When I decided to plant a garden, I thought, how hard could it be? You dig a hole. You put in a seed. You water it. Boom. Salad. That’s what the package said. That’s what the Instagram moms said. That’s what the lady at the farmer’s market said, wearing her cute linen apron.

Ever walk into your teenage son's room and feel physically assaulted by the smell—only for him to look genuinely confused and ask, "What smell?" You're standing there gagging, while he lounges on his bed, completely unaffected. No, he’s not gaslighting you. He might honestly not notice it at all.

I often witness firsthand how the parenting journey—especially when parenting children with special needs or histories of trauma—is both profoundly sacred and deeply complex. One of the most overlooked aspects in this work is second-hand trauma, also known as vicarious trauma. This is the emotional residue we absorb as

For many families, summer means swimsuits, sunscreen, and cannonballs. But for children with sensory sensitivities, water play isn’t always joyful or relaxing. In fact, it can be a deeply uncomfortable or even overwhelming experience.

We hear a lot about the power of mindset. From school posters to parenting podcasts, the message is clear: Positive thinking = success. And for the most part, mindset tools like affirmations, growth language, and gratitude journaling can be genuinely helpful.

We’re often drawn to our partners because they bring something different to the table. That difference might feel exciting in the beginning—balancing us out or offering a fresh way of seeing the world.

“When will I get a brother who actually plays with me?” my daughter asked one afternoon, her voice casual but her meaning anything but. “What do you mean?” I asked gently. She replied, “You know, one who doesn’t get so crazy and can help me with stuff.”

Navigating abusive behavior from an adult child can feel like one of the most emotionally devastating and confusing experiences a parent can endure. Consider this: a 22 year old son is still living at home. He doesn’t allow his parents to require anything of him. If they do, he curses at them or breaks something. He is only pleasant when the food he wants is in the fridge and nothing is asked of him. He takes what he wants without permission and at times even pawns his parents things for cash. No one in the family feels emotionally or physically safe anymore.

The Toll of Control The constant striving to manage what’s outside of us leaves us emotionally drained. It creates a persistent hum of anxiety that dulls our joy and hijacks the present moment. We begin to measure our success by our child’s behavior or the approval of others. We get stuck in cycles of blame—blaming ourselves, our child, the school, the system, our family. We lose our ability to be curious and responsive because we’re too busy being vigilant and defensive. Over time, this wears down our confidence. We stop growing. We stop enjoying our children. We stop enjoying ourselves. What You Can’t Control It helps to name what’s out of our control. Here are some things you simply can’t manage—no matter how much effort you put in: Other people’s opinions and judgments.
Some will misunderstand your parenting or your child. Let them. You don’t owe them an explanation. Their willingness to understand.
You can educate and explain, but you can’t make someone unlearn their biases or do the work to understand neurodiversity. Who shows up.
People you expected to lean on may pull away. Some will show up in imperfect ways. Accept the help that’s offered and let go of what others can’t give. How others react to your child.
There will be awkward stares, insensitive comments, and even exclusion. You can’t control how people respond to what they don’t understand. The stories people tell about you.
Everyone has an opinion. But unless someone is in the trenches with you, their advice doesn’t carry weight. What You Can Control While we don’t get to control everything, we’re far from powerless. There are meaningful, impactful ways we can lead: How we advocate for our child. The boundaries we set and maintain. The tone and energy we bring into our homes. How we respond to ignorance and insensitivity. Who we allow into our inner circle—and who we keep at a distance. This shift—from trying to control outcomes to focusing on what we can influence—is liberating. But it doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a process of unlearning, grieving, and slowly rebuilding.