Reflections in Real Time
What I Learned from Blindly Trusting a Black-Owned Counseling Practice
I believe deeply in supporting Black-owned businesses.
As a white mother raising Black children, I know representation matters — not just in books and movies, but in the people who surround and serve my kids. Especially in the ...
Adoption, Fear, and Loving Through the Unknown
When the phone rang, I said yes.
The adoption agency told me the birth mother had used “some drugs, not much.”
I had just turned down another situation where the expectant mother had used substances daily. So when they said “not much,” I believed them...
It might look like a tantrum.
A slammed door. A disrespectful tone.
A total refusal to brush teeth, go to school, or follow rules that “should” be simple.
But sometimes, what you’re really witnessing isn’t a child misbehaving.
You’re watching trauma rise up through generations.
And land, screaming...
I used to believe that my fierce love for my Black twins was enough to inoculate them against racism. But whiteness—my own unexamined assumptions, reflexes, and fears—kept showing up in the quiet moments of parenting.
Late one night, I noticed a tall Black man walking toward me on an empty street. ...
Let’s be honest: the world is full of coaches. Life coaches. Parent coaches. Trauma coaches. Mindset coaches. Nervous system coaches. (Guilty—I’ve worked with several.)
So how do you know who’s right for you—especially when your life includes adoption, trauma, grief, race, identity, and the messy j...
I’ve learned there are two kinds of pain:
The pain you expect, and the pain that catches you off guard.
The pain I expected? Sleepless nights. Toddler tantrums. The challenge of parenting children with trauma-impacted nervous systems.
The pain I didn’t expect?
That came from family.
