• Encouragement & Faith,  Motherhood & Healing

    I Spent Years Wanting to Be Somebody… And I Already Was

    When I became an EMT, it felt like I had finally taken a step toward becoming somebody. But even then, it wasn’t enough for me. I always wanted something more. I dreamed of having a name for myself—something my kids could look at and be proud of. Something that screamed, “She did something with her life.”

    Now, looking back, I know that desire ran much deeper than ambition.

    Growing up adopted, I spent so much of my life trying to be accepted. Not just loved in the general sense, but truly seen. I felt close to the daughter in the family and their youngest son—I could be myself around them. But when it came to the parents… I never felt like I fit. I wasn’t the all-star athlete like their biological daughter. I wasn’t the big-deal football player like their son. I wasn’t even theirs, and I was constantly reminded of that.

    I was… me. I played soccer, ran track, swam on the team, did marching band. I was in a lot of things—things that meant something to me—but they never seemed to matter to anyone else.

    That planted a seed in me early on. I thought, “Maybe if I become someone important, I’ll finally be enough.”

    So I chased that. I worked hard. I pushed myself. I became an EMT, and I loved the job more than I ever expected. But even then, I wanted more. I started studying to become a paramedic, with dreams of becoming a firefighter. Not just any firefighter—I wanted to do rescue missions in the South, fly out West to help fight wildfires. I wanted my life to matter.

    One day, I was telling my truck partner all these dreams. He looked at me and said, “You already are somebody. Being an EMT is being somebody.” But in that moment, I didn’t believe it. I told him, “But I don’t have a four-year degree. I’m just an EMT.”

    Later, I said that same thing to someone else—“I’m just an EMT”—and they stopped me mid-sentence. “You’re not just an EMT. You help people when they can’t help themselves. That’s something.”

    Even then, though… it didn’t sink in.

    Then everything changed.

    After my stroke, my world came crashing down. I lost my job, my physical strength, my dreams. I lost the identity I had built my life around. And worse—I realized how much I hadn’t appreciated it while I had it. That’s one of life’s cruelest lessons, isn’t it? Losing something you didn’t even realize you were taking for granted.

    My depression hit hard. I felt useless, aimless, angry. I spent so many nights crying and asking God, “What do You want from me now? What lesson am I supposed to learn from this? What good is left in me?” I went from being someone who ran into emergencies to someone who couldn’t even carry a laundry basket up the stairs without help. I didn’t recognize myself.

    Now, I was just a disabled mom. No career. No title. No path forward.

    Then a few months ago, I had brain surgery. I went in for an angiogram and my kids waited while I was in the operating room. While they waited, they were given blank sheets of paper and markers. And they drew me pictures.

    When I woke up, I saw them all.

    Each one had bright colors, silly drawings, crooked hearts—and the words, “I love you.”

    And that’s when it hit me.

    This is who I am.

    I’m their mom. I’m the only one who can be that for them. No one else can take my place. No job, no degree, no title in the world could ever compete with that role. And they don’t love me because of what I do. They love me because I’m me.

    Yes, I still miss being an EMT. There’s a part of me that always will. But I know now, with everything in me, that this is where I’m meant to be. I’ve spent years trying to earn a name for myself… and my name has been Mom since the day I held my first baby in my arms.

    I used to beg to be seen, to be known. And all along, little eyes were watching me. Little arms were reaching for me. Little hearts were loving me with no conditions.

    And now, I’m working on making sure my kids always feel seen—no matter what they choose to do or who they choose to be. Whether it’s sports, art, music, science, farming, or something that doesn’t even have a name yet. I want them to know their worth doesn’t come from their performance. They don’t need a title to be valuable. I want them to feel accepted in ways I never did, so they don’t spend years in the spiral I had to climb out of.


    Can you relate to that?

    Have you ever chased something you thought would make you whole—only to realize what you truly needed was right in front of you the whole time?

    If you’ve ever struggled with identity, purpose, or grief over what you’ve lost… I see you. And maybe, just maybe, you already are exactly who you were meant to be.

    Let’s remind each other of that.

  • Encouragement & Faith,  Homeschooling & Family,  Motherhood & Healing

    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. 

  • Homeschooling & Family,  Motherhood & Healing

    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.

  • Homeschooling & Family

    Slow Mornings and the Beauty of Routines Over Schedules

    There’s something sacred about a slow morning. The kind where the sun peeks in gently instead of being forced to rise with an alarm. Around here, we don’t jump out of bed to meet a schedule—we ease into the day.

    Our dogs used to eat at 7 a.m., but even they’ve adapted to our flow. Now it’s 9 a.m. breakfast for them, and honestly, they seem just as content. The kids sometimes lay back down after waking up. We eventually gather around the kitchen for a slow breakfast, no rush, no deadlines. Just togetherness.

    And the best part? There’s nothing on the schedule. Because I’ve realized schedules overwhelm me. They feel like a constant deadline I can’t escape—ticking time boxes that strip joy from the moment.

    But routines? Routines feel different. Routines are like rhythms. They bring comfort and direction without pressure. You can step into a routine and still feel like yourself. A schedule demands obedience to the clock. A routine invites you to flow.

    Routine vs. Schedule: What’s the Difference?

    A schedule is bound by time: breakfast at 7:00, math at 9:00, lunch at noon. It’s rigid. A routine, however, is about order—not time. You still do breakfast, math, and lunch, but when your family is ready. There’s freedom in that.

    I was raised on routines. And when I became a daycare teacher, everything switched to strict scheduling. I understand the purpose—especially with large groups—but I noticed something troubling. Kids were always being told to hurry up. They weren’t done painting, or building, or just enjoying the moment. But the schedule said it was time to move on. Their creativity was cut short because the next item on the list was calling.

    It felt like bootcamp.

    I think schools and daycares often become a standardized test for creativity. Some kids need more time to express, to understand, to explore. Some kids need to do and talk it through instead of reading or listening and then moving on. I’ve always been that kind of learner—hands-on. I learn by watching, then trying, then improving. Reading and doing doesn’t click the same way.

    That’s one of the many reasons we homeschool and live the way we do. Slow mornings, open-ended learning, grace-filled routines over clock-bound schedules.

    I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Do you prefer structure or flow? Have you noticed how your kids (or even you) learn best? Let’s chat in the comments.

  • Encouragement & Faith

    When God Redirects Your Dreams

    I’ve always loved to sing.

    It’s one of those deep joys that’s hard to explain — the kind that feels like a soul exhale. People have told me over the years, “You should sing on the worship team,” and honestly, it’s something I’ve quietly dreamed about. I imagined standing up there, offering my voice to God, helping others enter into His presence.

    But last night, sitting in church, something shifted.

    I felt God’s presence — not just in the worship, but in the quiet moments afterward. A tug. A whisper. A redirection. Not away from worship, but into something deeper. Something more personal. Something I didn’t expect.

    It wasn’t the first time I’d felt drawn to this new calling. In fact, I remember expressing this exact desire years ago, when I was still living with my adoptive family. But instead of support, I was shut down immediately. Silenced. And that memory still stings.

    Now, even though I feel God stirring something in me, I find myself hesitating.

    Why? Because that old lie is still lurking in the shadows: You’re not good enough. Because rejection — especially when it comes from the people who were supposed to love you — has a way of sticking.

    But here’s what I’m learning:

    “The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” — Romans 11:29

    That means God hasn’t changed His mind about me. That the dreams He planted in my heart — whether to sing, write, teach, or serve — are still valid, even if others never saw them. That even if my path looks different than I imagined, it doesn’t make it any less holy.

    Maybe my worship isn’t meant for the stage. God isn’t wasting my story. He’s repurposing it.

    So if you’ve ever felt a calling get rerouted… If you’ve ever questioned your worth because someone else couldn’t see your potential… If you’re carrying old wounds that whisper “Don’t even try” — know this: You are not disqualified.

    God still wants to use you. Maybe in ways you never expected. Maybe in ways that look quieter… but go deeper.

    And maybe — just maybe — your healing is your ministry.

    Want to follow along as I figure this out in real time?

    You’re welcome here.

    This space is for healing hearts, hidden gifts, and holy redirections.

  • Homeschooling & Family

    Why We Choose to Homeschool (And Why We Still Do)

    When I first started homeschooling, I wasn’t sure I was “qualified.” I didn’t have a teaching degree. I didn’t grow up homeschooled. But what I did have was a deep conviction:

    My children deserve to learn in an environment where they’re loved, known, and safe.
    Homeschooling started as a leap of faith — now it’s a way of life.
    🏡 More Than Just School at Home

    Homeschooling in our house looks like:

    • Morning devotionals around the kitchen table
    • Math with a baby on my hip and a toddler building forts
    • Science in the garden
    • Reading under blankets in the living room
    • History through storytelling and heart-to-heart talks

    It’s messy, beautiful, and completely rooted in real life.

    🌱 Why We Chose This Path

    Here’s what led us to homeschool:

    • I wanted my kids to grow up without the pressure to perform — to learn at their pace, not the system’s.
    • We wanted faith to be central in their education.
    • After facing trauma in my own childhood, I craved a space where my kids felt secure and connected every single day.
    • Flexibility — especially with my health journey and Moyamoya — allows us to make space for grace on hard days.

    📅 What Our Days Look Like

    Every season looks different, but here’s our current rhythm:

    Morning time: Slow wakeups. Long conversational breakfasts.

    Core subjects: Math, reading, and writing — often at the kitchen table or outside

    Afternoons: Nature walks, baking, board games, or life skills

    Fridays: Fun Fridays — crafts, field trips, or family projects

    We follow more of a Charlotte Mason / eclectic approach — with lots of freedom to follow their interests.

    ✝️ Centered on Family. Sustained by Faith.

    Homeschooling isn’t always easy. There are days I question everything, cry in the laundry room, and wonder if I’m doing enough. But through it all, God keeps showing up.

    “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” – Proverbs 22:6

    My children are learning academics, yes — But more importantly, they’re learning to love God, love people, and live fully.

    💬 If You’re Considering Homeschooling…

    You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be willing to show up, love big, and keep learning alongside your kids. Homeschooling isn’t about perfection — it’s about connection. And that’s something every mama can give.

  • Motherhood & Healing

    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.

  • Homemaking & Natural Living

    From Surviving to Thriving: Why I Chose Essential Oils

    How Essential Oils Became Part of Our Healing Journey

    Real wellness starts with a mama’s “no more.”

    I didn’t set out to sell oils. I wasn’t looking to join a team. I was just trying to help my daughter.

    💔 It Started with a Diagnosis

    My oldest was diagnosed with eczema.

    The solution? Steroid creams.

    But something about that didn’t sit right with me. I wanted more than a temporary fix — I wanted to understand why her body was struggling and how to support it gently. That search for a better way led me to essential oils… and eventually, to complete an online aromatherapy certification.

    That one decision changed everything.

    🌿 Oils Became Part of Our Everyday Healing

    After I started using oils consistently, something incredible happened:

    👉🏾 None of my kids have needed medication for their eczema since.

    We found blends that supported their skin, their emotions, and their immune systems. Oils became part of our rhythm — diffused during school time, rolled on at bedtime, and used in DIY balms, cleaning sprays, and immune rollers.

    🌼 Why I Chose Young Living

    I tried a few brands early on, but when I started researching purity, sourcing, and sustainability, I knew I wanted something I could trust with my kids.

    I became a Young Living Brand Partner in 2024, not because I wanted a business — but because their oils made the kind of impact I had to share.

    Since joining the Young Living family, here’s what’s happened in my own body:

    • 🙌🏾 I’m no longer taking anxiety or depression medication
    • 💊 I’m off my cholesterol medication
    • 🌙 I’m sleeping better
    • 🧠 I can think more clearly
    • 💪🏾 I have more energy than I’ve had in years

    And all of that while raising four kids, homeschooling, managing a household, and living with a chronic illness (Moyamoya). These oils don’t fix everything — but they support everything. And that matters.

    🕊️ A Natural Path Rooted in Grace

    I believe God gives us wisdom and resources — not to fear the world, but to nurture the lives He’s entrusted to us. Essential oils became one of those tools for me. A gift I didn’t expect… but one I’ll never be without again.

    ✨ Curious about essential oils or looking to start your own natural living journey?

    I’d love to help you get started with Young Living — the company that helped me go from survival mode to thriving in my wellness, mindset, and motherhood. 🌿💛

    Whether you’re dealing with stress, skin issues like eczema, low energy, or just want a cleaner home without the toxins — there’s an oil (or five!) for that. 😉

    🛒 You can order through my link using referral code: 4664955

    💌 Or you can email me at theessentialschoolhouse@gmail.com — I’d be honored to help you choose the right oils for your family!

    Natural living isn’t a trend for us.

    It’s a lifestyle rooted in healing, nourished by faith, and sustained by grace.

    Let’s begin, together. 🌿

  • Encouragement & Faith,  Homemaking & Natural Living,  Homeschooling & Family,  Motherhood & Healing

    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