The Beautiful Heartbreak of Letting Go

With last weekend being Mother’s Day and on the latest episode of Girl, You Ain’t Crazy, Amy and I found ourselves talking about one of the hardest transitions of motherhood - letting go. Not the dramatic, movie version, where your child moves away while this sentimental music plays in the background. Also, not in the dramatic (aka traumatic) “I hate you” teenage way. They leave because they’re supposed to…because you managed to raise a human who can survive without you reminding them to eat veggies at some point during the week, to switch up (and launder) the uniform of shorts, hoodie, and Crocs, and most importantly, to get out of bed without you shaking them every ten minutes. Reflecting on those years, it’s shocking that none of my children ended up listed on FB Marketplace under “free to a good home.” Because the hoodie-Crocs era combined with the inability to wake up before noon tested every ounce of my character. And yet, motherhood has this strange way of making you miss even the phases that nearly took you out.

As an empty-nester, I’ve realized something painfully ironic about motherhood: If you do your job well, they leave. It’s both beautiful and heartbreaking.

Motherhood begins with total dependency. Your baby needs you for absolutely everything. Your body becomes home before they’re even born. Pregnancy changes everything - your sleep, your hormones, your priorities, your relationship with your own body. Then comes breastfeeding and the realization that not even your personal space belongs to you anymore. There’s always someone touching you. Needing you. Calling for you. Climbing on you. Asking for snacks that you haven’t even pulled out of the grocery bag and put in the pantry yet. Sometimes all you want is five uninterrupted minutes alone to breathe… or pee… or drink your coffee before it gets cold… or eat a snack without tiny human negotiations attached to it. You fantasize about these moments while simultaneously feeling guilty for wanting them.

The days are long and the nights are longer. Somehow you’re expected to appreciate every second because “it goes so fast.” Which is incredibly annoying advice when you’re running on two hours of sleep and someone just cried because you cut their toast wrong. And one day, it does go fast. The toys disappear, the car seats disappear, the little voices disappear, and eventually, the people who once needed help surviving start building lives that no longer revolve around you.

That transition was hard in ways I never fully expected. Motherhood changes identities. For years, being “Mom” was an active, all-consuming role. You are the caretaker, scheduler, referee, therapist, chauffeur, snack provider, and emotional support system all at once. Then one day, your role quietly changes. You become less of a manager and more of an unpaid consultant (who they may or may not listen to). Depending on your child’s personality, there’s usually a season when they decide you’re deeply uncool and profoundly annoying. Not my firstborn, but hypothetically speaking, there may have been another child who treated my mere existence as a personal attack and major inconvenience.

Teenagers and young adults are fascinating because part of becoming themselves involves pushing away from you. They test boundaries. They challenge opinions. They roll their eyes so aggressively and sigh “OHMYGOD” so frequently that you worry about a permanent injury. But you know what? Some of that is necessary. They are figuring out who they are outside of you.

Motherhood requires an incredible amount of emotional resilience during that stage because you remember the little human who once thought you hung the moon and proudly wrote love notes to “the best mom ever.” Then they acted personally offended that you asked them to text when they made it to their destination safely. Love this journey for us, Moms.

Here’s the beautiful part, though (and it does happen)…They come back. Not as children. Not because they need you in the way they once did. They come back as adults who choose you. That relationship is one of the greatest gifts motherhood has given me. There’s something special about getting reintroduced to your children as grown people. Watching them become funny, thoughtful, caring, and capable humans with lives, opinions, and stories of their own.

Somewhere along the way, you stop being just the person who raised them. You become someone they call because they want your advice or as one of my sons says, “I just need to vent.” Someone they spend time with voluntarily. Someone they enjoy being around (by all appearances anyway).

Miracles really do happen.

Becoming a Mother Made Me Appreciate Mine Even More

Becoming a mother also gave me a completely different appreciation for my own mom. I still can’t believe they let me leave the hospital with an entire human and no instruction manual, no practical exam, no certification, nothing. I had to take both a written and driving test to get a license, but for motherhood? They basically handed me a baby, wished me luck, and sent me into the world sleep-deprived, hormonally unstable, and fully responsible for keeping another human alive. Absolutely wild when you think about it.

Somewhere along the way, I realized my mother was figuring it out in real time, too. As kids, we assume our parents know everything. As adults, we realize they were just humans carrying enormous responsibility while hoping they didn’t mess us up too badly. Motherhood humbled me in that way. It made me revisit so many moments from my childhood with softer eyes and a deeper understanding.

I understand now why mothers are tired in their bones. Why they worry constantly. Why they sometimes lose patience. Why they love so fiercely. And why, even as grown adults, we still somehow want our mom when life hurts.

Motherhood Gets More Complicated When You’re Parenting With The Wrong One

While motherhood is already hard, co-parenting with The Wrong One adds a layer of emotional exhaustion I don’t think people fully understand unless they’ve lived it. There’s this idea that parenting should feel like teamwork - two people building the same foundation, reinforcing the same lessons, supporting one another through the difficult seasons.

But sometimes motherhood looks more like damage control.

Sometimes you’re trying to raise emotionally healthy children while simultaneously navigating conflict, inconsistency, resentment, manipulation, or outright sabotage from the person who’s supposed to be your parenting partner. It shakes your confidence. Because children naturally want to love both parents, and as mothers, many of us carry the impossible burden of trying to protect our children emotionally while also trying not to become “the bad guy.” You want to instill values, structure, accountability, kindness, and stability… while knowing those lessons may not always be reinforced elsewhere. And that can feel incredibly lonely.

There were moments in motherhood where I questioned myself constantly - not because I didn’t love my children enough, but because parenting without true partnership can make even strong women second-guess everything. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: Children eventually grow up enough to see the truth for themselves. They may not understand every sacrifice, boundary, or difficult decision in the moment. But over time, consistency matters. Stability matters. Love matters.

And motherhood often requires loving your children enough to endure being misunderstood for a while. Maybe that’s the lesson motherhood keeps teaching me over and over again. Love isn’t control. It isn’t perfection. It isn’t being appreciated in real time. Sometimes love looks like exhaustion. Sometimes it looks like sacrifice. Sometimes it looks like letting go. Sometimes it looks like holding the line when nobody understands why.

Somehow, despite all the chaos, heartbreak, noise, worry, and uncertainty…we would still do it all again.

‘Tis motherhood.

When Stress Shows Up in Your Lab Work

About two weeks ago, I got my lab results back for my thyroid appointment, and I knew right away something was off. Numbers had shifted in the wrong direction. Not dramatically, but enough to remind me that health is never as simple as we want it to be.

My first reaction? Panic.

I immediately started running through every recent decision. Was it the few extra indulgences here and there? Did I lose focus? Do I need to tighten everything up, get stricter, cut more out, or overhaul everything starting Monday?

If you’ve ever dealt with chronic health issues, you probably know that mental spiral. The belief that one imperfect day, week, or even a moment means you’ve ruined everything. After the initial stress passed, I had to stop myself and tell the truth.

The answer was not to punish myself.

Living With Autoimmune Disease Is Frustrating

One of the hardest parts of managing autoimmune disease is that sometimes you can do so much right and still feel like your body has its own agenda. For years, I was compliant. Disciplined. Consistent. I followed plans, made changes, showed up for appointments, adjusted habits, and tried to do everything “correctly.” Yet for a long time, I saw little improvement.

That kind of journey wears on you.

Then, when progress finally comes - when labs improve, symptoms ease, energy returns - you start to exhale a little. You feel hopeful again. So when something slips backward, it feels devastating. Not because the setback is catastrophic, but because you know how hard you worked to get to this healthy state.

Stress Counts Too

Yes, nutrition matters. Movement matters. Sleep matters. Routine matters. But stress matters too. Sometimes stress is the one factor we minimize because it doesn’t look as obvious as a meal plan or a workout calendar. But the body keeps score.

Stress can impact hormones, inflammation, digestion, sleep quality, energy, and thyroid function. It can make the healthiest habits harder to maintain. It can create changes even when you’re still doing many things right.

That was the real reminder for me. Recently, I’ve carried more stress than usual, and my body responded accordingly.

The Last Thing I Need Is More Pressure

When I saw those results, I wanted to go extreme. Tighten the rules. Become hyper-disciplined overnight. Fix everything immediately. That reaction - the all-or-nothing one - is often the very thing someone with autoimmune disease does not need.

My nervous system does not need punishment. My body does not need more pressure. I do not need to become my own enemy in the name of “health.”

What I’m Doing Instead

Instead of panic, I made a realistic plan to get back on track. Not a punishment plan. A support plan.

A return to consistency.
More intentional meals.
Better hydration.
Movement that helps me feel better, not depleted.
Earlier nights.
Better boundaries.
Stress management that I stop treating like a luxury and start treating like health care.

Because sometimes the most powerful reset is not becoming stricter. It’s becoming steadier.

And, it was the perfect excuse to buy a fitness tracker ring that I’ve been eyeing FOREVER.

Not Perfect—But Doing My Best

This is how I deal with autoimmune disease now.

Not perfectly. Not flawlessly. Not with some unrealistic standard that leaves no room for life to happen. I deal with it by doing the best I can with the season I’m in.

Some seasons look strong and focused.
Some seasons look tired but still trying.
Some seasons look like regrouping after disappointing labs.

And all of it counts.

Health isn’t about controlling every variable. It’s about learning how to care for yourself when variables change.

Right now, caring for myself looks less like being strict… and more like being wise and more compassionate towards myself.

UPDATE: I finally decided to try a fitness tracking ring after hearing so much about recovery, sleep quality, stress tracking, and heart rate variability. I wanted something simple, easy to use, and more budget-friendly than some of the higher-priced options on the market. So far, I’ve really liked how straightforward it is and how much insight it gives me into my sleep, stress, recovery, and overall wellness patterns — especially during a season where I’m trying to manage stress better and pay closer attention to my health instead of just pushing harder.

If you’re curious, this is the ring I purchased and have been using lately: https://amzn.to/4nj6xFa. Something to note - go by your actual ring size for the finger you’ll be wearing it on and don’t use their measuring instructions. I did that initially and had to return the ring - it was too big. I can wear this on my index or middle finger. I have found my middle one to be the most comfortable and still provides accurate info. I got mine in black.

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

How Do You Measure A Month?

Each month for my 9-5, I have to submit a month-end report. I flip through my day planner and my daily notebook of To-Do Lists. I’m looking at my accomplishments, my consistency, and my progress. Sometimes it feels like my entire month gets reduced to a checklist. What got done. What didn’t. What I should’ve done better. During those months when I felt entirely too busy, but had nothing to really show for it … I try to look at ways that I did make a difference. Especially outside of my 9-5 because I’m big into takeaways.

Maybe it’s not about what I did. Some months are productive. Some months are a hot mess. Some months feel like momentum and others feel like maintenance. And still others feel like I’m fighting to keep my head above water. Most of the time, I’m somewhere in the middle. If I evaluate my month solely by productivity, I’ll miss important things: hard conversations I had, boundaries I set, and days I showed up when I didn’t feel like it. Not highlight reel material, but moments that matter.

My Monthly Takeaway Practice

I’ve shifted in how I reflect at the end of each month. Instead of asking “What did I get done?”, I ask:

• What stretched me?

• What filled me?

• What drained me?

• What do I want to hold on to?

• What do I want to let go?

Redefining What Counts As A Win

Everyone wants a win, me included. We’ve been conditioned to celebrate big milestones, but I expanded what I call a win. Because, like I told Danielle in a recent podcast, I’ve had times in my life when I couldn’t face another loss or setback. While you can’t fake a win, you can look at things with a new perspective.

Showing up when I didn’t feel like it? Win.

Saying no when I would’ve said yes? (Not really a struggle for me, but I know it’s a challenge for some.) Win.

Taking care of myself instead of pushing through? This is a big one for me. Win.

Adjusting my plan instead of abandoning it? Win.

Not quitting is a win. Pivoting is a win. Protecting my peace is a HUGE win.

What March Actually Looked Like For Me

This was one of the reasons for this blog. It’s Tuesday, March 31st and when I reflected on this last month, it felt like a blur. I feel exhausted, so I must have been busy, but what really happened?

I did my own taxes…again.

Doing my own taxes, as I have now for the last 6 years or so, really makes me feel like an adult. Like, “Look at me, being responsible, organized, on top of my life. And I must be smart and know what I’m doing.” Until I hit the final submission and realize..unless I’m a billionaire, this economy isn’t built in my favor.

So yes, I owe this year. Love that for me.

Did it set me back on some of my financial goals? Also yes. But after cursing those responsible for our country’s economic downfall and questioning their definition of greatness, I handled it. I adjusted. I made a plan. I’m moving forward.

That counts.

I also launched a podcast this month, which is something that lived in my head for a bit before it became real. I’m thrilled that Danielle is my PIC on it, so it doesn’t even feel like work.

I created another LLC for my nutrition and wellness coaching so I can accept HSA and FSA payments- something that supports both my business growth and makes my services more accessible. This act stemmed from a conversation with a fellow woman entrepreneur, so I’m incredibly thankful for her advice and for having someone amazing like her in my life.

I’m ahead of schedule on planning for Goddess Games and getting ready to open registration in April. Event timelines and people’s procrastination cause me stress. Not this year. I also tweaked some things with the goal of a better overall experience for everyone. I’m feeling really good about it.

And my biggest win was setting some firm boundaries in an area of my life. Honestly, this one came with disappointment. Things didn’t play out the way I had hoped, but I didn’t even get mad about it. I knew what was best for me and I chose it. I didn’t abandon myself in the process. If you’ve ever been in a place where you’ve chosen others at your own expense, you know how big it is to choose you. There were seasons when I betrayed myself. It feels really, really good to know that version of me is in the past.

I’ve always been able to count on myself, but this month I proved it. This was my favorite “accomplishment.”

If boundary enforcement was my favorite accomplishment, my most underrated one was securing the prime tent site at a beach campground. This site. The one that’s always booked. The one you check for just in case and it’s never available. I had already started talking myself into settling, like “Just grab another site. The one you had last time was good.”

But I held out. I stayed flexible with my dates. And…I scored! Not a weekend, of course, but close enough to one to make it a nice, long retreat. So in 50ish days, yours truly will be sleeping under the stars, listening to waves crash a few feet away. All because I stayed patient, I didn’t settle, and maybe there was some willing it into existence. Maybe the Universe was like, “Give her the damn campsite. She needs some joy in her life. And it’ll keep her away from people and offline.”

Show up differently in life and one day, you’ll be rewarded.

Not Every Month Starts The Same

Usually, I love the start of a new month. It’s kinda like a clean slate, a fresh start, a roll over to a new calendar page. But April is different for me. I have to brace for this first week.

April 1st through the 7th holds three anniversaries of significant loss - of people and moments in time that changed me. Even though life has moved forward, those dates still carry weight. April comes in with heaviness, but it also brings and leaves with joy. My youngest son’s birthday is at the end of April - one of the best and happiest days of my life.

So, April for me is grief and gratitude. It’s loss and love. It’s the weight of what is no longer here, and the joy of what still is. Those things don’t cancel each other out. They can oddly exist at the same time. When I go to evaluate April - the month that begins with sadness and ends with celebration - it won’t be by what I did. I’ll measure it by how I carried both.

A Simple Monthly Reset

If you don’t have a way to close out your month, here’s something simple you can try:

Take 10 minutes and ask yourself:

• What are 3 things that went well?

• What are 2 things that challenged me"?

• What is 1 lesson that I’m taking with me into next month?

If you want to dive deeper:

• What do I need more of?

• What do I need less of?

Final Thoughts

March wasn’t perfect, so thank goodness I didn’t expect it to be. I do have things to carry forward, and as April begins, I’m reminding myself:

I don’t have to have it all figured out. I need to pay attention to what this season is trying to teach me. April always shows me that life can hold a lot at once. In the middle of it all, I don’t want to miss the moments that can be good, even great.

~Candice

Starting From Here

There’s something strange about sitting down to write again after a long pause. Not because the words aren’t there, but because so much life has happened.

I’ve wanted to hit the “pause button “ many times.

But of course, there isn’t one for life. 

I didn’t step away from this space intentionally or to make a big comeback. In fact, my blogging had fallen off in recent years as I struggled with autoimmune disease, career roadblocks, and empty-nester syndrome.

Somewhere in all of that, I found myself asking:

Where do I fit in this new version of my life?

And how do I show up? 

How do I want to show up? 

I attempted a platform switch to make blogging easier…and ended up losing a decade of content. 

Initially, it was devastating. 

I had documented important moments and transitions, but also the small, mundane ones. The everyday snapshots that would’ve otherwise been forgotten with time.

And if I’m being honest (because direct and brutal honesty is all that this oldest daughter, Virgo, Enneagram 8 woman knows!!!!) I really appreciated those reminders of the moments that didn’t seem like much at the time…but meant more later.

Losing a decade of content doesn’t erase the life that happened in it. Those moments aren’t any less real and the lessons are still here. Now, my response is “Okay, moving on.” I just needed a minute to sit with it.

It’s funny how life comes full circle.
There was a time when “choosing your battles” meant letting my toddler leave the house in a wildly questionable outfit—because I was teaching independence and responsibility.

And now?
I’m applying that same wisdom as I decide how much energy I’m willing to spend going back and forth with GoDaddy. (That’s an online hosting platform for those of you not in the know.)

Choosing your battles doesn’t stop—it just evolves.

I can’t go back and recover everything I lost.
But I can decide how much energy I give to trying.

And more importantly, I can choose what I want to build from here.

So here’s where I am now.

Still me.
Just with a little more perspective and a little less need to explain everything.

But more than anything, I care about what happens during the in-between moments. The ones that shape us in ways we don’t always see right away.

The everyday things. The shifts. The questions. The parts of life that don’t always make the highlight reel, but matter the most.

This blog is a place for that.

Not perfectly polished.
Not always perfectly planned. Which I am struggling with because I am such a planner!!!
Just honest reflections from where I am, as I go.

So if you’re new here—welcome.
And if you’ve been here before—thank you for finding your way back.

I’m still here.
Still growing.
Still writing.

Just from a different place than before.