I carried these secrets for 20 years 💔 Starting at 3, I experienced abuse that shaped how I saw myself and the world. I felt completely alone, misunderstood, and ready to disappear. But this isn't where my story ends... The abuse left wounds that showed up everywhere - especially in my parenting. When your child's behavior triggers you, it's rarely about them. It's about your unhealed wounds calling for attention. I spent 20 years thinking I was broken. I wasn't broken - I was wounded. And wounds can heal. Here's what I know: The cycle stops when we have the courage to look within first. When we heal our childhood wounds, we create space to truly see our children instead of reacting from our own pain. We are all on our healing journeys. If you feel called to share part of your story below, this is a safe space. If you're not ready, that's okay too - healing happens at your own pace. 💙 Drop a heart if this resonates 💬 Share what's on your heart if you feel called You deserve healing. Your children deserve a parent who's done their inner work. Where are you on your healing journey?

This is what co-regulation really looks like in the moment! Our 22-month old, Asteri, screamed when she saw the waves today. She said they were loud! 🌊 My husband and I had a choice: React from our own triggered nervous systems, or become her anchor. We stayed calm. Breathed deeply. Let our regulated energy speak louder than our words. Moments later, she melted into the waves with pure joy 💫 Here's what we DIDN'T do: ❌ Rush to "fix" her fear ❌ Say "you're fine, don't be scared" ❌ Force her into the water ❌ Let our own anxiety take over What we DID: ✅ Stayed present with her big emotions ✅ Regulated our own nervous systems first ✅ Let her feel safe in our calm energy ✅ Trusted her natural resilience Your nervous system is your child's blueprint for handling life's waves. Question for reflection: When your child is dysregulated, what does your nervous system do? Do you become their anchor or add to the storm? Share your co-regulation wins (or struggles) below - this community is here to support your conscious parenting journey! 👇

Sometimes the best classrooms have no walls! 🌎 💭 Share your thoughts below! If you could take your child anywhere in the world to learn something you never got to experience, where would you go and why? Or... Share an adventure you have already had with your child and how it impacted their learning!

After a tough gymnastics day I kept trying to tell my daughter its okay, its okay. What I didnt realize was that me saying that, she wasn't able to tell me how she really felt. After venting to Shanlee she recommended I let my daughter try to explain how she felt. I offered her a hug. Now when shes feeling overwhelmed or really anything, she will ask for me for a hug. I try to stop immediately what I am doing and provide her that comfort for as long as she needs. It's been a game changer for sure. Thank you Shanlee 💕

Reading Shanlee’s story about her travels with Asteri, I was reminded just how powerful and sacred these moments of connection and co-regulation truly are. My story follows a different path, but the heart of it is the same—a deep longing for presence, for reunion, and for the kind of love that grounds us all back into the present moment. For the past two months, I had been away in Alaska, working and living further from Shanlee and Asteri than I ever had before. As the days ticked by, the anticipation of seeing them grew, but as fate would have it, our return flights overlapped in such a way that I was set to miss them by hours—just as they were flying out to Oregon, I would be coming home to an empty house. The thought of missing them tugged at me, so I let my excitement and longing guide me toward a new possibility: what if I could find a way to see them, even if just for a fleeting moment before their flight? Tapping into the memory of how Shanlee once surprised me with the news of Asteri’s existence, I wanted to mirror that magic and create a moment we’d all remember. With the universe’s unexpected cooperation, everything fell into place—a miracle of timing, covered shifts, and a last-minute red-eye flight. When I landed in Grand Junction, I watched as our red truck, Ruby, circled the parking lot. I stood waiting, heart pounding, at the end of the row, ready to surprise them. When Shanlee and her sister spotted me, their expressions were pure shock—like seeing a ghost. It was a reminder that life’s most real moments often jolt us awake, a break from the stories we tell ourselves about how things “should” be. But the most profound moment came with Asteri. She wasn’t expecting me; in her mind, I was still far away or living inside a screen. When she saw me, she looked away, overwhelmed—her whole nervous system flooded with disbelief. Instead of joy, she was frightened and dysregulated, calling out for “momma.” Instantly, I felt my own fears and insecurities bubble to the surface. Was she afraid of me? Would she want to see me? Would she ever warm up to me again? I took a deep breath, grounded myself in the present, and realized—this was my own inner child’s fear speaking, not just Asteri’s. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I knew the best thing I could do was to give her space and let Shanlee support her, as I cared for my inner child.