Surviving life with ADHD

Adley H.

Living with ADHD is like running a marathon with your shoes tied together. My brain doesn’t move in a straight line. It zigzags, leaps, crashes, and forgets why it entered the room. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been called “lazy,” “scattered,” or “inconsistent.” But the truth is, I’m doing my best in a world that wasn’t built for brains like mine. ADHD isn’t just being distracted. It’s the shame of missed deadlines, the overwhelm of executive dysfunction, the paralysis when you know what to do but can’t do it. It’s the highs of hyperfocus, the lows of burnout, and the constant inner monologue telling you you’re never doing enough. But ADHD isn’t a flaw. It’s a different operating system. And once I stopped trying to force myself into neurotypical molds, I started to find a rhythm that worked for me. It’s still messy. But it’s mine. If you’re feeling misunderstood, exhausted, or ashamed of your scattered mind, I see you.

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:)

Living with mindfulness and worth

Ambika M.

Through years of mental rewiring, I practice mindful living. This comes with the often loud voice of self-awareness, as well as presence and acceptance. Mindfulness is the difference between mindlessly binge watching tv that harms your sleep to numb against upset, versus enjoying one cookie. And I obviously still struggle! Acceptance also involves loving your true self and knowing your worth. I'd love to share tips and challenges as we go on a mindful journey together.

Moving from self-doubt to self-belief with confidence

Angela V.

I’ve had seasons where my confidence felt unshakable—and others where it felt like it disappeared overnight. I’ve questioned my worth in rooms I had every right to be in. I’ve second-guessed myself after rejection, after mistakes, after silence that left me wondering if I was enough. What I’ve learned is this: confidence isn’t about being perfect or fearless. It’s about trusting yourself anyway. It’s about showing up, even when your voice shakes. It’s built through small, brave choices—and yes, sometimes it's borrowed from someone who sees your light when you forget how to find it. I’ve had people reflect back to me a version of myself I couldn’t yet believe in. That changed everything. Now, I love holding up the mirror for others, helping them remember what makes them powerful, resilient, and worthy—especially when life, trauma, or doubt has clouded that truth. If you’re struggling to believe in yourself right now, let’s talk. Not with toxic positivity or surface-level hype—but with real, honest encouragement that’s rooted in who you already are.

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.

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.

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.

Learning to regain trust in relationships after addiction

Angelo F.

One of the hardest parts of healing from addiction wasn’t just learning to trust myself again—it was learning how to rebuild trust with others. Addiction can create a trail of broken promises, strained relationships, and unspoken pain. I carried deep guilt and fear that I’d never be worthy of trust again. But I’ve learned that trust, like healing, can be rebuilt—one honest moment at a time. As I began living in alignment with my values, showing up for myself, and making consistent choices rooted in love and integrity, something shifted. The people around me started to notice. I stopped trying to prove myself and focused instead on being present, being honest, and being real. Over time, I rebuilt relationships that mattered and created new, healthier ones that felt safe and authentic. Most importantly, I learned how to forgive myself—and that’s what allowed me to open my heart again.

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.

Creating peaceful systems for parenting a neurodivergent child

Ani K.

I have worked as a nanny and sleep trainer for over 20 years, caring for more than 80 children, many of whom were neurodivergent. I am neurodivergent myself and understand firsthand how much having the right systems at home can impact a child’s emotional wellbeing. I once supported a parent whose child struggled with intense emotional outbursts. Together, we created simple, respectful home routines that worked with the child's brain instead of against it. I also coached the parent on how to communicate in ways that made their child feel heard and safe. Over time, the tantrums decreased, and the bond between the parent and child became stronger. I never approach challenges with shame—I believe that emotional maturity, intentional boundaries, and understanding each brain’s unique needs are the keys to a peaceful home. I would love to help you build a nurturing environment where both you and your child can thrive.

Healing from the guilt of not being able to save a loved one from addiction

Anne B.

My brother’s battle with addiction consumed his life, and I spent years trying to save him. I loved him deeply and did everything I could to help, but in the end, addiction took his life. The guilt of not being able to save him has weighed heavily on me. I often wondered if I could’ve done more, or if I missed signs along the way. It took a long time to accept that addiction is a disease and not a failure on anyone’s part. I had to forgive myself for not being able to fix his pain. But this journey hasn’t been just about my brother. I’ve struggled with my own mental health, battling depression and anxiety, and coming to terms with the trauma of growing up in a narcissistic home. Healing from those experiences, especially after my mom passed away, has shown me how hard it is to break free from cycles of shame. Yet, I’ve learned that it’s possible to heal from guilt and to find peace, even after loss.

Healing from the guilt of not being able to save a loved one from addiction

Anne B.

My brother’s battle with addiction consumed his life, and I spent years trying to save him. I loved him deeply and did everything I could to help, but in the end, addiction took his life. The guilt of not being able to save him has weighed heavily on me. I often wondered if I could’ve done more, or if I missed signs along the way. It took a long time to accept that addiction is a disease and not a failure on anyone’s part. I had to forgive myself for not being able to fix his pain. But this journey hasn’t been just about my brother. I’ve struggled with my own mental health, battling depression and anxiety, and coming to terms with the trauma of growing up in a narcissistic home. Healing from those experiences, especially after my mom passed away, has shown me how hard it is to break free from cycles of shame. Yet, I’ve learned that it’s possible to heal from guilt and to find peace, even after loss.

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.

Finding peace after loss

Calvin N.

Losing my stepdad and dad within a year of each other shattered my world. One raised me with unconditional love, while the other, despite a rocky road, became a true friend before he passed. I felt waves of sadness, guilt, anger, and deep loneliness—and those waves hit even harder during milestones and quiet moments. I also know firsthand the pain of losing beloved pets, having worked in the pet industry for years and been an animal lover my whole life. That grief is just as real and raw. On top of that, I’ve experienced the heartbreak of grieving relationships with people who are still alive—estrangement and broken bonds that left a deep emptiness. Through therapy, writing, and self-compassion, I learned to sit with my pain while still moving forward, honoring my losses in a personal, meaningful way. Grief taught me there’s no timeline and no “right way” to heal—and now I help others navigate this deeply personal journey.

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.

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.

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.

Embracing your mistakes and using them as stepping stones, not life sentences

Holley B.

I used to carry my past like a chain — every mistake, every bad relationship, every moment I wasn’t proud of. I let those moments shape how I saw myself. I let the opinions of others — especially the ones who hurt me — convince me I wasn’t enough, or that I was too damaged to ever rise above what I’d been through. But over time, recovery taught me something life-changing: my mistakes don’t define me — how I grow from them does. Every stumble held a lesson. Every failure shaped the strength I carry today. And the very things I once hid in shame? They’ve become the foundation of the wisdom and compassion I now offer others. I am not my lowest moment. You are not your worst day. You are not the version of you that didn’t know better yet. You’re growing. You’re learning. Vulnerability is key. And that is brave. If you’ve been letting your past define your worth, your identity, or your future, let’s talk. You deserve to see your journey through the lens of growth, not judgment.

Finding self-acceptance in recovery

Hunter H.

For 15 years, I bounced in and out of recovery. My drug of choice was marijuana, though I’ve also struggled with stimulants, opiates, and other substances. I was never an alcoholic, but I found myself constantly seeking validation from others. I used drugs to numb the discomfort of not feeling good enough. My journey to sobriety began in earnest in 2017, and it was through working the steps that I started to experience real spiritual growth. I don’t consider myself religious, but I found a sense of peace in spirituality that allowed me to let go of needing approval from others. In 2021, I celebrated being clean from marijuana, and it felt like a profound shift had occurred within me. Sobriety wasn’t just about the drugs; it was about learning to accept myself fully, without needing others to tell me I was worthy. Now, I’m living near Seattle, enjoying the outdoors, and grateful for the inner peace I’ve found through recovery. I want to offer support to anyone struggling with finding self-worth in recovery, just as I did.