08/29/2026
On Motherhood, Generational Trauma, Agoraphobia, and Full Moon releasing rituals:
I made a paper chain.
On each of the links, wrote something.
I wrote:
My parents were hurt and scared.
I did my best to keep me safe.
Agoraphobia is not my name.
The me who kept my world small was a scared little child AND a protective mama bear.
The me who kept my world small was scared.
The me who kept my world small IS scared.
To the me that kept my world small, I’m proud of you.
To the me who kept my world small, you are loved. You are not alone. I see you.
The me who kept my world small is loving.
The me who kept my world small is strong.
To the me that kept my world small, I forgive you.
To the me who kept my world small, you should see us now-we are growing!
To the me who wants to make my world a bit bigger, I trust you.
I can see myself, at different times, crying on my bed when Josh was just two weeks old, I’m on the phone with my mom, saying “what is wrong with me why am I like this?”
I can see myself trying to walk to pick up my kids from school, pausing, crouching down because I just felt like- I don’t know- I had to get low.. so scared, pausing, breathing. I can see myself now, with her, saying “it’s OK you’ve got this-keep going.”
I can see myself now, with me on the bed hugging me saying “it’s OK. You’re a good mom.”
I just burned the paper chain in my fire pit. I’m just sitting outside listening to the crickets and thinking about four years ago, Josh starting high school. I was so scared for him. I didn’t know if he was ready. He was homeschooled seventh and eighth grade and he hardly left the house and before that everything was so hard- getting him to go to school…and I was so scared.
I thought he was going to get lost in this big school. I thought he was gonna cry and be so embarrassed. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I remember sitting at home just watching his little dot on the Find My phone app and just watching his little dot move around this huge building and just feeling like I had no idea how he was doing feeling so scared for him and so proud of him at the same time.
And now it’s just four years later and I just left him at college—like oh my gosh, it’s not just a big building. It’s tons of big buildings. It’s a whole city…
and I’m not watching the dot.
I know he’s ready.
And I’m finally crying. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry all day. I didn’t cry when we left him. It felt really weird, but I didn’t cry. Now, under the moon, I cry, I release.
I’m sitting here now, wondering—when will I be ready?
