09-14-2026

Hey friends 🩵

This week, a client sent me a text that I haven't stopped thinking about.

For a couple of months, we've been working together on recognizing old patterns, learning to regulate her nervous system, and responding differently in relationships that have historically left her feeling anxious, frustrated, and emotionally drained.

One of those relationships is with her mother.

After a difficult interaction, instead of trying to explain herself, defend her perspective, or convince her mother to see things differently, she simply replied:

"I am unavailable for this kind of interaction."

The next morning, she sent me this message:

I smiled. Not because she had found the perfect boundary. Not because she'd finally said the right thing. What stayed with me was one sentence:

"It's a beautiful day and my mood is great."

Just one week earlier, this same kind of interaction had hijacked her entire week.

• She replayed conversations.
• Questioned herself.
• Wondered if she should reach back out.
• She worried about how her mother might respond... or not respond.
• Would she retaliate?
• Would she stop helping with the children?
• Would she withdraw?
• Would she ghost her altogether?

The conversation didn't end when the text messages stopped. It continued in her mind for days. This week, something was different.

She honored herself. She sent one simple message. Then she let it be.

She wasn't trying to get a reaction from her mom and she didn't know how it would land with her, or how she would respond. She couldn't.

But for the first time, she wasn't willing to sacrifice her own peace trying to manage someone else's reaction.

And then she looked up and noticed something she hadn't been able to notice the week before.

"It's a beautiful day and my mood is great."

As I sat with her message, I realized something. We often imagine healing as some huge breakthrough. A life-changing realization. A moment where everything suddenly feels different. Sometimes it is, but more often,

healing is much quieter than that. It's noticing that something which used to consume you... no longer does.

It's realizing that you don't feel the need to send one more text. One more explanation. One more attempt. It's looking up and realizing... It's a beautiful day.

As a coach, I get to witness incredible moments of transformation. These are the moments that stay with me. Not because they're dramatic, but because they're real.

One conversation no longer hijacked her week. And that's the kind of healing that changes a life.

This text also sparked a question that I've been sitting with this week:

Why do some conversations consume us for days, while others lose their grip in a matter of minutes?

That's the conversation I'm exploring in this week's episode of (re)Parenting Radio.

With strength and alignment,

📩 Email:[email protected]

🎙️ Podcast: (re)Parenting Radio​

​Unsubscribe · Preferences · 113 Cherry St #92768, Seattle, WA 98104-2205