speaks through more than just sights and sounds; it speaks through our senses, instincts, and longings. I don’t have all the answers, but I know how to ask the right questions and how to listen with all of myself. I’d love to hold space for others who want to reconnect with the parts of themselves they may have forgotten—and remember their own “wordless voice of nature.”

exploring life goals, vision boarding, and shifting your mindset

Micah L.

Growing up, I had a bit of a bad attitude. I genuinely believed I was unlucky and that good things just wouldn’t happen to me. I saw other people living lives that felt out of reach, and I assumed I’d always be stuck in a version of life that felt small, stressful, or just meh. That started to shift when I learned about limiting beliefs. I realized I had internalized some deep stories about what I thought I deserved, and that those beliefs were shaping what I did and didn’t go after. Once I began doing intentional work to change those patterns, so much started to change. I landed a job I enjoy, started a career I’m proud of, and cultivated friendships that bring me real joy. These days, people even comment on how “lucky” I am, but I know it’s not just luck. It’s mindset, consistency, and dreaming on purpose. I now spend regular time visualizing, meditating, doing EFT tapping, and creating vision boards that keep me aligned and connected to what I actually want. If you were never taught to dream big or even figure out what you actually want, I’d love to help you take those first steps.

becoming an empty nester

Sunny H.

The summer before my last kid started his Senior Year of high school, I started making plans for my next phase of life. I understood that my parenting role was going to change significantly, my available time would increase, my husband and I would be together much more, and I had an opportunity to be just me again. Nothing goes as planned :) My dad got sick. I took on physical support of my dad (appointments, meals, etc ...) and emotional support of my mom. My kids came home -- ALOT. My parents were our primary daycare, so my kids are especially close to their grandparents. They spent their time visiting hospital rooms. My husband got grouchy. He really missed the kids and due to his own health challenges, couldn't return to his previous interests as easily as I could (softball, playing in a rock band, etc ...) But I was determined to learn about me again and build a future even in present chaos. That included journaling, counseling, reconnecting to friends, taking a class, trying new things, and basically BEING BRAVE !

Reparenting yourself after childhood emotional wounds

Angelo F.

Growing up, I didn’t always get the emotional support I needed. My caregivers, though doing their best, were often emotionally unavailable or overwhelmed themselves. As a child, I internalized the idea that my feelings were too much—or not important at all. This left a lasting impact that followed me into adulthood. I became extremely self-critical, anxious, and constantly sought validation from others. As I began healing from anxiety and addiction, I realized that part of my recovery involved going back—not to relive the pain, but to offer my younger self the care I never received. Through inner child work, journaling, and self-compassion practices, I started to “reparent” myself: validating my emotions, setting healthy boundaries, and learning to nurture myself like a loving caregiver would. This shift was life-changing. I stopped chasing external validation and started showing up for myself with kindness and patience. Reparenting helped me feel whole and safe in my own body—sometimes for the first time.