by Kayla Myers, Peer Support coordinator

July 21, 2025

Every year, National Parents’ Day comes and goes, and honestly, I didn’t even know it existed until a few years ago. There are no balloons or wrapped gifts. No themed parties, school plays, or glittery cards like we see on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. And honestly? That’s what makes it feel more real to me.

Parenting doesn’t usually look like a greeting card. It’s unfiltered. It’s behind the scenes. It’s deeply personal. It’s also the hardest, but most sacred, thing I’ve ever done.

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.

And yet, even in the chaos, there is so much beauty.

There’s laughter that echoes through the house, sometimes because of something silly, sometimes for no reason at all. There are milestones—and messy milestones. Little victories that might go unnoticed by the world, but mean everything to us. There are those quiet, sacred moments when I look at my kids and catch a glimpse of the people they’re becoming, and I think, “I get to be their mom.” That thought alone has carried me through some of the toughest days.

Parenting doesn’t come with a manual. I learned that fast the day I brought my oldest home from the hospital. And no two parenting journeys look the same. There are seasons of pure joy, and there are seasons that feel like sheer survival. I’ve had to learn to let go of the idea that I need to do it all on my own. I’ve leaned on the support of other parents. I’ve asked for help, even when it was hard. And I’ve reminded myself that perfection isn’t the goal, presence is.

So this month, in honor of National Parents’ Day, I want to pause and recognize all of us who are simply doing the best we can.

Whether you’re a birth parent, adoptive parent, foster parent, bonus parent, grandparent raising grandchildren, or a chosen parent, your love matters. Your consistency matters. YOU matter.

Let’s keep building each other up. Let’s offer grace instead of guilt. Let’s remind ourselves—and each other—that even on the hardest days, we are doing something deeply meaningful.

Because at the heart of parenting lies a quiet, powerful truth: we are shaping lives with our love. It may be messy. It may be imperfect. But it is real and it is enough.

From one parent to another: Happy National Parents’ Day. You’re doing better than you think.

With love and solidarity,
A fellow mom who gets it

(Edited and Enhanced by ChatGPT)

by Kayla Myers, Peer Support coordinator

June 24, 2025

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.

As moms, we see their hearts before the world tells them to hide them. We see the quiet anxiety before the tough-guy mask forms. We know the pressure they carry in silence, the self-doubt buried behind humor, the frustration when they don’t have the words to explain what’s going on inside.

June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. And if it reminds me of anything, it’s this:

We don’t just need to raise good men.
We need to raise whole men.

Men who know it's okay to ask for help.
Men who’ve had practice expressing what they feel.
Men who’ve seen someone care about what’s happening beneath the surface.

Here’s what I’m doing, or I should say, what I’m trying, daily:

• I ask them how they’re feeling, and I try not to rush past the silence.
• I talk about therapy like it’s normal, because it is.
• I praise emotional honesty just as much as achievements.
• I work on asking for help myself, because they’re always watching.

In my eyes, no boy should grow up believing his feelings make him weak.

So, whether you're a parent, an aunt, a coach, a teacher, or a friend, be part of the voice that says:

You don’t have to pretend you're okay when you’re not.
You’re not less of a man for needing support.
You’re more of one for knowing when to reach out.

To my sons, and all the boys growing into men:
Your mind matters.
Your emotions matter.
You matter.

Let’s raise them to believe it.

(Edited and Enhanced with ChatGPT)

Written by Kayla Myer
Edited and Enhanced by ChatGPT

February 25, 2025

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.

The "winter blues" is a common term used to describe the seasonal dip in mood that many people experience. For some, it can manifest as mild sadness, fatigue, or irritability. For others, it may develop into something more severe, such as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), a form of depression triggered by seasonal changes. While the severity varies, the struggle is real, and acknowledging it is the first step toward finding relief (generated using ChatGPT).

For myself, once I started to understand how the “winter blues” manifested in me, I was able to implement my wellness tools into moments that felt daunting. Over the years, I’ve learned that small, intentional actions can make a big difference. Here are some approaches that have helped both myself and those I support:

1. Embrace the Light

Sunlight plays a crucial role in regulating our mood. If you can, try to get outside during daylight hours, even if it’s just for a short walk. If natural sunlight is scarce, consider using a light therapy lamp, which can help mimic the benefits of natural light and improve mood.

2. Stay Active

Exercise is a powerful mood booster. It doesn’t have to be intense, even gentle movements like yoga, stretching, or a short dance session can help release endorphins and combat sluggishness.

3. Connect with Others

Isolation often worsens the winter blues. Reaching out to my support system helps me stay grounded. Even a simple text, phone call, or video chat can lift my spirits and remind me that I’m not alone.

4. Nourish Your Body and Mind

What we eat can impact how we feel. Incorporating nutrient-rich foods into my diet, including vitamins, and whole foods that fuel my body. Equally important, nourish your mind. I practice mindfulness, gratitude, or journaling to process my emotions.

5. Create Comforting Rituals

Small moments of joy can make a huge difference. Whether it’s lighting a scented candle, wrapping up in a warm blanket with a good book or watching a show, or listening to uplifting music, I try to find little ways to bring warmth and comfort into my daily routine.

6. Seek Support When Needed

I don’t take these helpful tips lightly because I know how hard it can be to implement them when my brain feels heavy. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, the weight of the winter blues can feel overwhelming. And that’s okay. If your feelings persist or become too difficult to manage, don’t hesitate to seek support. There is strength in asking for help.

One of the most important things I’ve learned as a peer supporter is the power of shared experiences. No matter how isolating the winter blues may feel, you are not alone in this struggle. There is a community of people who understand, care, and are willing to walk this journey with you. So, as we navigate these colder, darker months together, let’s lean on one another, embrace small victories, and remember that brighter days are ahead. Spring always follows winter, and in the meantime, we can find warmth in connection, self-care, and hope. If you’re feeling down this season, reach out. To a friend, a peer supporter, a mental health professional, or whoever is your support system. You deserve support, and you are worth the effort it takes to care for yourself.

by Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead
March 19, 2024

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.

Here is my story.

I grew up in a home with hidden but active addiction where problems were only problems if you talked about them. Outside help was unwelcomed and unneeded. For as long as I can remember I was unhappy and was told I had no reason to be. When I felt sad or empty or hurting, I was constantly being told:

• It’s not that big of a deal
• It’s nothing to get so upset about
• You have a good life, what’s there to be sad about
• Stop overreacting, it’s not that bad
• You have so much to be grateful for

And so, I tried everything to feel better, to feel happy, to feel whole. I was always searching. As a kid, I tried perfectionism, people pleasing, straight A’s, popularity. In high school it was smoking, drinking, shoplifting, skipping school, partying, relationships, drugs, reckless behavior, cutting. When I had kids and a family I went with the more socially acceptable ones: control, blame, anger, comparison, back to perfectionism, being the best, doing it all, drinking wine, checking out. I reasoned that if I just did everything right, I would feel better. As I parent, I thought if I did everything right my kids would be okay. And through it all, I felt so alone, surrounded caring, loving people who just didn’t get it. I continuously reached out but didn’t have the vocabulary to describe what was going on in me or how I was feeling.

I remember sitting in my pastor’s office, at the age of 30. I was overwhelmed. I was irritable. I was tired. I wanted to leave my family. I was so angry. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was done. I was meeting with her to figure out how to feel better. What I could do. What I was missing. Thankfully she recognized the symptoms and said it sounded like depression and referred me to my doctor. And now I had a word to describe it. I started medication. Now I didn’t have to try so hard to just live. Finally, I was starting on level ground. I went to support groups. Here were people who put words to my feelings, who spoke my language, who told my story, who shared my experiences. And now I wasn’t alone. I had people who had been there, had done that, and who had a different way to live and were willing to share it all with me.

As my children grew, they began struggling with their mental health. I was thrown into a world I knew nothing about. I didn’t know what decisions to make or even what questions to be asking. I felt helpless and alone. I felt judged as a parent. I always felt one step behind and would say to myself, “I wish I knew then what I know now.” I hated feeling like I was trying harder than anyone else and I hated the thought of my children struggling. I often felt that all was hopeless. Advocating for my children was a full-time job. There were multiple appointments weekly and constant dealings with the school. My child was unwell, my family was unwell, and I was unwell. I was focusing all my time and energy on their wellness and their treatment and their needs. So much so that I didn’t even realize how it was affecting me. Again, I went to support groups and found rooms full of parents that knew exactly what I was going through. Who I could cry with and laugh with. Who accepted me and supported me as I was. Who shared with me their stories and their tools. I found individual and family therapy helpful. I also began exercising, which gave me a routine and stability and a way to focus on something other than what was happening at home.

Now, as a peer supporter, I bring my unique lived experience to the table. I get to be for my peer what I wished I had had. I help the peer find vocabulary to explain what they are feeling and experiencing. I help them navigate unfamiliar systems with unfamiliar language. I offer emotional support from someone who understands, who has walked in their shoes. I give hope. Recovery is possible, for us and those we love. We can be resilient. I am living well, and they can too. I bring mutuality with no judgement. Instead of outside looking in, I am inside with them looking out. In my experience, the professionals help me, the peer gets me. As peer supporters, we get to help others find wellness, recovery, and wholeness.

by Jana Galarus, Family Peer Supporter

by Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead

January 14, 2023

Families need support.

The mom who must take time off work to take her child to therapy appointments three times a week—needs support. The family struggling to make ends meet due to medical bills while wanting to give their child the best treatment and resources and specialists—needs support. The parent grieving the loss of a child from an overdose—needs support. The family who drives six hours every weekend to visit their child in residential treatment—needs support. The mom who gets turned away at the Emergency Department because her child is deemed chronic and cannot be helped there—needs support. The grandparent whose grandchild has been on every Occupational Therapist’s waiting list for months with no call backs—needs support. The family who home schools their child because their child cannot get an equitable public education—needs support. The families who are tired of fighting for their child to be understood and accepted, to have the same rights and opportunities as other children—they need support. The caregivers who are overwhelmed and exhausted, who feel isolated and alone, who are judged and condemned, who are lost in a work of specialists and medical jargon and hard to pronounce medication and unfamiliar acronyms—they need support. The parents who love their child so much but just don’t know what to do, who desperately need hope—they need support.

These families, our families, need support.

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. The Family Support Committee’s vision is to establish certification for Family Peer Supporters, develop a state-wide network of families, and support the growth of the Family Peer Support workforce. Committee members will meet monthly with other parents/caregivers with similar lived experience. Members will help plan and choose learning topics for Family First Wednesdays (virtual family support webinars held on the first Wednesday of each month at noon). Most importantly, members of the Family Support Committee will get to advocate for families like theirs in MT. Because—families need support, too.

To join, complete the application for the Family Support Committee. We look forward to working with you!

by  Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead

December 4, 2021

“I have been where you are.”
“I understand.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s okay to ask questions.”
“You have rights.”
“You are an important part of the process.”
“You are doing the best you can.”
“Here is what helped me.”
“You are not alone.”
“There is hope.”

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.

A Family Peer Supporter not only has lived experience, they have been trained to effectively support and empower other parents or caregivers raising a child with behavioral health challenges. A Family Peer Supporter walks alongside the parent to offer experience, strength, hope, resources, and tools to help the parent achieve their recovery goals for their family. A Family Peer Supporter is the bridge between the professional and medical behavioral health world and the parent and helps the parent advocate for themselves and their child. A Family Peer Supporter helps the parent navigate the complex behavioral health system and engage in family centered planning.

A Family Peer Supporter’s role is unique and invaluable to the treatment team and to the well-being and success of the family. A Family Peer Supporter offers a voice that is needed and missing in the behavioral health system and in the lives of parents experiencing the complexities and stigma of raising a child with behavioral health challenges. When visiting hours are over and doctors go home, Family Peer Supporters are there to light the way to recovery, resiliency, and healing.