My daily walks outside are therapy for me. I hold them sacredly because I use this time as an opportunity to pour back into myself and reflect. While on my walks I mainly listen to music, scripture and podcasts- whatever I feel called to for the day. While I was out on my walk this past weekend, I was listening to a podcast by Derick Grant and a new awareness stopped me in my tracks. The podcast was released on August 7, 2025 and it was titled Parenting from Awareness. Derick talked a lot about his own parenting journey with his pre-teen son and the process he described resonated with me so deeply. I have two daughters, one is a teenager and the other is a pre-teen. The incident he described was a moment where his son talked back to him and actually called him “stupid.” I was so moved by Derick’s articulation of how he went from triggered state and popping off to connection and gratitude for his son’s “mouthiness.” His share and process stirred up deep reflection in my own path as a parent.

I started to think back on when I’ve been irritated with my kids recently and I laughed to myself because I legit had just cleaned up a kitchen mess from my daughters AFTER I finished deep cleaning the kitchen on a Saturday morning. The girls were in the kitchen laughing, eating their food and making a giant mess. Naturally I see all this going down and I can feel the heat rising in my body. Instead of pausing I looked at them both and snarled, “you better leave this kitchen how you found it.” Long story short, the kitchen was not left how it was found. There were dishes, water spots all over the island, crumbs on the floor and fingerprints on everything. In that moment, I start cleaning AGAIN. Resentment crept into my perspective and I went about my day pretty damn annoyed. I eventually slipped out of it a bit and it wasn’t until I was on my walk that I pieced some things together.

When I was reflecting on this specific interaction with my kids through the prompt of Derick’s podcast and experience, it lead me to ask myself why I feel like my house has to be in order and spotless all the time? Why can I not cherish the safety that my kids feel to come down to a kitchen perfectly put together and destroy it? Why can I not enjoy the laughter radiating through my home knowing that love is free flowing and that this is the space and safety that I created for them? Why was anger my go to in this moment? As I was strolling and asking these questions- I realized that the anger and resentment were actually deep hurt and my inner child was screaming at me to feel something I never let myself feel long ago.

My Dad was and still is a handy-man. His work is perfection when he finishes a project. He is probably the hardest working person I have ever met. He taught me hustle and that nothing in this world comes for free and hard work is the key to success. I don’t remember my Dad smiling much, I don’t remember him enjoying the fruits of his labor. We didn’t take a ton of vacations, we didn’t eat out much and he missed a lot of my events growing up. One of the most hurtful statements someone made to me as a teenager was, “I didn’t know you had a Dad.” My friends didn’t know what he looked like, they didn’t know his name. It was wild to me as I was a straight A student, athlete and published in the paper regularly and still never felt seen. My list of accomplishments never quite made the cut in the hustle of my Dad’s day. Death by 1,000 papercuts of unspoken words and “I’m proud of you’s”.

I carried the weight of never being good enough. I carried the burden of resentment and deep envy when I would see other great father-daughter relationships. I wore the mask of perfectionism to avoid the pain of rejection. I cried in the shadows for others to not see my vulnerability and deep, deep grief. I lived in hypervigilance, in scarcity. I learned to not trust others, I learned to people please to stay in control and project an identity of toughness. Walls around my heart formed and safety could never be found in another human being. I wasn’t even safe within myself. Never feeling first, numb.

I never felt safe in my own home, in my own existence growing up. The messy kitchen, the laughter and love rang that rand through my house earlier in the day, triggered my inner child wanting to smother it and cast it away. It was deep hurt and grief for a childhood and relationship, I didn’t have. For once, I let the tears fall and felt that. I felt the envy, the pain, the loneliness and confusion. In that moment, I was able to see why this was my story. My Dad was a character cast in my movie, he had a part to fulfill in order for me to remember what I came here to do. I believe beyond on a shadow of doubt that I was sent here to cause a ripple effect within my bloodline, to ends cycles, patterns and toxicity that affects my family and my Dad today. To end the suffering and live in joy of choice. To create safety within myself first to then pave the way for my children and great grandchildren to know nothing different than that. No longer plagued by the storm that raged within me, my Dad, my grandparents and great grandparents. A path free of violence, pain and abuse in all forms.

You see, I had to experience what I did in my childhood to create something different for my children. To create a home where they can just Be. They get to exist, they get to know they are loved unconditionally. They get to live free from the storm, in the sunlight and authentically. Little Brittany created this for my girls now. I get to experience this now too. The tears of pain turned into tears of joy. My heart sang with gratitude for my story, for my Dad’s and my family’s legacy.

While I still love a tidy kitchen and a tidy home, I’ve learned that a little chaos can be holy too. It means healing has taken root, and joy is finally allowed to stay.