In The Boy with the Blue Bike, Leo knows that before he can hit the road, he has to pack for the journey. He packs only the essentials: water, some snacks, his notebook, and of course, his trusty companion, Chippy the elephant. These supplies make his journey dynamic, fun, and sustainable. But what happens when you pack the wrong things? As solo parents, we all carry an invisible, emotional backpack every single day. The problem is that after a high-conflict divorce or a toxic relationship, we often fill that backpack with heavy rocks without even realizing it. We pack the resentment over what our ex did. We pack the guilt over not giving our kids the "traditional" family. We pack the fear of the future. "The Heavy Backpack" There is a psychological phenomenon known as Cognitive Load. When your brain is expending all its energy carrying unresolved emotional trauma and rumination (the heavy rocks), you literally have less cognitive energy left to be present, to problem-solve, or to experience joy. The emotional weight doesn't just make the journey miserable—it physically drags you down. It is Time to Unpack Your backpack will either drag you down, or it will catapult you forward with the right supplies. You cannot climb the mountain if you are carrying boulders of resentment. To thrive, we have to deliberately unpack the trauma and repack the essentials: - Take out: The guilt. - Put in: Self-compassion. - Take out: The need to control the narcissist. - Put in: Iron-clad boundaries. - Take out: Isolation. - Put in: This community. (We are your "Chippy"—your trusty companions for the ride!) You are the one carrying it. You get to decide what stays inside. 👇 Let’s do an inventory check in the comments: What is ONE heavy "rock" (a specific fear, guilt, or resentment) that you are actively choosing to take OUT of your backpack today?

I am guessing many of you know this exact feeling. You are searching for jobs, intentionally applying for roles below your skill level just to put money in the bank. And you still get rejected. But this time, it’s not because you lack something. It’s because you have too much. You are "overqualified." Why "Too Much" Feels Like a Burden You constantly adapt your resume, dumbing it down just to land a simple job, and getting turned down feels terrible. Ironically, being told you are "too much" can make you feel like you aren't good enough. Employers often see your deep experience as a threat. They think you will get bored, that you are just passing through, or—in some cases—they look at your resume and think, "No, this person could take my job." Status Threat 🧠: It is not in your head. Research in organizational psychology calls this Status Threat. Hiring managers often reject highly competent candidates not because the candidate won't be great at the job, but because the manager's own ego and authority feel threatened by the candidate's expertise. The Solo Parent Reality: What these employers don't sense is our why. Even if we are overqualified, as single parents, we are profoundly grateful for a job that helps us bring food to the table. We aren't flight risks. We have the potential to be the absolute best at what we do because we are driven by something much deeper than a corporate ladder: our kids' stability. The Cocoon Phase: Personally, my own journey has been a test of resilience and surrender. It often feels like a loop that never ends. But I’ve realized this "overqualified" phase is actually an opportunity to analyze the lesson underneath it. Think of it as the caterpillar transforming in the cocoon. You are shedding an old identity that is no longer useful for your new path. Your spark is still there. You just have to figure out how to make it glow so bright that it blinds the wrong rooms and guides you to the right ones. Your Superpower: Momentum Figuring out how to get out of the rejection loop isn't easy. But in both the spiritual and physical world, the rule is the same: Movement generates momentum. Like riding a bike, you cannot find your balance if you are standing completely still. Start small. Send one email. Tweak one skill. Just start.