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.

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.

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.

Healing after toxic relationships

Adilene F.

I’ve been in relationships that made me feel small—like I was constantly walking on eggshells, second-guessing myself, and losing sight of who I was. One relationship in particular turned abusive, and even though part of me knew it wasn’t right, it was hard to break away. I didn’t have the kind of support I really needed at the time, and for a while, I just kept trying to survive. Therapy wasn’t new to me—I’d gone as a kid, but back then it felt like something I was being forced into. As an adult, though, I chose to go back on my own terms, and that changed everything. I started to understand the cycle I’d been in, learned how to set boundaries, and slowly began to believe that I was worth more than the pain I’d been tolerating. Now I help others who are facing similar struggles, especially around relationships, anxiety, and feeling unsupported.

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.

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 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.

Coping with domestic violence through alcohol and drug addiction

Alea H.

For most of my life, I battled addiction, depression, and feeling misunderstood. My drinking started in my teens and grew worse after my divorce, as I tried to numb the trauma from years of domestic violence. I also struggled with opioid addiction after being prescribed painkillers following the birth of my twins. Life felt like pure survival, and there were many moments when I thought I wouldn’t make it. But when I looked at my children, I knew I had to find a way out. Leaving my abusive partner was one of the hardest things I ever did, but it saved both me and my kids. I moved states to break away from old patterns and found support through a recovery coach. Piece by piece, I built a new life focused on healing and helping my children, including learning how to advocate for my neurodivergent son. My journey is living proof that even when life feels broken beyond repair, recovery and hope are possible.

Your healing journey of learning how to embrace and prioritize self-care

Alexandra H.

Hi, I’m a highly sensitive wife, daughter, friend, and person. Therefore, I know what it’s like to be highly sensitive in the context of relationships. My triggers require me to spend a good chunk of private time with myself to encourage myself with positive self-talk, journaling reflection, and poetry. I have been on a healing journey from trauma for years and am on an active codependency recovery journey currently. I have lived experience with Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Psychosis, and Bipolar Disorder. My mental health challenges have given me patience and empathy to care for those who are healing for the long haul. I have a heart to care for those who don’t feel like they have it all together and a desire to embrace others in their emotional state. I also have a heart for those who are resilient but are tired of being resilient on their own and simply just want to receive emotional and relational support. Come as you are to receive support. Your sensitivity is welcome here. This is your time to be accepted right here right now.

Overcoming domestic violence and breaking the cycle.

Alexis A.

I grew up as a victim of domestic violence and later became a perpetrator. Through therapy, I was able to work through my own issues and transform my life. I now work as a counselor at a Batterer Intervention Program, helping others break free from the cycle of abuse.

Trauma experienced by parents

Alice H.

My experience with trauma has changed my life and without recovery, I wouldn’t be the same person that I am today. I learned through my experiences that they don’t define me, and I am much more than my wounds. The specific experiences I’ve gone through include codependency with a codependent mother, narcissistic abuse by a narcissistic father, bullying by misunderstood siblings and people at grade and high school, and physical abuse. With these events, I have learned how to become strong, and I am not afraid to discuss in detail the goals you might have to overcome your personal traumas. Reach out to me today.

How to take your life back after rape/sexual assault

Alice H.

During my childhood, I was molested and mistreated sexually. This also happened in my adulthood until I got out of it. This isn’t to make you sympathize, but to show you that recovery is REAL and it is POSSIBLE. With the right attitude towards my recovery, after hating it and hating it and my life for what happened to me, I realized that the only way to be happy after sexual assault and rape was to find a way to recover from it. And here I am, now.

Addiction, recovery, and rebuilding your life

Amanda D.

My story is one of loss, addiction, healing, and strength. I started using opioids in my early 20s, eventually turning to meth. Addiction stole over a decade of my life—time I can never get back. I was using to cope with trauma, depression, and grief. I’m the adult child of alcoholic parents, and I lost my sister and two cousins to addiction. I’ve attempted suicide. I’ve buried pain I didn’t think I could survive. But I did survive. In 2021, after another suicide attempt left me on a ventilator, I chose to live. I got sober and stayed sober. I went on suboxone, joined SMART Recovery, found support through my church, and leaned on my community. I went back to school, became a peer support worker, and now I help others find the hope I once thought I’d lost. My husband and I have been together since we were teens. Our addictions broke us apart—we divorced. But getting sober brought us back together. We remarried, and we’re now raising our three children with love and intention. I’ve helped others through addiction, parenting challenges, mental illness, and grief. Whether you’re trying to get sober, rebuild your family, or find peace after loss, I’ve walked a road like yours—and I’m here to walk it with you.

Your past or present domestic violence situation.

Amber H.

I come from a family where violence was almost always the way disagreements were settled. My step father was full of rage and the alcohol just added fuel to the fire. Watching him hurt my mom over and over was terrifying. But watching her as she grew the strength to leave him for good, that was inspiring. Because of this childhood, I knew that leaving was an option. The first time a significant other put his hand on me, I was 17 years old. I had convinced myself that he would change, he was sorry etc. Unfortunately, it only got worse. After two years of abuse, I finally left him and never looked back. That was the first of many violent partners. But that was also the last time I let someone hurt me more than once. The most recent time almost cost me my life. And since healing from the physical and mental wounds of that occurrence, I have made it my goal to always be a safe spot for anyone going through something similar. I will always advocate for victims of dv because their lives depend on it.

Navigating through life with ptsd

Amber H.

I am a survivor. But sometimes being resilient comes at a price to our mental health. When I was first diagnosed with PTSD, I remember feeling simultaneously relieved and validated (finally), along with the dread of having another "label on my file" and rage towards my traumatizers. PTSD is an all encompassing term that accounts for the anxiety, depression, emotional outbursts, night terrors, forgetfulness, hypervigilance, and many other symptoms that I had been living with for the majority of my life. I felt like I could finally start working towards a solution now that the problem had a name. But where to start? My personal journey took me through years of trauma therapy, where we broke down individual events. Doing this helped me to understand why certain sounds/sensations/ smells/ places etc. triggered specific reactions from me. I learned a lot about who I am during this process and gained some confidence for the first time in my life. A very memorable milestone in my recovery was the day that I noticed that things that normally would have triggered my symptoms brought me to have memories. Not flashbacks that took me back a time where I couldn't escape the horrors, just memories of what had occurred. Of course, recovery is an ongoing project. A journey, not a destination. I still have days where I feel the weight of my traumas is a bit heavier and my symptoms resurface. That is when I try to be more gentle with myself and set time aside to feel and remind myself that I am safe, I am strong. I am doing the best that I can in this moment. Reaching out to my support system, practicing self care and utilizing my coping skills is essential to my mental health. I am a certified Peer Recovery and Support Specialist and a Certified Community Health Worker II. I am currently working on earning my bachelors degree in Social Work and hope to eventually become a licensed trauma therapist. This is how I use what I have been through as motivation to help others navigate through life with PTSD.

Navigating the challenges of foster/adoptive parenting of children with special needs

Amber R.

I’m a married foster/adoptive mom of three (sometimes more) children with special needs, and I’ve walked through every dark space in the foster and adoption world. My journey started when I became a foster parent with my husband in 2017, right after we got married in 2013. Growing up in an underserved community in St. Louis, I faced tremendous adversity. After my father died by suicide, I stepped up to raise my younger siblings while my mother battled mental health issues and was absent from our lives for a time. I had many mentors along the way who kept me alive and helped me stay out of trouble. Today, I run a non-profit with four other foster moms to provide support in the foster care system. Parenting children with special needs is incredibly isolating, and I’ve been through the extremes — including one of my oldest children attempting homicide. I understand how lonely it can feel when marriage, family, and friendships feel lost, and I’m here to listen and offer support, whether it’s simply holding space or providing encouragement in taking the next right step.

Finding your voice that's been silenced by a toxic partner

Amethyst F.

Growing up, I found myself taking care of my parents more than they took care of me, as they struggled with mental health and substance use. That early reversal of roles shaped many of my future relationships, sometimes leaving me vulnerable to manipulation and abuse. One of the hardest experiences was being in an open relationship with a narcissistic partner, where I tried to support another woman he was also involved with. Even as I was being triangulated against, I worked to uplift her voice and plant seeds of strength. Years later, when she faced the same patterns and needed to escape with her child, she reached out to me, and we were able to walk that road of healing together. My journey through complex PTSD, depression, anxiety, and heartbreak has taught me how important it is to have someone who listens without judgment. I would be honored to offer that space for you, wherever you are on your path.

Rebuilding your life after a natural disaster

Angela V.

When a Category 5 hurricane hit Florida, I lost everything I owned. In just one day, my home, my belongings, and my sense of stability were all gone. What followed were months of uncertainty, moving through 11 different living situations before I found somewhere that felt even remotely safe again. It was disorienting and humbling. I didn’t have a roadmap, only the belief that I had made it this far in life, rising from a small town in West Virginia with no college degree to leading teams, and that I could keep going. The emotional weight of that loss lingered long after the winds died down. Over time, I rebuilt not just my home, but myself. I learned to trust the process, to find peace in instability, and to let creativity, like poetry, help me release what I was holding. Now, I create space for others to explore their own recovery after loss: whether it's through conversation or writing, I offer a judgment-free zone to unpack what it really feels like to start over.

Healing emotional disconnection from childhood

Angelica A.

When I was young, I moved to a new country to reunite with a parent I barely knew, hoping to build a loving connection. But instead of closeness, I found myself constantly trying to earn affection by being good enough, helpful enough, quiet enough. I learned to survive by shutting down my feelings and striving for validation, not realizing how much it shaped my relationships and sense of self. As I got older, I started to see how these patterns were still running my life—especially in how I avoided conflict, disconnected in relationships, and felt emotionally alone. That’s when I started my healing journey. I explored inner child work, shadow work, and mindset shifts. I began reframing my story, not just intellectually but emotionally, slowly releasing the pressure to prove myself. One of the most transformative shifts came when I recognized the root of my emotional shutdown and began expressing my truth more openly. I’ve since supported others in similar situations, helping them uncover the origins of their emotional disconnection and begin to feel safe being vulnerable. I love watching people light up when something clicks inside them—when they finally feel seen and start showing up for themselves. Healing this kind of wound is deep, but it’s absolutely possible.

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.