Parenting is early mornings with tired eyes and late nights filled with worry. It’s asking myself, Did I say the right thing? Was I too soft? Too strict? Too distracted? Too emotional? Am I giving them enough? Am I enough? It’s making a thousand decisions a day and second-guessing at least half of them. It’s pouring from a cup that sometimes feels empty, and still showing up the next day with whatever strength I can find. Because their love keeps me going.
I’m a mom of boys, loud, messy, hilarious, curious, deep-feeling boys.
And if I’m honest, one of my greatest hopes, besides them eventually learning to do their laundry and clean up after themselves, is that they grow into men who feel safe being whole. Not just strong or stoic or successful. But soft when they need to be. Honest. Vulnerable. Supported.
Because here’s the truth, one I’ve heard from every mom of boys and quietly carried myself: the world still struggles to let our sons be fully human.
We tell our kids, “It’s okay to cry,” but somewhere between kindergarten and manhood, that message gets lost. Replaced by phrases like “man up,” “don’t be soft,” and “real men don’t talk about their feelings.” And those words don’t just bounce off; they sink in. They settle deep.
Every year as winter approaches, I start to dread the days ahead. Even before summer or fall has ended, I find myself mourning their passing while still living in those seasons. I know the days will soon grow shorter and the nights longer, and I brace myself for the arrival of the infamous “winter blues.” Whether it’s the colder weather, the lack of sunlight, or the post-holiday slump, this time of year can be particularly challenging for my mental health. As a peer supporter, I’ve had the privilege of walking alongside others through difficult seasons, and I know firsthand how real and heavy these feelings can be. But the good news? We don’t have to face them alone.
Recovery or resiliency stories are powerful and important. They do a few things: 1. Connect us to the peers we are working with, 2. Give value to the unique perspective our lived experience brings to the table, 3. Show the importance and effectiveness of peer support. According to Montana’s Peer Network’s Peer Support Training, our recovery or resiliency story is “at the heart of the work we do in peer support. It is important that, as peer supporters, we understand our own process of recovery or resiliency. We need to be comfortable enough to speak about our own journey with others. Being able to describe our experience in a concise and hopeful manner is important. We want to tell our recovery [and resiliency] journey in a way that will inspire or provide a sense of hope to those still struggling.” A recovery or resiliency story “lets those you work with know you really do understand how difficult it can be. And how to overcome challenges. This is your greatest strength as a peer supporter.” Whether we are Behavioral Health Peer Supporters or Family Peer Supporters, it is important to share our story with a peer as it relates to them. They are the focus. Sharing our story is a useful tool to build connection and engage with your peer.
I am a mom with a child who has a disability. Our daughter was born three months premature. She had failure to thrive, was on oxygen, and needed heart surgery. I remember receiving the diagnosis that she has Cerebral Palsy. I wondered what this would mean for her in her life.
The Family Support Committee was started in 2021 by and for parents and caregivers with lived experience raising a child with a behavioral health challenge and/or special health care need. Its mission is to develop and support Family Peer Supporters in MT to help families, who are currently raising a child with a behavioral health challenge and/or special healthcare need, build support systems, tools, and resiliency.
As a parent raising a child with behavioral health challenges, these words are lifesaving; especially when they come from a parent who has also raised a child with behavioral health challenges. Or in recovery terms, has lived experience. We who have walked in their shoes bring to a struggling parent empathy, practical knowledge, judgement-free listening, empowerment, support, and hope. This unique role is called Family Peer Support.