“I’m totally overwhelmed and stressed out.”

“I’m drowning in a sea of grief (and angry as hell).”

“I’m scared to death.”

 “I can’t see how I’ll ever be happy again.”

"I'm so guilt-ridden."

"I just don't know how to cope."

"I hate my life."

Watching a mom and preteen girl eating snacks and chatting at my favorite café, I told them I’d never had time like that with my mom when I was young.

"She was too busy keeping the family together and my brother alive."

I grew up in a family with a child with a catastrophic illness. By the time my oldest brother was ten, my parents had planned four (unused) funerals for him. 

My childhood wasn’t easy and it wasn’t all that fun. Who knows what kind of person my dad would’ve been if my brother hadn’t almost died all the time.  

But in retrospect, I saw that my parents' stress must have been almost unbearable. 

And later, as a social worker for families with kids receiving specialty medical care, I got to witness a bit of what my parents went through.

I even had a phone conversation with a mom, sitting beside her son, in the same hospital where my mom sat so many times with my brother, watching her son suffer from radiation side effects as they both fought for his life, just as my mom and brother had done so many times. 

So now I help families like mine create more joy and less stress than what I grew up with.

I help them protect from toxic stress (repeated experience of a stressor without adequate support) to reduce children's future risk of health, social, and economic problems. 

— . —

After losing my social work career from an injury-turned-disability, I recently found a way back to my calling—helping people suffer less. 

First I found my topic—unexpected identity loss—and started a podcast. I interview people about regaining their footing after the rug’s pulled out from under them. 

I discovered patterns in their overcoming stories that were the same as mine.

Then I wrote a book on the topic—Masters of Change. 

Now I’ve developed a coaching program. It serves parents who are strengthening their internal resources as they navigate the grief and daily challenges of parenting a child with special needs. 

I support parents moving from feeling powerless, scared, sad, and mad to feeling more competent and at peace with their new roles and family trajectory.