Where Hope Grows

Tag: Mental health

  • Sacred Patience: A Love in Limbo

    When I first met Charlie, he was raising two boys on his own, navigating single parenthood with a strength and patience that astounded me. I was told the divorce would be finalized in September. That was months ago. Now, as February approaches, nothing has changed. No movement. No resolution. Just an ongoing, exhausting cycle of waiting.

    It feels unfair—deeply, painfully unfair.

    I am frustrated for the boys, stuck in a system that does not prioritize their safety or well-being. Family court is supposed to protect children, to ensure they have stability and care. Instead, it allows delays, manipulations, and drawn-out battles that serve only the adults who abuse the process. The people who should be shielding them from harm are instead fighting over them like possessions, and the legal system allows it.

    I am frustrated for Charlie, a man who should be free from the grasp of someone who has done nothing but cause pain. He should not have to endure continued emotional abuse from a person who should no longer have a claim to his life. I watch him suffer through every court date, every interaction, every unreasonable demand, and it breaks my heart. Love means wanting peace for the person you care about most, and I want peace for him. I want him to be able to close this chapter, to move forward, to breathe. But he can’t. Not yet.

    I hurt for my own daughter, too. She should never have been caught up in this mess. When her father and I split, it wasn’t easy, but we worked through the hardship, set aside the bitterness, and figured out how to co-parent without toxicity. That journey wasn’t perfect, but we arrived at a place where she now has two parents who support her, who don’t weaponize her, who want what’s best for her above all else. She has peace.

    I wanted that same peace for Charlie’s children. I still do.

    And then, there is my own heart—the dream I have carried since I was a little girl. I always imagined my wedding, surrounded by family and friends, sharing my joy and my commitment with the people I love most. I always wanted to be a wife, just as much as I wanted to be a mother. But that dream is held hostage by a mistake Charlie made years ago—by a marriage to someone who refuses to let go, who drags this process out with cruelty and calculation.

    It’s not fair.

    Patience is supposed to be a virtue, but when does it become self-sacrifice? How long do you wait for what should have already been yours? I don’t have the answers. I only know that I love this man, and I love these children, and that love is worth waiting for—even when it feels like the waiting is endless.

  • Guardian of Light: Watching Him Rise

    Readers, I’d like to share with you the story of an incredibly resilient and brave young man.

    The first time I met this young man was at one of his baseball games. It was a warm spring evening, and I came prepared with snacks and drinks to support him, his brother, and his dad. He didn’t have to say anything, but he looked me in the eye and thanked me for bringing him a snack, even though we had just met. That moment stuck with me. His politeness and gratitude were genuine—a stark contrast to the behavior I’ve witnessed from his biological mother since that day.

    Over the past 10 months, I’ve had the privilege of watching him grow and mature, despite the unimaginable challenges he has faced. He’s a living testament to resilience, navigating life’s upheavals with grace and strength far beyond his years. From the beginning, it was clear to me that he was someone special, someone who deserved all the love and stability that a family could provide.

    His story is one marked by instability and a lack of control over some of the most formative decisions in his life. As a young child, he was taken away from his biological father and placed with extended family while his mother focused on her military career. At four years old, his mother introduced him to a new stepfather and made the decision to tell him that this man was his real dad—a story he believed for years. It wasn’t until he was 10, during a CPS case, that the truth finally came out, and he met his biological father for the first time that he could remember.

    Despite these upheavals, he carries himself with a remarkable grace. He has his moments—he’s a preteen, after all—but he’s kind, thoughtful, and incredibly self-aware. He’s shown empathy in ways that continue to amaze me, like teaching his younger brother how to take slow, deep breaths when he’s upset. He’s even apologized on his own for behavior he felt crossed a line, without any prompting. He’s not just a “good kid.” He’s an extraordinary young man.

    For Christmas this year, I wanted to give him a gift that symbolized everything I see in him: his strength, his worth, and the bright future I know he has ahead. I found a bracelet with an engraved message, a simple but heartfelt token meant to remind him that he is loved and supported unconditionally. It reads:

    “Never forget how much I love you. As you grow older, you will face many challenges in life, just do your best. Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s all about learning how to dance in the rain.”

    To me, this was more than a gift. It was a promise that, no matter the past or the obstacles ahead, he has people in his corner who love him and believe in him.

    Unfortunately, even something as simple as this has become a point of contention. His mother expressed to him that she had “a problem” with the gift. I can’t imagine what part of a message of love and encouragement could be seen as an issue. But what truly breaks my heart is that she told him this. It wasn’t about the bracelet itself; it was about sending a message of negativity to her own child regarding a gesture meant to uplift him.

    How do you explain that kind of behavior to a 12-year-old? How do you counteract the damage it might cause without disparaging his mother in the process? These are the questions I wrestle with as I try to support him through it all.

    This young man deserves so much more than what life has handed him thus far. He deserves stability, love, and the chance to just be a kid without having to navigate adult-sized conflicts. Watching him grow despite all of this is inspiring, but it also fills me with a deep sense of responsibility. I want to be part of the foundation he can rely on, a constant in his ever-changing world.

    After 10 months, I view him as my bonus son. He and his brother are my boys, and I love them just as much as any mother would. While I respect his biological mother’s rights, I will always be here to step up in any way she chooses to step down.

    All I can really do for him now, is offer unconditional support.  I hope that he continues to grow and mature into the impressive, kind, and considerate man that I know he will become.  I hope that he remembers his dad and I are always here for him, regardless of anything that may happen.  I hope he never forgets that he has a safe space to call his own here. 

  • Balancing Act: A Journey Through Parenthood, Work, and Life’s Struggles

    Lately, life has felt like a never-ending series of challenges and unexpected turns. Both kids have been sick for the past few days, and my heart aches as I watch them struggle. Today, after they both vomited this morning, we snuggled together in bed and watched Curious George. I made sure to keep up with over-the-counter medications and Pedialyte to keep them hydrated, trying to balance it all as best as I could. I do what I can to help them feel better, but it feels like I’m always in survival mode, rushing from one task to the next.

    In the midst of it all, custody arrangements shifted unexpectedly this evening, leading to a late exchange of one of the kids. With everything going on, it’s hard to focus on one thing at a time when life throws so much at me.

    Work hasn’t been much easier lately. In fact, it’s been incredibly stressful, especially with two unexpected euthanasias happening within a week. One of these was my own patient, a sweet little dog whose intake I was responsible for. I held a beloved patient in my arms as they bled internally, meanwhile my phone buzzed with notifications from home about a chaotic situation unfolding on my porch. I did my best to stay composed, but the emotional toll of balancing work and family left me feeling utterly drained.

    At home, I’ve been doing my best to provide support for my partner, Charlie, who has been sick while dealing with an incredible amount of stress. My heart breaks watching someone I love so deeply navigate illness and emotional strain. I wish I could take away his burden, but I can only offer so much. Sometimes it feels like no matter how much comfort I give, it’s never enough.

    I worry constantly—for my partner, for the kids, and for their well-being. These worries don’t go away. They hang over me every moment of every day. I spoke with my doctor during a telehealth appointment this week, and I’m grateful for her understanding and support. Her reassurance helps me navigate all the overwhelming feelings that arise.

    Today, while picking up my prescription from CVS in Target, I grabbed baby bath salts and bath bombs, hoping they would help with congestion. Of course, I didn’t get to use them. Plans changed at the last minute, and the carefully thought-out arrangements suddenly shifted. I still feel anxious and uncertain about the follow-through, and the constant unpredictability makes it hard to feel grounded.

    As I sit here now, wide awake in the quiet of the night, I’m reminded of how much I want a happy life. I deserve a happy life, and so does my family. But I can’t help but feel lost at times. The weight of it all feels so heavy, and I often wonder if I’m doing enough to balance everything. I’m determined to see this through, but I’m also exhausted.

    I keep pushing, and I know that no matter how tired I get, I’ll keep fighting for a better life for my family. But sometimes, the emotional toll is overwhelming, and I need to remind myself to pause. To breathe. To remember that it’s okay to feel lost sometimes, as long as I don’t let it define me.

    The love I have for Hope, for the kids, for Charlie, and for the life I’m building is what drives me. Even in the hardest times, it’s what keeps me going. The future may be uncertain, but I hold onto the hope that one day, we’ll find the peace we all deserve.

  • Finding Peace in the Storm: Nurturing Resilience in Our Blended Family

    Over the past ten months, I’ve found myself navigating an unfamiliar and often challenging path. Co-parenting is hard enough when all parties are aligned, but when communication breaks down, the process becomes an emotional tightrope. I’ve been trying to give grace, to extend the benefit of the doubt, and to focus on what matters most: the well-being of two incredible boys who deserve stability, love, and support.

    A particular moment stands out to me—a meeting at Target with their biological mother. I went into it with an open mind, hoping we could find common ground or at least move toward mutual understanding. Instead, I found myself sitting through hours of harsh critiques and unkind words about the person I’ve chosen to share my life with, the person who has poured his heart into raising these boys. For three hours, I listened to accusations and bitterness, all while she spoke openly about how hard it was for her to manage her eldest son. She asked me if I faced struggles with him, and in that moment, I found myself at a loss for words.

    The truth is, I don’t see her struggles reflected in my time with him. Sure, he’s a preteen boy, and like any child his age, he has his moments—he might not want to leave the park after hours of playing or be thrilled about joining family trips with younger kids. But he’s never been unmanageable. In fact, he’s thoughtful, often mature beyond his years. He’s apologized to me, unprompted, after recognizing his behavior wasn’t respectful. I’ve seen him teach his younger brother calming techniques, showing the kind of emotional awareness many adults struggle with.

    That’s not to say everything is perfect. I hear about the things he says when he’s not with us, and I know he struggles with expressing himself kindly. But the boy I see when he’s here is loving and caring, and I can’t reconcile that with the stories I heard from the other side of that Starbucks table.

    Then there’s his little brother—so full of life and curiosity. My heart aches knowing I can’t do more to provide the life I know he deserves. Watching him grow and thrive under the love and care we give him, I can’t help but wish he could feel that sense of security all the time.

    I’ve wrestled with my feelings toward their mother. I’ve wanted to believe in her ability to rise to the occasion, to prioritize her children’s well-being above all else. And yet, I’ve seen actions that make me doubt, moments where the children are the ones left to carry the emotional weight. I want to support her for their sake, but it’s difficult to trust someone when their words and actions don’t align.

    At the end of the day, my priority is the boys. They deserve love and stability, a safe space to grow into themselves, and to feel supported no matter where they are. I wish I could do more. I wish I could shield them from the hurt and confusion that comes with these circumstances. But what I can do, is show up. I can continue to be a source of comfort and consistency, to model kindness and respect even when it feels undeserved, and to love them fiercely through it all.

    This journey isn’t easy, but it’s worth every moment. For them, I’ll keep showing up. And I’ll keep hoping that, one day, the pieces fall into place—not for me, but for them. Because they deserve nothing less than a world filled with love and possibility.

  • Walking the Line: Supporting Loved Ones Through Complex Co-Parenting Challenges

    Life often throws us into situations we never imagined we’d face, especially when it comes to blending families and navigating co-parenting challenges. Recently, I’ve found myself grappling with the delicate balance of supporting my partner as he navigates complex family dynamics with his children. Add to that my worry for his sons, particularly one whose situation leaves me feeling helpless at times, and the weight of it all can feel overwhelming.

    Through this experience, I’ve struggled with feelings of inadequacy. I often ask myself: Am I doing enough? Am I overstepping? Am I setting the right boundaries to protect myself and our family? These thoughts can become consuming, but I’ve discovered a few ways to stay grounded and continue moving forward.

    The Emotional Weight of Worry

    When you care deeply for children caught in the crossfire of adult decisions, the worry can be overwhelming. Watching one of my partner’s sons return with bruises or behavioral setbacks and feeling entirely powerless to protect the other in his own situation, has been a heart-wrenching challenge. At times, it feels like screaming into the void, wishing for change that is entirely out of my control.

    What has helped me most in these moments is recognizing what I can do. I can document, advocate, and ensure these children know they are loved, safe, and valued. Even when systems feel inadequate, I remind myself that being a steady, consistent presence is something that cannot be undervalued.

    Setting Boundaries Without Guilt

    Supporting my partner and his sons has meant learning when to step in and when to step back. It’s easy to fall into the trap of feeling like I have to solve everything, but that’s neither healthy nor realistic. I’ve had to accept that my role is not to fix every issue, but to be a source of stability.

    One boundary that has been essential for me is carving out time for self-care. Whether it’s taking a walk, writing in this blog, or spending quiet moments with my own child, these small acts remind me that I can’t pour from an empty cup. Supporting others starts with supporting myself.

    Coping with Uncertainty

    Uncertainty is one of the hardest parts of this journey. Will my partner’s sons get the consistent care and attention they need? Will stability and peace ever be a reality for them? I don’t have the answers, and that lack of control has been a significant source of stress.

    What has helped me cope is focusing on the little things that are within my power: creating a loving, nurturing home environment and building a network of support. I’ve leaned on family, close friends, and professionals for guidance. I’ve learned to celebrate small victories, like progress in therapy or signs of resilience in difficult situations.

    Building a Better Tomorrow

    At the heart of it all is hope—a hope that through love, patience, and perseverance, things will improve. I’ve come to see this situation as part of a larger mission in my life: to stand up for those who can’t always advocate for themselves. Whether it’s children, animals, or individuals facing hardship, the desire to protect and uplift is what keeps me going.

    To anyone else going through similar struggles, I want to say this: You are not alone. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, to question yourself, and to have moments of doubt. What matters is that you keep showing up, even when it’s hard. Lean on your support system, take care of yourself, and remember that even the smallest acts of kindness and advocacy can make a world of difference.

  • Welcome to Where Hope Grows

    Welcome to Where Hope Grows! This blog is a safe space for sharing stories of resilience, connection, and growth. Life is full of challenges, but it’s also filled with moments of hope, strength, and inspiration—and that’s what this space is all about.

    What This Blog Means to Me:

    This blog is more than a collection of stories—it’s a platform for those who cannot speak for themselves. From my recent petition, which has gained over 12,000 signatures in support of stronger animal rights, I’ve learned how many of us care deeply for the vulnerable, whether they’re animals, children, or individuals in need. I believe in advocating for those without a voice. Having experienced domestic violence firsthand, I know what it feels like to be screaming for help, yet feel unheard. That experience fuels my commitment to make an impact—whether it’s through activism, parenting, or sharing my story to connect with others who feel the same.

    What You’ll Find Here:

    Through this blog, I’ll share personal stories about life, growth, and healing. My journey as a parent and an advocate for change. Dreams and plans for the future, including fostering a community of hope. My wish is for these stories inspire you, just as they’ve helped shape me.

    If you’d like to learn more about my recent petition and join the cause, you can find it here: Support Animal Rights: Stop Petopia

    An Invitation

    Thank you for joining me here. I’d love to hear your thoughts, connect with you, and grow together in this space. Let’s nurture hope, one story at a time.