Why I Created The Nest

It’s Been Quite a Journey

Life has a way of taking us places we never expected. Last October, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Those words have a way of dividing life into two chapters: before and after.

The months that followed were filled with doctor appointments, a double mastectomy, four rounds of chemotherapy, and more uncertainty than I had ever experienced. Today, I am incredibly grateful to say that I am healthy, cancer-free, and have an excellent prognosis.

While I would never choose to walk that road again, I can’t deny that it changed me.

Just a few months before my diagnosis, I had retired from my career as a school counselor. I had no idea what that next chapter would look like, but I certainly didn’t expect it to begin with cancer.

Looking back now, I realize that the greatest gift cancer gave me was permission to slow down. For the first time in years, life became quiet. Quiet enough to think. Quiet enough to notice the parts of myself that had been running on autopilot for decades.

As many of you know, I’ve spent my entire career working with children and parents. I started as an elementary school teacher because I loved kids, but over time I realized something important: the best way to help children is to support the people raising them.

Like so many mothers, I poured myself into my family. My days revolved around schedules, school projects, sports, homework, dinners, laundry, and trying to keep everyone emotionally afloat. I loved every minute of raising my children, but somewhere along the way, I quietly convinced myself that taking care of everyone else was simply what good moms do.

Now, with my own children in their twenties, I’ve had the chance to look back over nearly twenty-seven years of motherhood.

One realization stopped me in my tracks. I had become very good at caring for everyone else. I wasn’t nearly as good at caring for myself.

Yes, I exercised when I could (although my daughter lovingly referred to my workout clothes as my “errand clothes”). I tried to eat healthy (even if dinner sometimes consisted of whatever was left on my kids’ plates).

But what I neglected most wasn’t my physical health. It was my emotional health.

I had spent so much of my life believing that strength meant handling everything on my own.

• If I felt overwhelmed, I pushed through.
• If I felt sad, I worked harder.
• If I felt anxious, I tried to control everything around me.

During treatment, that approach simply wasn’t possible anymore. Instead, I learned something I wish I had understood years earlier.

• When I was scared, I talked with my husband.
• When I was overwhelmed, I leaned on friends.
• When I cried, I stopped apologizing for it.

I discovered that allowing people to carry part of your burden isn’t weakness. It’s one of the bravest things we can do.

As I reflected on the many parents I’ve worked with over the years, another realization became impossible to ignore. Parents often came to me because they needed a parenting strategy, but underneath why they came was almost always something much deeper. Fear. Guilt. Sadness. Shame. Exhaustion. Loneliness.

Most parents weren’t really asking, “How do I get my child to listen?” They were asking, 

• “Am I doing this right?”
• “Am I enough?”
• “Is anyone else struggling like I am?”

And so, parenting can be one of the loneliest jobs in the world.

We all bring our own childhood experiences, insecurities, and hopes into parenthood. Then we’re handed this incredible responsibility without an instruction manual, doing the very best we can while wondering if everyone else has somehow figured it out.

And before we know it, the years are gone.

If I could go back and tell my younger self one thing, it wouldn’t be another parenting tip. It would simply be this:  

• You don’t have to do this alone. 
• Ask for help.
• Share your struggles.
• Let people know when you’re hurting.
• Allow yourself to be supported.

Because healing doesn’t happen in isolation. It happens in connection. That realization changed not only how I see parenting, but also how I want to spend this next chapter of my life.

It’s the reason for The Nest on Central, a place where parents, especially moms, can find support, community, and the reminder that they were never meant to carry it all alone.

I can’t wait to share more with you soon.