Motherhood & Healing
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Two Years In: Love, Lessons, and Letting Go of Expectations
Two years ago today, I stood at the edge of a brand-new chapter, holding onto hope, dreams, and a vision of what marriage would be like. I had no idea how much life, motherhood, healing, and hard days would shape those dreams into something deeper—something real.
I didn’t walk into marriage expecting it to be easy, but I also didn’t expect the weight we’d carry so soon. Between raising babies, battling health issues, healing from trauma, and figuring out who we are as individuals, our marriage has had to grow up fast.
There have been beautiful moments—quiet mornings with coffee, belly laughs over inside jokes, the sound of our kids giggling down the hall. And there have been hard ones—nights spent apart, words we wish we could take back, silence that said more than yelling ever could.
What I’ve Learned After Two Years:
1. Expectations can be heavy. Grace is lighter.
I had to let go of the picture-perfect marriage I thought I needed. Real love isn’t found in filtered highlight reels—it’s built in the hard conversations, the forgiveness, and the choice to show up when it would be easier to walk away.
2. Marriage is not the cure for loneliness.
Healing deep wounds doesn’t come through a spouse. I’ve had to walk through the hard work of therapy, faith, and facing the parts of myself I’d rather ignore. Some days I show up for marriage counseling; other days I cancel. Sometimes we start sessions with hope and don’t follow through on the hard work that comes after. It’s messy, but it’s real.
3. We say God is the foundation—but then we act like we know better.
We’ve tried to invite God into our marriage, but the truth is, we’ve also pushed Him out when we wanted control. When we thought we could fix things on our own. When pride, stubbornness, and exhaustion got in the way. And still—He’s been there. Patient. Present. Waiting for us to turn back and build something real with Him at the center.
4. It’s okay to not be okay.
There’s this pressure to make anniversaries sound like fairy tales. But the truth is—we’re still figuring things out. We’ve been in survival mode more than I care to admit. But even in that, we’re learning how to honor the commitment without pretending everything is perfect.
5. Love isn’t always loud.
Sometimes love is quiet. It’s a text that says “I’m praying for you” even after a hard day. It’s staying in the room when walking out would be easier. It’s one more attempt at grace, even after you’ve already given what feels like too much.
Two Years In
So here we are—two years in. Not where I thought we’d be, but still here. Still trying. Still asking God to help us soften our hearts. Still trying to pick up the pieces when everything feels too heavy.
If you’re in a season like this—where love feels like survival, faith feels distant, and healing feels hard—I see you. You’re not alone. Your story is still being written, and God hasn’t walked away from it.
Maybe that’s the most honest way to mark this anniversary—not with perfection, but with presence. Not with flawless vows, but with faith that even messy, half-finished stories can still be redeemed.
A successful marriage isn’t about perfection—it’s about persistence, grace, and choosing love even when it’s hard.
Now I want to hear from you:
How long have you been married? What’s one lesson you’ve learned that helps keep your marriage strong? Drop it below—I’d love to see real wisdom from real people.
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Teaching My Kids Consent, Boundaries, and the Power of “No”
There are a lot of things that are considered “normal” in parenting and family culture that I’ve chosen to step away from. As a mother who is healing from my own trauma and doing the deep work of raising emotionally aware, confident children, I’ve learned that not everything that’s culturally acceptable is healthy—or respectful to children.
In our home, consent and boundaries matter—even for kids. Especially for kids.
Let me share a few examples of what that looks like:
1. They’re Allowed to Say No—Even to Adults
Just because someone asks my child to do something doesn’t mean they have to comply. My children are allowed to respectfully decline. For instance, if someone says, “Come give me a hug,” my child has the right to say no. That’s not disrespect—that’s autonomy.
Forcing a child to give physical affection can send a dangerous message that their body isn’t their own, or that they must ignore discomfort to make others happy. I want my children to grow up knowing they never have to let someone touch them if they don’t want to.
The same goes for being asked to perform—whether it’s showing off a trick, saying a prayer, or telling a joke. If they don’t want to, that’s their right. No means no. I will always back them up.
Because when we ignore our children’s “no,” we teach them that their voice doesn’t matter. That pleasing others is more important than protecting their peace. And that’s not a legacy I want to pass on.
2. They Don’t Have to Greet Every Person in the Room
When we enter someone’s home, I only expect my children to greet the people they know—typically the hosts. For example, if we go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, they say hello to Grandma and Grandpa. If there are extended relatives or friends they’ve never met, I don’t force them to say hi.
I wouldn’t expect an adult to walk into a room full of strangers and greet each person individually—why should my kids?
Instead, I give them space and time to warm up. If they want to engage, they will. But that interaction will come from a genuine place, not a forced obligation.
3. We Handle Our Own Discipline
No one disciplines our kids except me and my husband. It doesn’t matter whose house we’re in—if we are present, we are the ones who correct our children. Respect goes both ways. As guests, we respect your home. As parents, we expect our role to be respected in return.
I’m not okay with anyone else raising their voice at, punishing, or physically disciplining my child. We’ve worked hard to build a safe, trusting, emotionally secure environment for our kids. That does not get undone the minute we step outside our front door.
4. We Do Not Spank
Yes, I used to spank. But after learning more about the emotional and mental toll it can take on children, I’ve stopped. I want my children to feel physically and emotionally safe—always.
So no, my kids will not go to a relative’s house and be spanked. Not by anyone. Period.
Allowing others to physically discipline our children sends a harmful message: that people outside their home can touch or harm them when they’re “bad.” I don’t want to raise children who believe that’s okay. I want to raise children who know that their safety matters, that they are always worthy of respect, and that love never has to hurt.
These are just a few of the boundaries we’ve set in our home. And I know it might rub some people the wrong way—but I’m not here to please everyone. I’m here to protect and empower the little humans God entrusted to me.
Are there things you do differently with your kids? Boundaries you’ve set that others don’t understand? I’d love to hear your thoughts—drop a comment below.
Together, we’re raising a new generation rooted in respect, resilience, and the confidence to say no.
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When Healing and Motherhood Collide
There are moments in motherhood that bring out the very best in us — and the very worst. I didn’t understand why I was so triggered by my daughter’s meltdowns, why I shut down during conflict, or why I couldn’t feel fully present even though I deeply loved my babies.
It wasn’t until I began to truly heal that I saw it clearly: motherhood doesn’t hide our wounds — it exposes them. And that’s not a bad thing.
🌿 The Wounds I Carried
I entered motherhood carrying baggage I didn’t fully unpack.
- Adoption trauma.
- Childhood abuse.
- Years of survival-mode living.
I thought if I pushed it all down, I could build something new — something beautiful. But what’s buried alive doesn’t die. It leaks out in the yelling, the tears, the shame, and the exhaustion that no nap can fix.
✝️ Healing by the Grace of God
My healing journey hasn’t been easy, clean, or fast. I’ve sat in therapy. I’ve prayed through flashbacks. I’ve wept in the shower and worshipped in the chaos.
But I’ve also experienced the gentle hand of a healing God — a Father who doesn’t shame the broken girl in me, but restores her.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3
🧡 My Children Are Not My Do-Over — They’re My Redemption
It hit me one day: I wasn’t failing. I was growing. Every time I break a generational pattern, I am mothering my children and re-mothering myself.
I used to feel ashamed that I had to learn how to love well. Now I thank God I get the chance to do it differently.
🌱 If You’re in the Middle…
To the mama who feels like she’s too broken to raise whole children — you are not too far gone.
Healing takes time. It takes courage. But it also brings joy. And with God’s help, you are already breaking chains.
Your motherhood is not ruined by your past — It’s redeemed by your yes to growth, grace, and God.
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Welcome to The Essential Schoolhouse
Rooted in healing, nourished by faith, sustained by grace.
Hi friend — I’m so grateful you found your way here.
The Essential Schoolhouse isn’t just a blog — it’s a reflection of the life I’m rebuilding one piece at a time. It’s a space where healing is sacred, faith is real, and grace meets us right in the middle of the mess.
I’m a mama of four doing my best to homeschool, homestead (with just chickens!), and live a natural lifestyle in a world that often values convenience over connection. But behind all that, I’m also a woman healing from deep wounds — childhood trauma, foster care, post-adoption abuse, and the invisible weight of chronic illness.
I’ve lived through brokenness — and I’m still walking through it. But I’ve also found beauty here. In from-scratch cooking with little hands by my side. In choosing gentle rhythms over perfection. In holding onto faith even when things fall apart.
That’s what this blog is about.
Here, I’ll share:
- Honest reflections on motherhood, healing, and marriage
- Tips for homeschooling and homemaking from a place of grace
- Natural living with essential oils and homemade everything
- From-scratch cooking (because nourishment matters — body and soul)
- Encouragement for mamas who feel like they’re doing it all alone
If you’re someone trying to create a different kind of life — one rooted in purpose, peace, and healing — you’re not alone. This blog is for the mamas who are choosing to rebuild, redefine, and reclaim their stories.
So here’s to starting where we are —
Rooted in healing, nourished by faith, sustained by grace.
Welcome to The Essential Schoolhouse.
With love,
LeLe