life

To The Mother Whose Relationship Is Ending

June 25, 2026Katia H.Leave a comment

I see you. I remember that fear in those first moments of knowing the relationship was done. That initial heartbreak, shock, tears, and then the overthinking about what this means for your life and that of your children. Each situation is different for us, but the pain is universal. No matter whose choice or if it was mutual to end things, the whole world and comfort zone you have created is being torn apart, and you feel it all. You worry for your kids, you worry for you, you worry about loving again, and it overwhelms every inch of your soul.

What you can’t see right now is how you’re going to make it through but you will. I know you will. You are a mother and strength is ingrained in that title. You will start by working on the plans of who will go where, what it looks like for your kids, schedules for visitation or custody, division of assets, property, and stuff. There will be days you collapse into bed and soak your pillow in tears. There will be days you won’t sleep. There will be days you break down and can’t do anything. But even in those moments of heartache, pain, and difficulties, you will be moving yourself forward. You will be making progress. And soon you will find your way through this and into your new life.

I don’t know how it looks for you in your home, but sometimes the division of things can be painful. I personally watched my husband throw out our wedding picture in front of me while we divided up our things. He felt nothing for me, and told me so, so the pain of feeling worthless in his eyes stung to my core. I hope for you that you have someone who honours your time together. I hope for you someone who will empathize with your feelings in this. Someone who will let you know how much you were appreciated in your time together. I hope for you someone who will honour your pain and give you closure. But if you don’t have that, I want you to know that you are still going to be okay. Here I am on the other side of it, and I know you will be here too in time. What matters most in this is that all of your feelings were valid. Your love was real, your experience genuine, and you can hold onto that always.

Your kids will need you and the more routines and traditions you can keep up will impact them greatly for feeling secure. They may wonder what they did, and will need the reassurance from both of you that this has nothing to do with them. They will need reassurance that you aren’t going anywhere and may be more clingy as they process their fear of loss, grief, and abandonment. This isn’t just fracturing your core, but theirs too. But you will all rebuild your new life. It will be a beautiful family developing resiliency and grieving together. I hope you have a supportive coparent who will work with you at maintaining rules and consistency. But if you don’t, you will all overcome that hurdle too.

The beauty of this closure is that it is a new beginning for you. This is your chance to look at what you deserve moving forward. This is your chance to take everything you put on hold as wife and mother and reclaim it or start new things. Stay true to yourself in all of this. Work to avoid drama and hold your head high for the love you gave your partner. But right now, you get to redefine yourself on your terms, and it is a raw, beautiful process of who you are going to emerge as because of this change. I am excited for all the opportunities that will come your way because of the restart you are getting.

As you move forward now, create your support group of people you trust. People who you can call at three in the morning when you just can’t stand the pain. You want people who will come help you pack and clean the house if you need to move. And people who will tell you you’re doing amazing or guide you when you feel stuck.

A weird tip, but take pictures during this process. You’ll want to see how much you’ve been through. And there will be days that you feel like the worst parent as you are lost in your own grief, feeding them pizza for the third time this week, or just feeling like you aren’t present. If you take pictures you’ll be able to look back at what you accomplished and have pictures with your kids to show that you were able to be present and found ways to make them laugh and smile still in between everything else.

When you go through the separation agreement, I hope you can do this together with peace and the security of the kids as the main goal. If you can work on this together, there are great resources out there to support. You’ll go through, you’ll edit, and you’ll finalize something that will work for everyone moving forward. There will be challenges, compromises, and completion in this process. And this will be the stability that helps you both start to move yourselves and the children forward. It is a long wait before you can file for the divorce, but when you get that final certificate in the mail, you’ll be in awe of how far you have come in that time.

This journey ahead of you will be filled with changes and challenges, but embrace the road ahead because you have the chance to change so many things on your terms. You will heal, grow, overcome, adapt, accomplish, succeed, love, and so much more. And remember if this person has let you go, they are saving you wasted years had they stayed longer to avoid hurting you right now. You are being released to live your life and find your feet and as painful as this process can be, I promise you that there are many gifts because of it.

I can’t wait for you to look back on this time and realize how much you overcame and celebrate everything you accomplished. You are going to get through this and your life can be better than anything you could ever imagine.

Sending you love and support as you navigate this new road ahead.

I Took My Body for Granted

March 30, 2026March 17, 2026Katia H.Leave a comment

The phrase, “permanently disabled,” was never meant for me. That’s what happens to other people, but not me. Afterall, I could literally climb mountains. Until I couldn’t. I could move heavy things wherever I wanted. Until I couldn’t. I could jog, kayak, kickbox, and challenge my body to move, stretch, and transform. Until I couldn’t.

I got sick and my body changed. Whereas once I could hike for hours, now I’m told a three minute walk without a body crash is success. Whereas once I could push my limits and raise my heart rate to challenge my health, now I’m told that I should try to not let my heart rate increase above 106. And I got weaker. I gained more weight from being unable to move the way I once could. I lost so much of who I was so quickly, but refused to accept that this was now my norm. I would get better. I would get back to who I was before I got sick. I would be me again.

But here I am, almost 2 years in with the memories of who I was now becoming more and more distant. Here I am with the corporations and insurance companies throwing that term “permanently disabled” my way. I sobbed on the phone when the one adjuster used this term. I told him that means not getting better. I want to be better. I want to be who I was before this. He couldn’t get me off the phone quick enough. And the denial of that phrase being attached to me grew along with the anger that there is currently no cure and no improvements. There’s only more money out for new trials. More money out for more doctor forms. More paperwork to prove I’m sick when I just want to be well.

In my grief of who I was before, a psychologist told me I needed to be doing the things I love to work through the dark cloud consuming me. The things I loved to do to feel better emotionally were almost all connected to the abilities of a body that no longer has those abilities. And lower and lower I sank. Me, the person who could make a joke about absolutely anything horrible in life, remained humourless about my “disability” and circumstance. And I removed myself from the world and those around me more and more.

And as I fight with doctors and corporations to be seen and recognized and for hopes of healing something so new, I am faced with the reality that I took my body for granted. I took that ability to get up and go do things whenever I wanted as a luxury that was for me indefinitely. And I began to understand more of the struggles my chronically ill friends endure between the advocating and paperwork and that loss of self through loss of movement and loss of energy.

I hate this. I hate not feeling like me because my body no longer cooperates with what I want it to do. I hate feeling like a burden and less than whole because I can’t complete the tasks I once did. I can no longer scrub and organize a house in two days. It took me a month between crashes and having to go over what I had already done as I went. I can’t take my kids adventuring like I once did and that transfers grief to them as well. The “let’s go adventure, Mum” is replaced with “let Mum rest.” Potentials of my career being impossible to return to loom and what that means for finances, benefits, pensions, and more deplete me further. I continually feel like less than myself and a burden to those around me because of what I can no longer do or what I can no longer do quickly. For someone who would push to complete things, the things that stack up to be completed bury me alive in my own disappointment.

I took my body for granted. And as much as I hope that I will get better, the phrase, “permanently disabled” stalks behind me waiting to trap me into a world of can’ts that I’m still not ready to accept as reality. I want to be better, but I need to accept that maybe I won’t be who I was before this and apologize to myself for assuming I’d always be unstoppable.

Controversial Conversations With My Kids: Death

February 15, 2026Katia H.Leave a comment

One of the things I hope my kids will always say about me is that I am open and honest. We have a lot of open conversations and sometimes what we talk about is considered controversial by others. I’ve received some opinionated feedback from some over the years for my choices in those conversations, but the only opinions I care about for these conversations are those of my kids. And although sometimes they don’t like thinking about a world where I am not right there with them, one of our main “controversial” conversations is about death.

I don’t sugar coat reality with my kids. Some of the things we have gone through and experienced have made them grateful for this fact. The same comes in our conversations about death. They know I have a book I’m working on, with details for when my eventual last day has arrived, labeled, “I put the FUN in Funeral.” In that book will be all the contact information, insurance information, funeral requests, and anything else that will make my passing easier on them. And although the kids don’t like to think about that day, I know it will ease things to know their OCD, chronic planner, extra Mum, will have made sure it’s the least chaotic experience possible.

Speaking about death, as a whole, isn’t really the controversial part of these conversations, it’s the content of the conversations I’ve received some flack about. Number one is I don’t want my kids to waste money on an extravagant funeral for me; I want them to keep anything left to help them in their lives. Because of that, they know I want to be cremated, but that I want them to use the cheapest casket possible for that process, even if it’s a cardboard box. And with my ashes, they can dispose of them however they like, even if that’s the compost to let me regrow other things. My body will be done and there’s no need for extravagance to dispose of it. In no way is it meant to downplay my death for them, but for them to understand that I don’t want anything over the top when I go because I don’t see any value in that for me or for them. Celebrate my life over mourning it. I want them to take any money I may have and use it for their future as my future is done. Some people feel I’m being cold and heartless with this idea, but I like to think of it as being real.

Another important part of these conversations with my kids is that it opens up the conversation and allows them to ask questions. And there can be a lot of questions that can come up! My youngest has already faced the death of his biological Mom when he was a toddler, so for him he questions what will happen if I die. Will Dad get him a new step mom? If Dad and I die who will he live with? And he has opinions on who he’d like to live with, so I honour those conversations, too. We have discussions about who we have picked for them and why. The person picked will keep some normalcy in the event both my husband and I die. They will make sure the kids stay together and stay in their home. These were the main two important things for us to secure for them while they are young. And as they grow up, we’ll update for their needs accordingly. But how much easier for children to know what will happen in a difficult situation ahead of time instead of dealing with grief and unknowns all at once.

Another part we talk about in my eventual death is stuff. I never want my kids to feel they have to keep any of it. Things that were sentimental for me, don’t have to be sentimental for them. The older I get the more I seem to purge so the less they’ll need to deal with down the road. My oldest mentioned some art I have that he remembers the day we got it. We had a conversation if that’s something he would want when I passed since he has memories associated with it. He said yes, so later I casually put a label on the back that said they are his, “Mum approved” in the event of my death. I figure the kids will have a good laugh once I’m gone to find things that have labels on them already. And they’ll still have the choice whether to keep those things or not. It really comes down to one main thing with me telling them to get rid of whatever they want when I die, and that is the removal of all and any guilt for throwing out things I have collected when I am gone.

Above all, these conversations take the stigma away from death. It allows for open and honest conversations about what is to come eventually. I remind them that we just don’t know when the end will be, so it’s better to have this knowledge now. And they know my only fear of death is leaving them before they’re ready to let me go. For them, they grow up knowing they can ask questions and we can discuss them openly. They can say that they don’t want me to die, or they don’t like thinking about it, but in the end they also have peace knowing that Mum has taken care of something for them that would have otherwise been a burden. Our talks of death may be controversial to some, but for us, it’s just another conversation that brings us together until death takes us apart.

Loving Me As I Am

February 10, 2026February 10, 2026Katia H.Leave a comment

When he decided his love was meant for me, I don’t think either of us knew the depths of damage from those that tortured my heart before. So when the big emotions and self doubt rear their ugly head, I can rationalize why I feel certain ways and can pinpoint the choices of others that sometimes make me question my worth, but he always makes sure I am held and reassured that I am more than enough for him as I work to reset my brain back to the present. And through his actions and words, he continues to teach me what love was always meant to be and help glue me back together when the cracks of self doubt break me open.

You see, before there was him there was not one relationship in my past that made me feel loved for who I am, as I am. With my ex, I couldn’t talk about how I was feeling without defensiveness and hostility as a response. I began to fear speaking up. My feelings that he was cheating on me were all in my head… until they turned out true. Being talked down to in front of his friends was all in my head… except it wasn’t. When his friend offered to push me down the stairs when learning I was pregnant, it was my fault for being upset and not finding humour in it. When I begged for time together I was needy and stopping him from going out like he wanted. Wanting help in the home for a balanced workload, I was just a nag. I came last to friends, video games, and his secret life. And I was made to believe I was asking for too much and was unworthy of the attention I had craved, while also being labeled as toxic, selfish, and controlling in the stories he told others.

So now, on those days the tears fall because I feel unworthy of this love I had never known before, my husband reminds me of all the reasons I am worthy. On the days the tears fall because the voice of self hate is trying to shatter my existence, he reminds me what I need to love about myself and what he loves about me too. When I feel I am failing as a mother, he reminds me what I do for our kids and how lucky they are to have me. And when I feel like I am a failure, he reminds me of my successes. The constant echo that I am not enough rings loudly sometimes, and as my brain tortures me, he puts everything aside to try to drown out the self hate he didn’t create, but wants to help heal. And when my brain is calm, he still reminds me of all this too. For all of this and more, I am forever grateful.

I know how lucky I am to have someone who truly hears and validates me. As insecurities about myself crept in this past while, I could rationalize where it came from, but he held me and reminded me why that voice is wrong. When the fear of being left for not being a girly girl showed up, I could rationalize that my ex husband letting me know my lack of wearing makeup was one of the many reasons he was leaving me as the foundation for the fear. Once again, absolutely nothing this man had hinted or suggested, but my mind took a simple statement and twisted it through this lens of experience. And once again he reassured me that my fears were unfounded and he loves me for who I am, as I am. And he included that I can get ready quickly to go out and I don’t have products cluttering the counter as bonuses. There was never any hesitation to celebrate it being a positive aspect of who I am. Whatever learned insecurity, he is there to argue against it.

In the past, my light was constantly being blown out by those gaslighting my way forward. But now when my silly self comes out, he’ll tell me, I’m a goofball and it’s always followed by “and I love it.” Before him, I had never experienced someone who created a safe space that allowed me to be authentically myself. The vulnerability and trust I have with him, allows me to finally become safe in my sophisticated goofball ways and know I am loved completely for it and all the other aspects that make me who I am.

This man came along and showed me faithfulness, honour, respect, and above all, what love should have always been. Someone who actually enjoys spending time with me. Someone who will pause their game just to come tackle me with a hug, without me having to say anything. Someone who will clean the kitchen when he sees me struggling to accomplish my to do list. Someone who tells me how much they love me every single day and how he is in this forever with me. And someone who is empathetic of the past hurt that sometimes makes that feeling of unworthiness surface in waves of doubt that bring on a hurricane of tears.

Although the damage from the past isn’t always cracked open, it still has moments where it resurfaces, creating a vulnerable and insecure me who feels absolutely unworthy of his love. And although I know that voice was created by others, he steps up even more to reassure me I am perfect as I am. I am not broken, needy, or too much, I am a victim of those who didn’t love me for me and who made me feel shame, unappreciated, and unworthy. How unfair it is that he has to deal with the negative aftermath others left, but I will always be thankful and grateful for the reassurance that I am enough, even when my brain is trying to trick me into thinking I am not. And with time I know I will be able to let the voices of the past go and only hear his sweet voice telling me I am enough as I learn to believe it finally too.

Image of a couple embracing in the distance.

The Doubt Undertow

February 9, 2026February 10, 2026Katia H.Leave a comment

Those thoughts of I’m not good enough have resurfaced again. That taught core belief that I’m unlovable as I am. That learned trauma that I’m good enough for a moment and then someone else will be better is consuming me. Meanwhile I am in a healthy relationship with an amazing man, who reassures me that he doesn’t want anyone else. He reassures me he loves me as I am. And no matter my state of being and mind, he is the light that fights the dark thoughts with me. Yet that taught core belief likes to echo and taunt that he’ll see the truth that I am unworthy. Part of my worth was taught in my younger years as the voices that I was not good enough bombarded my self esteem. The other part was taught through relationships, where they cheated, ignored me, blamed me, and showed me I wasn’t enough.

Deep down I know that the actions of others tell me more about those people than they do about myself, but the glue of who I am was built off of those voices and actions and some days it’s incredibly hard to drown them out. Some days I spiral into thoughts of just how much I am unworthy and disposable and it rips my soul to shreds. And then my husband sits with better glue and thread and stitches each shred back together to remind me I am not what they taught me I was; I am so much more.

In therapy I work on these voices that try to submerge me into the depths. The insight into the fractured self and what their needs are to still protect me now are fascinating as an outsider, but heavy in the moments. I’ve learned a lot about where this insecure, fragile person came from and why she struggles to accept the good in her world. Some days I win the battle in my head, and other days the battle continues. Some days I wish I could tell those who broke me exactly what they did and how it impacted me, but I also know this would be useless. I would be left with more scars from their unending uncaring for who I am and their lack of remorse for the trauma they left.

So I work on me. I fight for the parts of me that deep down know I am deserving, loveable, and capable. I fight to not have these waves of despair devour me. And I fight, because if I don’t, I’m letting the others who broke me win. And while I fight, I have my light helping guide me back to reality as a reminder that I was and am always deserving of the returned love I put out. It’s a constant reminder that fighting the traumas of my past are worth it for where I am now. So today I continue to challenge those negative beliefs in hopes that one day I can just enjoy the massive wave of love and good in my life without the doubt undertow trying to drag me back to the parts created from the dark depths of others.

Continual Momentum

Reflective writing on life, personal growth, relationships, & parenting