Truth Awakened: My Journey back to Being a MOM

anxietyandgrief childrenandgrief copingwithgrief empowerment findingpurpose grievingchild motherhood mothersday singleparenting widowedmom May 10, 2024

I’ve been avoiding this for a while now. 

For years, I wrote it off as mom guilt. 

The voice inside urging me to get off my computer, put down the phone and spend some time with my kids! 

But after Ian died, I no longer wanted to be their mom. 

I had sacrificed so much while caregiving — quitting my job, moving cities, spending days and nights in doctors appointments, managing side effects, keeping him clean & comfortable…alive — I felt like I had nothing left to give. 

So in the wake of his death I protested. 

“I didn’t sign up to do this alone!” 

I was done caring for everyone else. It was my time! 

So instead of assuming the natural role of mother — the soft, feminine, nurturer caring for her one and three-year-old grieving kids — I adopted the more masculine, patriarchal role. 

It’s true that life circumstances somewhat forced me into this position — with Ian gone, someone had to provide for the family. But in all honesty, we were financially taken care of.

The truth is I didn’t want to deal with the reality of being a widowed mom.

I needed a way to escape it, or at least alchemize it all. There had to be a silver lining somewhere? 

So instead of mothering my existing children, I birthed a new baby. That baby was my grief coaching business, moveTHRU. 

moveTHRU allowed me to transmute the pain of my loss by helping others in their grief. It gave my loss new meaning, BUT it also diverted the focus to someone else’s grief other than my own. 

Healing occurred as I shared my story of loss, educated myself about grief and helped others on a similar path. But the part that I didn’t heal was my relationship with my kids; along with a wound that festered deep beneath the surface that I wasn’t aware of at the time, which was my relationship to the Mother — her energy, her archetype. 

So I continued to escape my painful reality by throwing myself into work! 

Working gave me autonomy. It gave me freedom. It gave me success. The identity of coach and influencer gave me clout that I had never received before. People actually wanted to hear my story. I had something to say and followers wanted to listen. 

But the whisper to come back home … Spend time with your kids. They are what really matters.… kept haunting me. 

Consciously I wanted to do both! I wanted to be the boss mom who did it all; who slayed it on the job then snuggled with her kids at night. 

I wore this facade well. But inside …

The cuddles felt empty. I felt numb and detached as a mother. Like the love and motherly connection that I had for them was also lost with my husband. 

At times, I wondered how I would feel if I just left for the “eat, pray love” adventure I was craving and totally disappeared. 

Would I even be sad? 

Would I miss them? 

Would I feel anything? 

I felt incredibly guilty about this. For not wanting to spend time with my kids, but also for not being able to feel the magic of their precious hand in mine or joy of all their silly quirks and sayings. 

So I opened up about it. 

I talked to my therapist. We dug deep into my past, Ian’s death, and my childhood upbringing to unearth all the subconscious beliefs that were driving my thoughts and actions. 

I realized that my image of Mother was one of sacrifice, martyrdom and entrapment. I saw a mom whose identity was tied up in her kids. She looked tired, beaten up and depleted. 

Compared to the grief coach and influencer image I had built up — getting invitations to be on Good Morning America and the Bachelor — I wanted nothing to do with this image of Mother. 

She was everything I was striving NOT to become. 

As we unpacked this image more and more, I realized it originated from my very own childhood. 

Now, if you're a parent reading this you’ve got to remember …

It’s not always what happens to us as kids. It’s what we made it mean. 

In my family, my dad was the breadwinner. He “wore the pants”, set high expectations for his kids, and instilled core values of discipline, career and financial independence. 

My mom was the sacrificial lamb. She gave up her career, her freedom, her worthiness (in my eyes) to be at home with us. 

But to her…raising three kids was her purpose. It wasn’t a sacrifice. It filled her to her core and brought her more meaning than any degree of social clout or a successful business ever could. And to her three kids, she made a tremendous impact on us staying at home to raise us.

As I started to unpack these images, I realized why I was so drawn to this successful, boss babe persona. She represented all the values my dad had so deeply infused within me. While the tender mother didn’t align with them at all. 

This awareness was the first step toward healing my relationship with the mother archetype.

Now I had evidence of why I avoided the role of mother … 

  • The pain of raising two kids alone who reminded me of their dead dad 
  • The childhood image of mother that I associated with sacrifice and entrapment 

The next step was to accept that I was feeling this way. There was nothing wrong with me! So with self-love and compassion, I started to adjust these beliefs. 

My first task was to confront the pain and grief! I had to grieve the mother I was when my husband was alive in order to accept my new gig as a solo mom. The second was to define my own core values (not my dad’s) and create an image of a mother that aligned with me now. 

As I re-programmed my subconscious beliefs about motherhood I started to see new possibilities for how I could fit this role. However, a lot of the work felt cerebral. It was led by my head. My heart still felt closed off and desensitized. 

So I did something I have never done before…

I attended my first psilocybin ceremony. 

(That’s right. I ate magical mushrooms!)

The ceremony was incredibly intentional. It was held by a group in Boulder who vetted each participant before joining the group, ensuring that everyone was there for healing purposes. 

They created safety in the space — walking us through what to expect and explaining in detail how to work with the medicine. 

I was nervous to begin. I had no idea what the medicine might show me. But I chose to surrender. 

I swallowed the mushrooms with an earthy cup of cacao. Put on my blindfold — total darkness. Then I bathed in sound and angelic voices from the group facilitators, as I began my deep journey within.

I saw a range of wild, haunting and beautiful images that unlocked profound shifts within my five hour deep dive. But the one that served as the antidote to my relationship with my kids, was revisiting the beach house where Ian was lying in a hospital bed, one month before his death. 

I saw myself walking around like a zombie — bathing my dying husband, administering his morphine, pouring Cheerios for the kids, and picking up around the house. 

I was emotionless. There but not there

I witnessed Izzy saying goodbye to her daddy. Theo taking his first steps as his dad taking his last. I saw the intense emotional charge of the situation — how close to death and life itself we were — and how my body didn’t carry the slightest current. 

I saw how much I dissociated — how I completely shut off and blocked out the pain. And how inadvertently, how it also shut down my ability to love. 

Somewhere between consciousness and dreaming, I found myself curled up in the fetal position with tears streaming down my face. Frozen in this ethereal state, it felt like I was shouting to both of my kids — I love you SO much! It felt desperate and pleading. I wanted them to know how much I loved them, how much my heart ached; and to explain why I just couldn’t show it. 

My tears grew more intense, more hysteric. As I sobbed I felt a gentle, tender, warm hand rest on my back, bringing me comfort and helping the tears subside. I didn’t know which facilitator came over to comfort me, but I sensed a feminine, nurturing essence. I felt like a child being held by her mother. 

As the journey ended and I came to consciousness, I felt a visceral desire to get home to my kids, to hug them and hold them close. 

It was the same feeling I had the second my first-born daughter entered the world — the sensation of a mother’s love! 

Finally feeling it felt like a homecoming. My heart was unlocked, unthawed and open. 

I was unbecoming to become the mom I was born to be.

Over the course of five years, I’ve slowly made adjustments to the way I mother and see “mother.” It’s taken time to shift my subconscious beliefs and heal the impact of the trauma my husband’s death had on my ability to be a present and deeply love my kids. 

I’ve started caring less about revenue goals, clients enrolled, viral videos or followers — other metrics that informed my conditioned image of “success” and “worthiness”— and have prioritized my healing, my kids, and my newly blended family. 

Right now, “success” means more presence, more connection, more memories, more love. 

I just recently decided to take the entire summer off from work to spend time with my kids.

And I didn’t do it from a place of “should”, but from a space of total embodiment and true alignment. 

I share this message with you because there are many times in life that you might find yourself torn between two voices within. 

One voice is telling you to, Quit the boring job. You are meant for more. Your dream life is awaiting! 

While the other says,  Are you crazy? You’d got it made! Keep a low profile and play it safe. 

Neither of the voices are wrong.  But there is only one that is true

And my journey back to “Mother” has taught me that no one can decipher what’s true beside YOU and that the truth doesn’t arrive easily. 

It takes time. Intention. Curiosity and openness.

It takes stillness. To listen. Patience. To wait for the answers to arrive. 

It takes vulnerability. To look at the parts of yourself that you’d rather not see. To own the ugly, forbidden, taboo thoughts and behaviors that we all have but we hide in the shadows and drive us to numb, get physically ill, anxious or depressed. 

It takes grace and self-love to accept yourself for where you were at — for having these thoughts and behaviors in the first place. Compassion is key.

  • Had I not admitted the ugly truth that I didn’t want to be my kids mom. 
  • Had I not gotten curious about why I didn't feel any love with their embrace. 
  • Had I not accepted exactly where I was at in the process of self-discovery and healing. 

Then I wouldn’t have discovered the root cause of my avoidance! 


And it’s the truth that will set you free. 

I hope this message unlocks something within you. 

Whether it's a renewed appreciation for your children or your own mom; the role you wear as mom or her archetype; or an invitation to look at your own shadows and journey within. 

You have a TRUTH! 

Maybe you are living it. Maybe you are not?

But if you start to hear the whispers of your soul. Really listen. Don’t write it off with an easy label like mom guilt or fear. There might be very valid reasons for why you are feeling that way. 

Perhaps it is your truth awakening!

Please read with openness and curiosity and notice what resonates and shifts within your internal world. ♥

👉🏞I'm eager to hear your thoughts, click HERE to comment your experience on my latest IG post!


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