Month: June 2025

After my Father’s Day blog, I received an email that really made me stop and think:

“I wish I was ‘no-contact’ like you. It would be so much easier to deal with than the constant guilt, grief and stress I’m facing.”

I reflected on those words for a long time. 

I remember being in this same exact position some years ago. Where I felt like every text, every call demanded a response and every missed visit, birthday, holiday or other special occasion, required justification, and an apology. 😔

It was a time that caused me a great deal of stress and struggle:

The endless doubt. The feeling of never being good enough; never being able to do the right thing, always failing to please my family of origin.

No matter how much I had been hurt by them – my gut contorted itself into guilt-laden, thought-spaghetti:

⚡️“I should show up” 

⚡️“I should call”

⚡️“I should send a card”

⚡️“I should be a good daughter” 

⚡️ “I should, I should, I should”… 

This kind of pressure to behave or show up in “expected” and conditioned ways –  is not only exhausting, but often futile, and is unfortunately, a pattern that’s extremely common among trauma survivors of all kinds.

 

A no-win situation:

I can vividly remember this place of longing for peace amidst the turmoil and pain that our fellow community-member describes, and perhaps you’re familiar with it too.

Because it speaks to a deep truth about our healing, which is the difficult fact that there is no ideal or pain-free way to go about this process! 😮‍💨

No matter whether we choose to cut ties or retain some form of contact with our family of origin (or whomever may have caused us pain) –  ALL of it is difficult and ALL of it requires us to grieve what we’ve lost along the way.

 

The Grief Nobody Warns You About

If we remain in contact – we will likely need to grieve our perceived inability to break free, and if we do “break free” – then we may grieve the “idea” of family. The “idea” of roots, lineage and a shared history.

And this is what I truly wish I’d understood when I started my healing journey: that there is no “best way” – no “one-way” – no “right way” for us to heal. And, the more we heal – the more there is for us to grieve and release.

Grief is an unavoidable part of healing from trauma. No matter which path you take. 💔

But, far from being a sign that our healing isn’t working – or that we’re doing something wrong – our grief is actually proof that it is. 🌱

When we’re in survival mode, we simply have no bandwidth for grief. All of our energy is spent just trying to make it through each day. But, as we begin to create safety and stability, our hearts – and bodies finally have space to feel the magnitude of what we’ve lost through trauma.

And the losses? They’re staggering. 😔

(Though my hope is that with my gentle teachings, this “magnitude” can be processed safely in smaller, more manageable pieces) 🥰

 

What We Grieve in Healing

What we grieve, often in layers and waves, throughout our healing journey may vary according to our own unique experiences. But here are just some of the things that I  – and many of those I’ve worked with over the years – have encountered along the way:

 

Take a moment as you read through these to notice anything that particularly stands out for you..

 

💔 The childhood and innocence that was stolen – The innocence, the carefree moments, the feeling of being unconditionally loved, safe and protected. We grieve the little one who had to grow up too fast.

💔 The protection that never came – Why wasn’t I kept safe? Why was I placed in harm’s way? Why didn’t anyone notice – or if they did – why did they turn a blind eye? Why didn’t they care or step in? Why didn’t they choose me over their own needs, addictions, or denial?

💔 The unfairness of having to do their job – Why was I parentified or thrust into the role of “care-taker?” Why should I have to re-parent my inner child now when they should have parented me for real back then? Why am I spending my adult years learning basic self-care and emotional regulation that should have been modeled for me in childhood? 

💔 The injustice of abuse – Why am I struggling to release the negative beliefs, patterns and self-loathing that they instilled, while they carry on as if nothing happened?

💔 The time we’ll never get back – Years spent just surviving instead of thriving. Watching peers grow, thrive and succeed while we feel stuck or stagnant, perhaps battling depression, anxiety, addiction or living with pain or a chronic illness. Feeling like we’re stumbling through life, decades behind.

💔 The relationships that could have been – The healthy family dynamics we deserved. The secure attachments. The people who should have protected us but didn’t. What does “love” even mean?

💔 The milestones celebrated alone – Achievements without safe family to share them. Holidays that highlight what’s missing. Birthdays or anniversaries that bring sadness instead of joy.

💔 The questions with no answers – Family history, medical information, shrouded in secrecy; stories about our early years that died with broken relationships or a childhood peppered with people who excelled at gaslighting back then and cannot be trusted to tell the truth now.

💔 Unfulfilled potential and lost hopes and dreams – Wondering “who we could have been” without the trauma. The dreams that were squashed or stifled. The bright, bubbly spirit that could have soared – had it not been squished.

All of this – and more – is what we have to grieve.

What do you find yourself grieving, missing or longing for most?

For me, this grief hits hardest around Christmas-time. 🎄I miss the idea of mixing fruit-cake batter and licking the spoon, eating English candies and mince pies while singing carols and decorating the tree. 

I do my best to recreate the moments that bring me joy, inter-weaving new traditions that we’ve built with our kids: puzzles and movie nights with hot chocolate in our matching pjs are new favorites! 🧩☕️ 

But, as I listen to my husband’s family laugh and reminisce, I can’t help but feel melancholy. 

I feel separate, far from “family” and the country where I grew up, and at times, deeply lonely. 🎄💔

 

The Invisible Losses and Injustices

There are also the losses that are harder to name, and injustices that can feel especially raw:

✂️ The basic emotional needs that went unmet – We shouldn’t have had to beg or bargain for love, safety, or attention. These should have been given freely.

✂️ The burden of responsibility that was never ours – Managing adults’ emotions, keeping family secrets, being the “parentified child” or “care-taker” who held everyone and everything together.

✂️ The healing work that should have been theirs – Why are we still learning to love ourselves when they should have shown us that we were loveable? Why do we still blame ourselves for the pain they caused?

✂️ The feeling of safety we never knew – Grieving the cost of hypervigilance. What joy and connection have we lost to our constant need to scan for danger – instead of experiencing ease and peace?

✂️ The trust that was shattered – Mourning our natural ability to believe in people’s goodness, to feel secure in relationships, to assume positive intent.

✂️ The struggle to form loving relationships – for those of us who experienced sexual trauma – there can be a deep and visceral grief that surrounds our struggles to feel safe enough to be open to intimacy in our relationships today.

✂️ The confidence that was stolen – Grieving the self-worth that should have been nurtured. The voice that was silenced. The visibility that still scares us. The dreams that felt too dangerous to pursue.

 

The Anger That’s an Essential Part of Grief

One part of grieving that is not talked about enough, is how our grief often goes hand – in – hand with anger. 

This kind of “righteous” or “protective anger” is like a loyal friend. It’s the part of us that’s been trying so hard to keep us safe. The part of us that’s showing up now that we’re finally able to recognize the ways our boundaries were violated or not respected back then.

But anger can be challenging for many trauma survivors to sit with.

Grief and sadness can feel passive and therefore somehow safer or more acceptable. (I know this was certainly true for me growing up; if I was sad, I was “docile and manageable!”)

Anger, on the other hand, especially if we grew up around explosive anger or rage, can feel deeply unsafe. And can lead us to wonder:

“But if I feel my anger, doesn’t that make me just like them?”

 

Our anger is actually a necessary part of our grieving process..

Far from making us like them, our anger shows us that something was not right. It shows us the places that we need to grieve. And – it creates the necessary space for us to grieve.

This rage/grief has a very particular voice that’s heavily rooted in ideas of fairness and justice. You may have heard it say things like:

 

🌀 Why is it my job to heal this?

🌀 Why should I have to learn to soothe myself when they should have taught me I was worthy of comfort?

🌀 Why should I have to practice saying “I love you” (and believing it!) to myself in the mirror when they should have said it every day?

🌀 Why should I have to create the safety they should have provided?

Please know that this anger and this grief is valid and it’s an essential part of our healing – it’s healthy. It’s proof that we’re beginning to understand that we deserved better. 🔥♥️

 

But here’s the uncomfortable truth about healing…

Even though the abuse we experienced was never, ever our fault – our healing is our responsibility. And that truth is simultaneously difficult and empowering.

They couldn’t give what they didn’t have the capacity to give back then. 

And waiting for them to do the work they should have done decades ago will likely keep us stuck in childhood, waiting for parents or caregivers who will never show up in the ways we needed back then or still need today.

 

 

Why This Grief Is Necessary

This grief isn’t something to “get over” or push through quickly. It’s a necessary part of reclaiming our wholeness.

When we grieve what was taken from us, we’re actually honoring what we deserved. Our sadness is proof that some part of us has always known that we are worthy of love, safety, and care and that we should have been treated better.

Our anger demonstrates that we value ourselves enough to feel outraged on our own behalf.

This grief is clearing space for us to feel and to begin to build the life we truly want and deserve today. 🌱

 

Making Space for All of It 

You don’t have to choose between grieving and growing. You don’t have to put life on hold until you’ve finished grieving or healing. Both can happen simultaneously. And there are some tangible things we can do to help the process.

🌱 Name the feeling when it arrives: “I’m feeling grief and anger that I have to heal what they broke.” Simply naming how you feel reduces its power to overwhelm you.

🌱 Set aside time for feeling: Give yourself time to feel it fully (in small, safe increments). Cry, rage, or just sit with the injustice. Then gently transition to something nurturing like a walk or enjoying a warm beverage. 

⏳I like to set a five minute timer on my phone. Sometimes I’ll end up journaling or crying or punching pillows for longer – but the timer sets a manageable parameter around the process. This lets my nervous system know that I have a choice and helps manage any sense of overwhelm or emotional flooding.

🌱 Honor the unfairness: Acknowledge that yes, this is backwards. Yes, you shouldn’t have to do this work. And also, you’re the only one who can. You know yourself better than anyone. You can explore your needs and wants and nurture yourself in ways only you understand. 

🌱 Mirror Work (Louise Hay has a great book on this): I’ve been practicing loving eye-gazing and kind self-talk daily in the mirror. It has been a profound experience and one that I highly recommend if you struggle with self-loathing or criticism.

🌱 Connect with others who understand: Find people who get the complexity and the rage. It’s so important to be around safe people who can make space for your very valid anger without trying to brush it off, minimize it or push it – or you – away. You don’t have to carry this alone.

 

The Gift Within the Grief

As painful as this grief can be, it carries something very precious within it: evidence that you’re healing.

It shows that you’re no longer just surviving day to day. You’ve created enough relative safety in your life-circumstances and within your Nervous System for healing to be possible. (Yay you! 😃)

You’re becoming able to feel the full scope of your experience (in safe, titrated increments). You’re honoring what was lost while building what’s possible now.

Every wave of sadness is your heart making space for more joy. Every moment of anger is your spirit refusing to accept that neglect was ever okay. 💛

 

Moving Forward with Fierce Compassion

Yes, it’s unfair that you have to learn to love yourself now. That you have to create the safety you should have been given freely. That you have to grieve childhood while simultaneously trying to build an adult life.

But here’s what I want you to know: You’re not just doing the work they should have done. You’re doing it better.

You’re becoming the parent your inner-child needed so desperately back then. The safe protector. The nurturer. The one even now, today who will say  “This isn’t okay” and “you deserve better.”

And every step forward – even the ones that hurt, even the ones that feel unfair – is an act of rebellion against those who tried to convince you that you were unworthy or unloveable. 💪

Whatever you’re grieving in your healing journey (and whether you’re in contact with your family-of-origin or not), I want you to know that I see you. The sadness you feel is real, the losses matter, the feeling of injustice, ambiguity or stress – along with any other feelings are completely valid.

You’re not alone in this complex dance between anger, grief and growth. You’re exactly where you need to be on your path. 🌷

I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment below and let me know – what resonates most with you about this topic? 

With you on this path,

Karen 🌼☀️

P.S. If this feels overwhelming, remember: you don’t have to process it all at once; one second, one moment, one memory, one percent at a time. 💕

 

Father’s Day is tomorrow. And with it, a shadow looms.

For some, Father’s Day is a time to celebrate – and if this is you – I wish you a wonderful day! 🥰 

For others, however, this day brings grief, anger or just an un-namable, hollow kind of ache; a muddled mix of emotions that may not even make sense.

If this day feels heavy or confusing for you — please know, you’re not alone.

Your story is not too messy and your reaction is not too much. ♥️

 

For me, it’s been 13 + years since I cut contact with my Dad.

Thirteen years since I took a stand. Thirteen years since I said “enough.”

And yet, here I am. Still “doing time”. Still living in the shadow of my past trauma. Clawing my way towards freedom and healing; day-by-painstaking-day.

While he lives on — seemingly untouched, unbothered, unaccountable.

Years have passed and yet… 

 

There’s not a single corner of my life that’s been left unscathed by the devastating events that happened. 

Some days I feel at peace. And some days I still feel stuck; suspended in time;  the version of me he created — or destroyed.

I wonder: Will I ever be free? Will I ever feel whole or fully healed? Will I ever be able to be fully present in my life today? 

These are the questions that haunt so many of us. And what I’ve learned is that healing isn’t linear. Some days we feel strong and whole, other days the old wounds feel raw all over again. Both are part of the journey, and both are completely normal.

And that’s the difficult and sometimes cruel reality of this trauma-healing journey – even when they’re no longer a part of our lives today, their impact can still be felt at any time because their imprint remains:

❤️‍ In our nervous systems
❤️‍ In our bodies
❤️‍ In our relationships
❤️‍ In our beliefs, our self-worth
❤️‍ In the way we cling to life and hope with a vice-like grip

 

But sometimes our desperation to heal can be unhelpful.

Sometimes we can get so fixated on trying to heal and move beyond our past that we can forget all about living in the here and now. 

It’s such an understandable response isn’t it? And perhaps you can relate?

🌱You don’t want to feel stuck anymore.
🌱You don’t want to keep carrying this heaviness, this grief, this feeling of brokenness.

And so you try everything. Every modality, every healing technique—You push yourself harder, faster. Frantically.

But the truth is: Urgency is not a healing state. It’s a survival state.
It’s what kept us alive back then — and unfortunately, it’s what may be keeping us stuck now.

 

What if healing isn’t about fixing? What if it’s about softening and allowing?

✨Allowing space to feel, instead of forcing progress.
✨Staying present and connected to ourselves – instead of abandoning ourselves again and again.
✨Beginning to accept ourselves with all of our perceived brokenness and imperfections – rather than rushing to become someone new or different or “better”.

What if it’s time for us to:
🌀Stop punishing ourselves for what was never our fault?
🌀To breathe into the life we have right now — even in this messy middle of our healing journey – and even with the pain still present?

Because maybe:

✨We don’t have to wait until all the pain is gone to start really living.
✨We don’t have to finish healing to reclaim our joy.

 

A Gentle Reminder:

🕊 This Father’s Day, it’s ok to feel exactly as you feel, without that urgent need to rush past it or push it away.. 

The sorrow. The anger. The confusion. The numbness or the nothing. All of it is valid. 

We have all survived so much. And maybe it’s time for us to give ourselves a little compassion and a little grace – to pause and notice just how far we’ve already come, even when the journey feels far from over.

Sending you so much love today,

Karen 💕

 

Ps – I’d love to know how you’re doing. Comment below and let me know one tiny way you’re releasing urgency and slowing down today?

Pps – My voice is doing much better – woohoo! 🎶👄🥰

I’m writing this to you in silence – literally.🤐 

It’s been almost 8 weeks since I lost my voice back in April – when what started out as a head cold and laryngitis, developed into nodules on my vocal cords. 

I saw an ENT specialist who prescribed total vocal rest. Not an easy feat if you’ve ever tried it!  Though I have to say – I’ve become pretty good at miming and my kids are getting better at reading my lips and my scrawly-handwriting! 😆

I go back to the doctor tomorrow for another vocal-cord scope, and I’m hoping for good news. 🍀

The first scope was pretty unpleasant – not least because the anesthetic meant I couldn’t feel myself swallowing for almost an hour afterwards – which triggered my gag reflex and a panic attack. But that’s a subject for another day! 😳💕

 

I’ve done all the “right” things: 

I’ve gargled salt water, taken every recommended supplement, journaled about my feelings, tapped through my emotions, used so many steam treatments that my skin is glowing! I’ve eaten healing foods, drunk slippery elm tea🤢, avoided caffeine, slept extra hours. You name it, I’ve tried it!

But sometimes, despite our best efforts and intentions, we can’t fix the thing that’s “broken”. 💗

 

Maybe you’re facing something similar right now? 

Perhaps it’s a serious health diagnosis that isn’t responding to treatment, an injury that’s healing slower than you hoped, a relationship that can’t be mended, or a work situation that feels impossible to change.

Whatever it is for you, please know that I see you – and I’m right here with you. 🤗

Here’s what I’ve been gently learning during my vocal-sabbatical and what I’d love to share with you today: 

Even when we can’t change our external circumstances, we can still shift how we feel about what we’re going through. And even in the most difficult of times, we can soften the intensity of how we get through them.

 

 

A Gentle Invitation

Sometimes the most compassionate thing we can do for ourselves is to stop trying to fix, change, or rush our situation – and instead softly ask: “How can I be with this differently today?”

Not because we’re giving-up or being passive, but because we’re choosing calm over control – while we wait for things to naturally shift. 

Like a swimmer learning to float instead of flailing-frantically against a current that’s stronger than we are. Perhaps we can find a little more ease and a little less struggle today.  🌊

 

Final Thoughts:

Whatever you’re navigating that feels beyond your control right now, please know that I see you. Your feelings about it are completely valid. The frustration, the sadness, the longing for things to be different – all of it makes perfect sense.

And you’re doing so much better than you think you are. 🌷

I’d love to hear from you – leave a comment right here on the blog and let me know: What’s one thing you’re learning to sit with – even when it’s uncomfortable – instead of trying to change? 

With you on this path,

Karen 🌊🌸