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.

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.

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.

Spiritual abuse

Katie G.

I was involved in a very conservative, evangelical campus ministry in college for 8 years. It was a very controlling environment where we were not allowed to date unless it was facilitated through my campus pastor, make plans (like dinner) at the same time as an outreach, watch rated R movies. We were taught to go to our campus pastor for any big or small decisions about our lives or else we would be refusing spiritual counsel. I left in 2011 and began unpacking the spiritual abuse during that time.

Reconnecting with your faith after trauma

Maya R.

I grew up around a lot of instability—mental health issues in my family, DV in the home, and I spent my teen years going in and out of hospitals for suicidal ideation. My experiences led me down a path of delusions, addiction, and homelessness. I hit a low where I felt disconnected from everything, especially my faith. But after the deaths of my godfather and grandmother, something shifted. My grandmother gave me her old Catechism book before she passed, and somehow, holding it made me feel less lost. I'm transmasculine, Latinx, queer, and creative—and for a long time, I thought there was no space for someone like me in the Catholic faith. But I’ve been slowly reclaiming it in my own way, with honesty, questioning, and a lot of compassion for myself. Reconnecting with something spiritual while healing from trauma isn’t easy, but I’ve found peace in making it my own. I’d love to hold space for anyone trying to rebuild a relationship with their faith after pain.

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.

Healing the quiet voice of shame

Peter L.

Shame was a constant companion for me long before I even knew its name. It showed up as a quiet, insidious voice telling me I wasn’t enough — not smart enough, strong enough, or worthy enough to be fully seen. For years, I tried to outrun it by hiding, performing, or numbing out. But shame doesn’t disappear; it lives in the body and shapes how we relate to ourselves and others. What changed everything for me was learning to recognize shame as a normal human experience — not a flaw or failure, but a signal that parts of me needed kindness and understanding. The work I do now is about creating a space where shame can be met with curiosity and compassion, where it can loosen its grip so you can step into more freedom and presence.

Faith and spirituality outside of organized religion

Peter L.

I’ve always been drawn to something deeper, but organized religion often felt rigid and distant. Over time, I found a way to explore faith and spirituality outside formal structures. I came to see the Bible not as a literal rulebook, but as one of humanity’s earliest attempts at developmental psychology—a way to understand our inner struggles, growth, and transformation before science existed. This shift helped me reclaim spirituality as a living, personal journey—a relationship with mystery and presence that unfolds without dogma or fear. Now, I offer a space to explore your unique spiritual path with curiosity and openness, honoring whatever calls you forward.

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.