July ‘25 in the SMP

Who’s raising your children–you or your demons?

Photo by Naoki Suzuki on Unsplash

Roots and Reckoning

I spent most of last week at a family reunion. The first official reunion of my parents’ progeny. At this point, we’ve lost a few members to the cycle from both addiction-related illness and chronic health conditions that seemed random and cruel; reminders that we’re puny humans and nature doesn’t spare even “the best of us.” In the largest of our reunion gatherings, my mother stood in the center of the photo taken that day–a matriarch to nearly 50 people that included four generations.

Most hadn’t seen my daughter since she’d become an adult and moved out of and away from our home. I did strongly encourage her attendance but was grateful that she was receptive and it didn’t take much coaxing. I must admit to fretting some; while she’s never asserted her pronouns or assumed name in our family of four, let alone in the extended family, and I didn’t expect this time would be any different, I wasn’t totally sure. She’s not medicated, but her bound chest, professional mullet, multiple face piercings, and gauged ears are still a pretty bold statement.

It was a road trip, and I picked her up halfway to the reunion location. That day in the car transported me back to her adolescence. She drove while we listened to her very long and surprising country playlist and she told me countless stories of these artists, most who lived and died before her time. Her passion for her musical heroes just seems to have deepened.

I’d rehearsed in my mind how I might respond to any inquiries once we were there among my siblings and their families (most know nothing about my daughter’s trans identity,): “I know, right?” or “Isn’t it wild?” My goal was curiosity, avoiding explanation, to not make this about me, and to test what would happen if I didn’t make it a thing. This seemed to work; even the few who do know made nothing of it, not even mentioning it to me. Indeed, it was a non-thing.

Often she hung out on the fringes with her brother and his girlfriend (who I’m quite certain was responsible for this fringey positioning, creating mixed feelings for me: frustration at the distance she required—according to my narrative anyway—that kept my kids out of the fray, but gratitude that she was willing, even eager to come and meet my son’s very large extended family.) And, my daughter also participated, animatedly telling stories from her life to those interested enough to approach her and engage. She borrowed my car to do some things on her own while we were there, and she spent time with me. All seemed pretty normal for a 21 yo at a family reunion.

My mom rode back with us since her sister lives near my daughter. I mostly napped in the back of the car that day, my daughter now talking her grandma’s ear off. At one point, she let the f-word slip, “Oh, sorry Grandma, but…!” What my mom (who does know, but my daughter doesn’t know she knows) said to me later was how grateful she was that my kid was at ease, comfortable to share her life and her self with grandma in the car.

I know I’m lucky to have such a nonjudgmental family. I knew that whenever I was uncomfortable it was because I was judging myself. Even after all this work to embrace and tend to the more fragile parts of me, they still need soothing!

It was such a tricky thing to let go of my battle against the identity, like for realsies, and trust my kid to find her way. She’s still hanging on to the identity, yet once I faced my fears, consciously released my certainty that this would ruin her life (and destroy our family,) and loosened my grip, her need to dig in and prove something to me seemed to also slip away.

When I ask, “What was I meant to learn from all this?” the answer comes back clear: it was a spiritual reckoning. One that shattered the illusion of control and built a new faith in its place. That shift didn’t make me smaller—it stretched me. It made me big enough to hold what once terrified me.

That change prepared me for this work—an undertaking that would demand capacity I didn’t know I had. To hold space the way my mom does; her capacity forged through her own parenting trials, now steady at the center, where belonging is never in question.

That’s what the Tapestry is for: a place where no mama has to disappear to love her child.

And I’m not special. I certainly don’t have all the answers. But I’ve lived—and I’ve seen in countless others—what happens when a mama grows bigger than her fear. It changes everything.

If you’re facing your own reckoning, know this: you’re more capable than you know.

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A New Chapter in the SMP’s Tapestry

The threads are shifting. A new weave is taking form, and by August, the pattern will be unlike anything before. Next month, we’ll wrap construction and invite members, existing and new, to ease into the new design, to deepen connection and honor the work you’ve done to get here. It’s a moment for all of us—those who’ve held the threads and those just finding their way in. Stay tuned…!

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Upcoming Podcast Guests

I’m so excited and honored that I get the opportunity in the coming weeks to interview two of my heroes for The Parenting Paradox!

Sasha Ayad who I know needs no introduction to the audience of the SMP! I remain forever grateful to Sasha for sharing the SMP with parents in need of support to navigate this tricky terrain—many of you are here because you heard her interview me onto Gender: A Wider Lens. Sasha’s invaluable work to create resources and provide a lifeline for parents has made her an icon, and I’m humbled to get to have this conversation with her for the podcast.

Dr. Brad Reedy, is the author of The Journey of the Heroic Parent and The Audacity to Be You, host of the Finding You podcast, and founder of the Finding You therapy programs. The subtitle of this newsletter was inspired by a line I heard on a recent episode of his podcast, “If you don’t befriend your demons, they’ll end up raising your children.” He issues a powerful call to parents to do their own work, and I’m thrilled to get to discuss how he came to adopt this view after initially focusing on adolescent therapy.

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Private Coaching Openings

For those who’ve been craving deeper support, this is your moment. I’ve opened a handful of 1:1 coaching spots. Tapestry members get first dibs, but for a limited time, I’m offering discovery sessions to anyone curious about working together to grow bigger than the problems that feel like chains of despair. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to extend this invitation again.