Category: This Life

D is for Duality & Doubt: The Monday Morning Backlash

by Mothersense, posted in Mental Health Recovery, Reclamation, This Life



Last week, we waded through the thick of the chaos. We stood face-to-face with the friction of the empty space—that deeply uncomfortable territory where we intentionally stop rushing, clear out the noise, and force ourselves to just sit with the quiet.


If you tried to hold that empty space over the weekend, you know exactly how brutal it is. I personally kept my laptop closed and worked on some things around the house, cleaning, rearranging, and spent some time with my husband. I baked a chocolate cake Sunday afternoon that didn’t quite turn out how I had hoped. But it was a learning experience.


And as the laptop lid lifts open this Monday morning, a brand-new monster is waiting for us.
Welcome to Duality and Doubt.


Once you choose to clear out the chaos, your brain doesn’t just automatically hand you a crown of peace. Instead, a massive internal friction sets in. We find ourselves living a double life inside our own heads.
One version of you—the wise, grounded version—knows deep in your bones that protecting your space is a matter of survival. But the other version, the one conditioned by a world that demands a constant production line, stands over you whispering that your stillness is a failure.


The moment the weekly schedule kicks into gear, these two versions collide, bringing a swift, heavy wave of doubt.
You open the inbox, you look at the tasks ahead—the insurance training and compliance updates, the lesson plans to map out, the physical home to maintain—and the second-guessing begins. Did I lose ground by slowing down? Am I already behind? Did I actually earn the right to breathe?


We are so hooked on constant motion that when we finally create an empty space, we treat it like a crime we have to pay for on Monday morning. We feel the urge to sprint out of the gate at a million miles an hour, frantically overcompensating just to prove we are still worthy.


But true reclamation isn’t about clearing the chaos on Friday just to drown in the doubt on Monday.
The duality we have to master this week is learning how to hold onto our internal stillness while we do the work. It is knowing you can be deeply productive without being frantic.


As you step into the demands of this week, don’t let the Monday morning backlash trick you into running a race you weren’t meant to run. The work will always be there, but your peace belongs to you. Pace yourself today.

Did the doubt hit you the second you opened your screen this morning? How is your brain trying to make you pay for the empty space you kept this weekend?

The “Heart-Work” and the “Hard-Work”: Finding My Alignment

by Mothersense, posted in This Life


There is a specific kind of magic that happens when “heart-work” and “hard-work” finally begin to align. For the longest time, it felt like I was operating in a valley—navigating the shadows of uncertainty, managing personal hurdles, and wondering when the pieces would start to fit together. But lately, the view has changed. I’m no longer looking at the climb; I’m looking at the moon.
Building from the Ground Up
Building something brand new requires a unique brand of “brain power.” It’s about more than just having an idea; it’s about the grit required to utilize modern tools and technology to bring a vision to life. Whether it’s developing a recipe app to streamline the heart of the home or a recycling app to help protect our planet, these projects represent the fusion of logic and passion.
My creative world has expanded into every corner of storytelling:
The Novel: Deep, immersive world-building.
The Children’s Book: Seeing the world through a lens of wonder.
Short Stories: Capturing those fleeting moments of human connection.
The Master Catalog: Baring my soul through songwriting, turning raw emotion into lyrics and melodies that I hope will eventually find their way into the world.
The Purpose Behind the Hustle
While the creative projects feed my soul, there is a grounded, protective side to this journey. Working in insurance has become a vital part of my mission. It isn’t just about policies; it’s about the people we do all of this for. It is the safety net that protects our families and our dreams, ensuring that the hard work we put in today is preserved for tomorrow.
Tools for the Ascent
Coming out of that valley required more than just luck. It took intentionality. I’ve leaned heavily into the practices that keep my mental health steady and my focus sharp:
Gratitude Journals: Finding the “wins” even on the heavy days.
Manifestation: Being unapologetic about desiring a better life and a bigger future.
Daily Goals: Smashing those small milestones that lead to massive shifts.
Nowhere to Go But Up
Just a few months ago, things felt heavy. Today, the momentum is real. My health is back in my corner, my mind is clear, and the “alignment” everyone talks about is finally starting to feel like a reality.
When you decide to shoot for the moon, you realize that the hard lessons weren’t there to stop you—they were there to prepare you for the altitude. Here’s to the heart-work, the hard-work, and everything that happens when you finally decide to go up.

The Second Half of the Season: Finding Our Bloom

by Mothersense, posted in This Life


There is a specific kind of quiet that happens right before spring really takes hold. In the songwriting world, we talk a lot about “the hook”—that moment where everything clicks and the story finds its rhythm. Life has those moments, too, but they often come after a season of being dormant.


As we move into late April, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to enter the “second half” of a journey. Whether it’s a creative project, a career shift, or just a new chapter in a family’s story, the transition isn’t always loud and flashy. Sometimes, it’s just a steady, quiet reclaiming of who you are meant to be.


Resilience in the Roots
In this part of the country, the earth is tough. It takes a certain kind of strength for a seed to push through that heavy soil. I think we’re a lot like that. We carry the weight of our past seasons—the winters that felt a little too long or the storms that shook our fences—but we still find a way to reach for the light.


Defining Your Narrative
One of the most powerful things we can do is decide how our story is told. For me, that’s happening through music and words, finding the melody in the transitions. But you don’t have to be a songwriter to rewrite your rhythm.
Listen to the change: What is the “new song” in your life right now?


Honor the growth: Even if you aren’t exactly where you planned to be, look at how far the roots have gone down.
Accept the timing: Some things bloom early; some take their time. Both are beautiful.
Looking Ahead


As the days get longer and the “Mother-Sense” kicks in, I’m leaning into the gratitude of being right here, right now. The heaviness of winter is lifting, and there is a lot of music yet to be written. And I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. ❤️


How are you finding your rhythm this month? Is there a part of your story that is finally starting to bloom?

Do you have things you need to protect if the storms do come??

Let’s chat!

Email me!

The Social Media Sinkhole: How to Post Without Getting Stuck

by Mothersense, posted in This Life


If you’ve ever picked up your phone to share a quick business update at 9:00 PM and suddenly realized it’s 10:15 PM and you’re watching endless reels of things you didn’t even know existed… you aren’t alone.
As a small business owner, social media is a vital tool. It’s how I connect with my community, share my songwriting journey, and help families navigate their insurance needs. But there is a very thin line between using the tool and being used by it. I call it the “Social Media Trap,” and it’s especially easy to fall into when you can’t sleep and find yourself doomscrolling into the early morning hours.
We only have so many productive hours in a day. Every thirty minutes lost to the “scroll” is thirty minutes taken away from our families, our creative projects, or the rest we desperately need.
1. The “Post and Ghost” Strategy
This is my top rule for staying productive. Before you even open an app, have your content ready—photo selected, caption written. Open the app, hit “Post,” and immediately close it. Do not look at the feed. Do not “just check one notification.” Get in, do the work, and get out.
2. Put the Phone to Work for You
Since I’m a fan of using the right tech for the job, I’ve started leaning on my phone’s internal settings to act as a “bouncer.” Most smartphones now have Digital Wellbeing or App Timer settings.
I’ve set a strict 30-minute daily limit for the apps that tend to suck me in. Once that time is up, the app grays out and locks me out for the day. It’s a great way to let the phone be the “bad guy” so I can stay focused on my actual goals.
3. The “No Phones in the Refuge” Rule
I’ve written before about the difference between a house and a HOME—a home is a refuge from the storm. That refuge shouldn’t be invaded by the noise of the entire world at 2:00 AM. If you struggle with doomscrolling at night, try leaving the phone in another room. Keep a physical notebook or an old student spiral by the bed instead. If an idea hits, write it down by hand.
4. Be Intentional, Not Accidental
Ask yourself: Is this scroll helping me grow, or is it just filling a gap? We are creative entrepreneurs. We have apps to build, songs to write, and legacies to protect. Our time is the most valuable asset we own.
Let’s Reclaim Our Time
If you’ve been feeling frustrated by the hours lost to the “pool” of social media, let’s make a pact to be more intentional this week. Use that reclaimed hour to write a verse, study for a new goal, or just get some actual, restorative rest.
How do you set boundaries with your screen time? Let’s talk about it (and then, let’s get back to the real work!).

I’m Not the Mom I Thought I’d Be — And That’s Okay

by Mothersense, posted in Mental Health Recovery, Reclamation, This Life



When I first became a mom, I had ideas.

Not just little ones, but full pictures in my head of how life would look.

What kind of mom I would be.
What kind of home I would create.
Who my kids would grow up to become.

I did not think of it as expectations at the time.
It felt more like hope.

I wanted a doctor.
Two nurses.
A veterinarian.

I wanted stability for them.
Security.
A life that felt a little more certain than the one I had known.

And I worked hard toward that in my own way.
Raising them.
Showing up.
Trying to guide them toward what I thought would give them the best future.

But life does not follow the plans we make in our heads.

And kids are not meant to become our plans.

They are meant to become themselves.

Somewhere along the way, I had to face a quiet truth.

My kids are not who I once imagined they would be.

They are not following the paths I pictured.
They are not fitting into the neat little futures I had hoped for.

And for a moment, that felt like loss.

Not because there is anything wrong with them.
But because I had to let go of the version of their lives that existed in my mind.

That is a hard thing to admit.

As parents, we do not like to say that part out loud.

But here is what I know now.

My kids are good people.

They are strong in ways that do not show up on paper.
They are learning, growing, struggling, and figuring life out in real time.

And they still call me.

When things get hard.
When they need advice.
When they just need someone to listen.

That means something.

Maybe everything.

Because at the end of the day, that was always the goal, even if I did not realize it at the time.

Not perfection.
Not a specific career path.
Not a life that looks impressive from the outside.

But connection.

Trust.

A relationship that lasts beyond childhood.

I am not the mom I thought I would be either.

I have changed.
Life has changed me.

There are things I would do differently if I could go back.
There are things I have had to learn the hard way.

And there are moments where I have questioned myself more than I ever expected to.

But I am still here.

Still showing up.
Still loving them the best way I know how.
Still learning alongside them instead of trying to control the outcome.

And maybe that is what motherhood really is.

Not raising perfect kids.
Not following a perfect plan.

But walking beside imperfect humans as they figure out who they are.

And learning to let them.

So no, my life does not look like I thought it would.

My kids are not who I once imagined.

And I am not the mom I expected to be.

But we are real.

We are connected.

We are still choosing each other, over and over again.

And that is more than enough.