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, Family Peer Supporter

March 11, 2024

I had a revelation recently and am still unsure how to correct this coping mechanism I acquired on my journey through life. I guess at this point acknowledging and identifying this within myself is currently the stage I am in. So, I thought this would be a good way to reflect through writing and see if any more revelations transpire my growth. “Carpe Diem” is a Latin term meaning “Seize the day”. This can inspire the idea of living in the moment or for today, so we aren’t wasting what little time we have on this earth worrying about what has already happened or what is to come.

I was recently re-exposed to the idea of perfectionism. Identifying as someone who struggled with perfectionism didn’t ring true for me when I heard this idea brought up long ago. To me perfectionism meant you kept your spaces tidy, and your hair and makeup were always done, you were an overachiever, and things had to be perfect in your mind until you could be proud of yourself or the work you accomplished. I do not need things to be perfect to live a life that feels good to me. But when we dove into the layers of perfectionism, something hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized that I had this invisible report card inside of me where I was being graded and I was the one grading myself. I have zero idea of what I am being graded on or my expectations for myself, but it's there. How can I live up to this potential of a bogus scoring system that I allowed to control my self-worth and not offer myself grace when I don’t succeed? I feel like I owe myself an apology for setting such unfair terms to measure my success and when I fail, my worth always crumbles in my hands.

I have always been a kind soul. The one that roots for the underdog and wants to believe that we are all good underneath the layers of our lives and journeys that either left us better or battered. We are all trying to do the best job we know how to do with the tools we have in our toolkits. I offer grace and understanding to everyone around me and keep in mind that I have zero idea about the battles they are fighting every day. All these things come so naturally to me, but I have a hard time offering these same ideas to myself. I am hard on myself. I am my own worst enemy sometimes. Trying to live up to an unrealistic inhuman standard I set for myself long ago. Hey, I should start now, I am proud of myself for being able to identify the pattern I am in and give it life by acknowledging it's there and breathing into it to see what I need so I can sink deeper into my authentic self. I am also proud of myself because I recognize it's time to start offering myself the same grace and compassion that I offer others and to acknowledge I am a human and doing my best every day.

Carpe Diem- I pledge to myself to keep this mantra in the forefront of my mind. When I feel uneasy about what is happening around me, in my body, or mind, I am going to remind myself that the only thing I am in control of is my response to what is uncomfortable. I will let my invisible report card take a rest so I am not keeping track of all my faults, and I will offer myself the grace to learn and do differently next time. I am a perfectly capable but flawed human being. My expectation of me is to live a life that feels good, not one that looks perfect to everyone else.

by Nikki Russell, Recovery Coach

June 27, 2023

Radical acceptance is like waking up in the middle of a dream and clearly looking at life for the first time. The reality of what I had created while I was asleep in my addiction was startling. The truth that I was unwilling to look at had built momentum, and the consequences of those choices were overwhelming. Recovery demands honesty; every courageous action forward balances authenticity and vulnerability. It meant I could no longer play the victim of life; I needed to be responsible for the life I could create with a willingness to work hard to heal and forgive.

Accepting the reality of the world I had developed based on projections from a painful childhood meant removing some people, places, and things from my life that were a detriment to my recovery. I felt guilty for convincing people that I was something I was not, but following my heart meant recognizing where I got the ball rolling. I knew I had placed the sad things inside me onto the world around me. When I was willing to take accountability for the life I created, I could finally experience serenity. I learned that reality is truth and that just because I do not like it does not justify ambivalence.

I realized the life that was waiting for me was something I needed to build, and when I became willing to speak and live my truth, I began to pave the road home to my heart. Looking to the outside world for validation was all I ever knew; I could not trust my internal guidance system because I had been manipulating the world to my advantage. The shadow side of my personality was extremely loud, rejecting my new life, ordering the conditioned ways because they were safe. Creating a life that reflected purpose meant assembling a life based on the conviction that truth does not always reveal itself in the most beautiful ways, but it always points me in the right direction if I am willing to face it.

Radical acceptance is a daily practice and a direct pointer to the truth that compels me to face reality. It can feel like moving into the unknown because, without an agenda to achieve external validation, I get to live in the moment, trusting life. Embracing the light and shadow aspects of myself allows me to commit to healing that involves introspection and action. My addiction, the shadow aspect of myself, ruled my life without my permission and created chaos, but it protected me from my childhood. Although that protection is long past due, I honor and respect it because it kept me alive. Although it remains with me today, I can see it for what it is, and it rarely influences my behavior but allows me to understand my past and have compassion for myself and others. Recovery is radical acceptance from a disease that tried to teach me survival in a scary world. Although a proper perspective, it offers a defensive protection that steals joy, always on the lookout for deception. Today truth rules my world and gives empowerment to pursue happiness with a broad spectrum of empathy and a radical amount of acceptance.