All Posts

If you are a mom in Detroit, chances are you know this feeling. The alarm goes off and the day begins before you’ve even had a moment to breathe. You’re packing lunches, doing drop-offs, answering emails, folding laundry, preparing dinner, managing schedules, and making sure everyone else is okay. And if we’re honest, many of us are also being pulled on by our partners or spouses. Everyone needs something from us. We are everything to everybody. But who is pouring into us?

Grief is often viewed as something therapists help others manage. What is less recognized is that therapists carry their own grief alongside their clients every day. Being the person who holds space for others’ pain does not make you immune to loss, sadness, or emotional exhaustion. This post explores the reality of living with grief as a therapist, the loneliness that can come with being the “strong one,” and why true healing requires acknowledging your own needs while suppo

Let’s just get this out the way: Nothing—and I mean nothing —fully prepares you for becoming a mother. Not the baby shower games. Not the registry. Not the unsolicited advice from Auntie who “did it with four kids and no help.” Not even the parenting books that swear they’ve cracked the code (spoiler: they haven’t). Becoming a new mom is like being handed the most precious thing in the world… while you’re sleep-deprived, bleeding, hormonal, Googling “is this normal” at 3:42 a

Nobody tells you that becoming a mom feels like starting a job you weren’t trained for — while sleep-deprived, hormonal, and emotionally responsible for a whole human. They don’t tell you what it feels like when love doesn’t arrive on schedule. Or how shame creeps in when bonding feels harder than expected. You can love your child deeply and still feel overwhelmed. You can be grateful and grieving at the same time. And if motherhood cracked open grief you thought you alrea