Just Wanna Be Happy: a sad girl rant

I am literally so tired of being unhappy. I just want to be around people who make me feel loved and liked and invited and it’s like… I can’t find nobody like that nowhere. I’m starting to think I’m the problem. I have to be. I feel like I’m unpleasant to be around or maybe I’m so anxious I just make that up in my head. I get around people-adults, strangers, my man & his family, my clients- and feel SO. FUCKING. ALIVE!!! Why can’t I keep that around my FAMILY?? Why are the people I should be closest to the ones who make me feel like I need to throw some distance between us? The literal thought of being “home” with my mom and grandma and in a house I’ve known my whole life makes me SAD. Makes me want to literally walk into traffic. And it’s not even necessarily just them, it’s the loneliness that comes with being there, the isolation, the hyper-vigilance, the constant feeling like I need to be perfect. California is so damn high it feels like I can’t get nowhere, like I’ll never be able to escape the same 4 walls I share with my 2 year old. Georgia feels so free, so familiar, so accesible, so… home. I feel like I can take on the world when I’m here, even if I can’t for real . Even if I get out here and fall flat on my face, dammit I’m HOME! I hate boarding that plane and going back to California and I hate that I felt like that was my only and best option at the time; and that it truly was. I hate that I don’t have enough money to stay here and miss my flight. I’m envious that my brother got to stay and build a life here and fall in love and be happy or at least have a space of his own to be sad in. I’m mad my parents aren’t in any positions to help me how they’ve helped my siblings; mad I didn’t get a scholarship for school, get financial aid help from my dad, just damn mad. Im mad I didn’t give myself a chance cause I was so busy getting away. I have spent so long just trying to survive I don’t even know how to thrive and I hate that for me. I wanna be happy so bad. I wanna stop surviving and be thriving, for real. And I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know what I wanna do with my life, I can’t even pretend I do. I can’t even make a plan for my life cause all I know I want is peace and quiet and solace and companionship and healing and happiness. A space to breath. Some money, too. Some friends that would pull up with a hug and some snacks to sweeten the deal. Oh, and to be a good ass mom like I have been the past two weeks- cause I was happy and chilling and excited for life and felt liked and invited. I wanna keep that feeling forever or at least for more than 2 weeks out the year.

Anyway, I guess this is my re-re-re introduction to blogging. Pray I catch a major break or find somewhere to live or work or something, shit. I’d say send money too but I feel like it’s not necessary and like I’d be begging so yeah, pray for me. Pray I get some happiness around my people and pray a door I need opened opens.

Take From Me, Learn From Me: 2 Years Into Motherhood

It’s been 2 years and life has taken so much from me and given me even more. Year 2 of motherhood has felt like one foot in, one out, and a whole nother one completely disconnected from my body-but super vital and like hanging on by a thread- that double dutches in and out.

I’ve started to become reflective in this second year of motherhood, this 23rd year of life. A little bit more grateful, validated, lost and yet found, home and nowhere near home at all. Trip #2 felt a little like flying too close to the sun in a sweatsuit but dammit we made it and made it we will keep doing.

And while I made it, I learned, and while I learned, I failed to share; but now I’ll share. A secret, a truth, hardly a lie, and a reflection on the year.

1: I learned I lack boundaries and have a problem saying no. Something I knew but didn’t really know! That truth dug it’s heels in real deep every time I threatened to wean, or even started weaning, then gave in a week or 2 later cause I “felt bad”. Not being able to say no without “cause” has led me to some dark thoughts, uncomfortable feelings, and prolonged body sharing; things I absolutely do not want to keep carrying with me.

In saying no, I hope I am teaching my daughter that it is okay to walk away even when others can’t see the reason. I hope I am teaching her that “NO” is a full and complete sentence and does not require anything else following it. I hope by saying “Nah, I’m good” I am teaching my mother that it is okay to walk away. That holding on and waiting for the reason often hurts more than leaving without a “valid” reason. I hope my “Yeah, nah, Ion want to” teaches my grandmother that it’s okay to put yourself first as a woman. I hope my no’s model that being selfish is not always bad, that being mean sometimes saves your ass; no doesn’t have to turn into yes. I’m praying the more I say “Absolutely not” the more comfortable I get with it. I hope my no’s lead to some really big yeses; some life changing ones.

2: Grief makes me angry and anxious. Things I’ve always been but that have been amplified since my grandfather lost 2 of his children; since I lost my auntie and uncle. I have spent the whole year “tucking and rolling”. Sleeping 5 hours, staying up for 19, fueled by nothing but cucumber water and anxiety and “I’m finna drop you off at the fire station!!!”

As I was driving Bean around the block looking at Christmas lights I realized my anger is nothing but anxiety and fear amplified. I’m not mad at her. I’m scared she’ll hurt herself; won’t be self sufficient, will be “annoying”, will be “bad” and not allowed to be a kid in that very specific black girl (maybe-one-day eldest daughter/child) kinda way. I’m scared I’ll leave her or be taken from her- cause I’d never leave her forreal forreal- before either of us are ready. And honestly, we’ll probably never be ready but I at least need to get my baby to pre-K & Kindergarten & all of the first days, school dances, proms, games… all of them. I need to get my daughter to adulthood because then that means I will have made it way past adulthood and have had a chance to live and turn grey. I’m not angry at her; I’m scared… for her and for me.

3: I am my father’s daughter. Full stop. If you ever wanted to see what a “Daddy’s Girl” grows up to be 👋🏾 here I go!

I am his rage. I carry his fears. I am the anxiety that drove him to the intersection of abuse and affection. I carry that, too. Hell, I’m actually trying to put it down cause baby it is heavy! I am my father’s daughter. His phrases roll off my tongue like they belong there, like he loaded them into my database and configured them to never be deleted. Everything I hated about my father has rolled it’s sleeves up and settled into my bones and given me the choice to carry go or carry out. I owe my lineage, my last name, the “carry out”- the change.

4: For every fuck up, misstep, half step, and second guess my child still thinks I’m the greatest. She still chooses to pry my shirt open and nuzzle against me; be in my skin like she was in my womb. Close and warm. Secure and strengthened. Nurtured and nourished. I have chosen to see myself in that same light; to forgive myself. To hold myself close and warm, secured and strengthened. And while I’m sooo grateful she forgives me easily I want to grow the space between needing forgiveness and just being, or allowing her to be. I’m grateful for recovery but I’d rather save it for the “big moments”. But you know what, when I think about it, this whole year has been a “big moment” for me. I have taken hit after hit this year so fuck it, we can cheers to the recovery and the small spaces too!🥂

See, grace. Secured and strengthened. Mercy. Giving it to myself from here on out while simultaneously growing that space between needing it and not needing it cause I didn’t “do too much”.

While this year felt like: flying so close to the sun I got burnt, came down, got some aloe vera gel, then hitched my crazy ass back up to that same sun-in a different spot-and repeated the process; I made it. We made it. Win some, lose many, but at least I am HERE!!! I am grateful for that and that alone.

2022 you did a number on me. 2023 you gotta show me how good it can get. Cheers to growth, reflection, dedication, and heartbreak. One way or another, next year will be better. Period!

Lemme Get Dem Titties Back

684 days. Almost 2 years. My body, her body, literally skin-to-skin everyday for all these days. 684 days…and counting.

Now, 699 days. Nearly 700 days. Probably about 10,000 nursing sessions. Me and Bean, Bean and me; fed by the boob, tethered by the boob.

I am so damn tired y’all and yet… I keep setting myself back. I keep finding an excuse or two- “Well she hasn’t eaten today”. “But it’s our bonding time!” “But… I don’t want anymore. I can power through.” But… I can’t power through. I need to stop, I need to just end it and be done. I need to put me first. I don’t know how to put me first.

I feel guilty listening to her cry, watching her ask for “boobs“, pulling my shirt up & bra down then gagging dramatically cause the ACV + cabbage is fcking RANK LOL! Making the decision to officially wean has taught me that I don’t know how to end things without a “reason”. I have to have a big, grandiose sign flashing to the exit. Not just in nursing, not just in parenting, in general. I need a big, “can’t miss this shit” reason to leave. It’s probably why I didn’t leave wasshisname when I should have- nothing was wrong but everything was wrong. The math was mathing and yet… here we are two years later.

Breastfeeding was so beautiful and taxing and easy and transformative and empowering and…FAWKING DRAINING!!! It is so taxing on the nursing mother’s body and mind. So much of my breastfeeding journey was me forcing myself to keep going cause “it’s for the best,” “I said a year”, “two years is normal in other parts of the world!!” But fck all that! I should’ve listened to my body, she has never steered me wrong. I knew I was tired. I knew I wanted my body back but I hadn’t learned my lesson yet. I didn’t know that you could walk away from things for “no reason”. That my peace of mind and bodily autonomy were big enough reasons to stop. 699 days, almost 700 even, might be 700 even and this is the end. This is the start of me putting myself first- to be a better woman, better mommy, free & ready for the next phase.

If you’re interested in a non-crying (at least for us) way to wean: Freeze some cabbage leaves, mix Apple Cider Vinegar with water, spritz your nipples with the ACV water mix then put the cabbage leaves in your bra. I’m not saying it’s fool proof but uhhh… I THINK IT’S FOOLPROOF 😅 (PS there’s a video on my Twitter & Instagram detailing this method)

Good luck on your weaning journey. If you’re ready, you’re ready. There doesn’t have to be any reason beyond that. Be ready, document your last nursing session, and get dem titties back Pooh!!

Change is good…?

“I’m changing, Mom. I’m finally figuring out who I am. But I’m scared it’ll take me away from you.” -Meilin Lee, Turning Red 2022

I made a promise to myself, and to Bean, that no matter what I do or don’t do- Imma always try. I have not been trying lately. I’ve just been existing. Floating. Halfway in, halfway out; mostly out, sometimes in. I’m tired of floating and clinging, grabbing on to shit that don’t have my name on it. So I’m letting go; gonna sink for a while then come right back up, renewed and refreshed, like a new woman.

The Hot Young Mom was never really *it* for me. It was a cute name, sure, but it was never giving what I needed it to give. I couldn’t show up as my true authentic self because I had given myself this moniker that read “bad b!tch” “MILF” “hot girl with a baby on her hip”- all things that I am and could be just… not right now. When I started this blog and platform, I needed something to do. I needed a reason to get in the shower everyday and get dressed; then I never did. I couldn’t commit to it. I couldn’t pull the “hot” and the “mom” together cause I was struggling to survive. No cap. I just wanted to show up as me- the me I was right then- but I couldn’t cause I had given myself this standard that I couldn’t live up to. I had given myself a pressure that I didn’t need or deserve. So, I’m pivoting.

I can show up as the “fun mom” or the “cool mom” hell, even the “overly obnoxious, laughs too damn much silly mom”. I can not, currently, show up as The Hot Young Mom… and that’s okay with me. She’s not going anywhere and I have some ideas on where to take her but right now, I’m putting my girl on the bench. Turning down the fire and showing up as me- right here, right now.

Now, without further ado:

My name is Dee, the Mother of Fun! I am going back to square one to give y’all all things sensory play, imaginative play, intentional parenting, screen time and socialization and more. I am so very grateful to every single one of you who will stick around and to those of you who are just now joining the team. Let’s play and make some memories, yea? If you’re already following me on Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook (currently @ THEHOTYOUNGMOM) there is no need to try to find me again, my new name should be on your feed shortly. If you’re new here and wanna keep up, the new social addresses will be @ MOTHEROFFUN_ See y’all there!

“Umm, so yeah.” A single mom’s truth

I’m a bad mom. Like legitimately terrible at this motherhood thing and like maybe to outside people I’m not but I am. I lose my cool ALL of the time. I want to yell when I’m not being obeyed. I be tempted to “pop her legs” or say “Imma spank yo butt” like 75 times a week. I don’t like leaving the house with her, or at least the process it takes to even get out the door. I wish a certain somebody that will (maybe) one day be pivotal to her life would disappear. We don’t do mommy and me classes, play dates, hell I couldn’t even drag myself out of the bed last winter to keep her in swim lessons. I’m a bad mom and Im okay with that being true.

Kind of but not really.

It’s like I wanna be a good mom and I want to be patient and calm and like my mom idols but like… I just don’t think I have it in me. I don’t think I was made for all this “new age parenting” as my grandma calls it. But I’ve been trying my hand at it for almost 2 years so maybe I was? Maybe I can do this and I just need some help. Cause she’s a happy kid and she’s expressive and she’s fun and she’s soooo fracking cute and lovable and EVERYBODY adores her and people compliment me on my parenting alllll the time; so why do I feel like this? Why do I, the person this baby always wants, feel like a shit mother? Like I can’t get it right no matter how hard I try?

Crushin’

I think I might have a teeny tiny crush on like 2 people y’all. One more than the other but still… this is weird. And uncomfortable. And kind of fun? I don’t know. Whatever this is, it’s refreshing. New, different, awakening or whatever.

It’s been a long time since I even looked at somebody romantically and to be honest, I liked it that way. I was guarded and felt protected; can’t hurt me if you can’t get in! And truthfully, I liked it better that way- guarded and protected . I have a hard time being vulnerable anddd I don’t know if I necessarily consider that a bad thing right now. Like what even is the benefit in dating to marry and falling for people? Marriage? Bleh🤢 More kids? More bleh 🤢 Lifelong companionship? Bleh bleh bleh BLEH!!! I like being guarded and protected; Beanie & Mommy in our little world (but really I don’t). The idea of falling head over heels for somebody is so cute and used to keep me up at night but ever since The Terrible, Awful, No-Good Baby Daddy I just… can’t. And I probably should be open to it one day, maybe even now, but like… why?

Seriously though, imagine me giving my heart or anything else (wink wink) to another person and they break not only my heart, but Bean’s too. What the hell am I supposed to do then? Sit with that grief and heartbreak? Try not to let it consume me? Dust myself and try again? I think the fuck not!! Why have to catch myself when I don’t ever have to fall in the first place? That’s silly!

Except, it’s really not silly at all and it’s not crazy or far fetched to think that somebody likes me- maybe even one day will love me- and enjoys my company AND shows an interest in my child. Or maybe it is and this is all going to blow up in my face in a month or so but isn’t that the beauty in having crushes and getting to know people? Isn’t there something fun and refreshing about seeing what you do and don’t like, who you do and don’t like? I think there’s a certain kind of beauty in baring it all and throwing caution to the wind just for the sake of having a hand to hold when you’re walking down the street and I’m ready for it. I’m ready to redefine myself as a woman and I think dating is a big first step in that direction- to see what I do and don’t like, what makes me laugh now and what doesn’t.

It’s scary, sure, but silly it is not.

Feelin’ Good As Hell

“Baby how you feelin?”

“FEELIN GOOD AS HELLLL!” I’m screaming that from the rooftops today! Baby I am feeling good as HELL on today’s date! I feel unstoppable, powerful, cute, refreshed, grateful… all of the things and I’m holding on to it like it’s my last breath.

Wait, shit, that last line might’ve been in bad taste considering *waves around* all of this but whatever, y’all know what I mean! I got my pep back, my steps have been reordered; I feel like I can breathe again. God I haven’t been breathing right but today… today I might. I might go outside and stand under the sun (or moon, maybe both) and just BREATHE. A long, deep, belly sigh that rattles my rib cage. Did you know that most of us don’t breathe properly? We’ve been conditioned to take shorter, choppier breaths when we should be taking long, belly deep breaths. Try it with me: a long, belly deep breath. One where you drop your shoulders and roll your head around in a circle. A sigh should fill the space you’re in. Breathe.

I feel like I haven’t been breathing right since my auntie died- like the wind has been taken from me. I may never breathe right again but today I will; every chance I get cause clinging onto the hard shit only makes it harder. But leaving it out to dry also makes it harder so I’m finding my balance and feeling good about it. Recovery, that’s the word. Freedom, another one. Joy, it did indeed come in the morning, early in the morning and on a Friday, but it came. I’m feeling good on this Friday with my joy in my hand & my baby pulling the other… I can breathe again. I can smile and be okay. Get back to me a little. Do what I told my auntie I was gonna do.. make her proud & what not.

I hope you find some “feel good” in this here Friday like I have. Carry it with you through the weekend, hold on to it, & never let it go. Stand under the sun and breathe a little. You deserve that much. Show me your spot between (toddler) mom chaos and breathing; your feel good place. I’ll meet you there 💗

Anything for my baby: A Toddler Valentine’s Day Gift Guide

Picture it: Walmart (or Target or Dollar Tree- any store, really) 7 days before Valentine’s Day and you still have nothing but a box of candy for your toddler! You can’t believe the holiday has snuck up on you like this and you are absolutely stuck on what to buy. Don’t fret! I’ve got you covered; after all, I am the queen of last minute crafting and gifting.

Browse the gift guides below and keep reading to see how you can celebrate Valentine’s day with your little one! No expensive budget or extensive planning required 😉

Toddler Vday Gift GuidesDownload me

Create your own gift bags, or show me what you bought on Instagram or Twitter @thehotyoungmom and keep an eye on my pages for more ideas!

What a Life to Take

“Hey Siri, Cue: real sad girl vibes, loads of liquor, and a whole bunch of tears!” My fawking auntie died y’all!!! My girl, my dawg, my mama when my mama was getting on my nerves- GONE!!! I swear to GOD my heart is about to walk out my chest. Forreal forreal.

When I tell y’all these have been the longest 9 days of my LIFE?!?! This song has been in my head on the worst kind of repeat and I honestly don’t even care enough to find a new tune to take over. I miss my girl! I’m tired of losing family, seriously. I honestly got some questions for my homie Big G (God, not Greg- but Greg too, shit!)! I’ve been here before- in the thick of grief and sadness and unknowing- but THIS??? This right here feels like my soul is outta my body. I ain’t ever been this sad and broken up before; and that’s saying a LOT cause I forreal thought I was gone die without my god daddy.

I can’t seem to find the right or appropriate words to euoligize my auntie AunTee (I HAVE TO EUOLOGIZE MY MUHFUKKIN AUNTIE YALL!!!!) but this seems wayyy more appropriate and non-chaotic than continously rambling on Twitter in short threads about her. Or have I just let other people’s ideas of “oversharing” cloud my mind? EITHER WAY, I have to give honor to my AunTee and the life she lived so here goes. Bare with me, it’s going to be messy and chaotic and kinda all over the place. My heart seriously wants out of my chest these days.

Mkay so where do I start? I guess I should just frame this like a conversation with her- say what I need to say, raw and uncut, in hopes that it’s recieved properly and gets a laugh outta somebody.

Tanisha, I miss you. I am utterly heartbroken and pissed off that you left me and I know that’s selfish cause you didn’t leave *just* me but dammit AunTee YOU LEFT ME! I don’t understand the plan behind this one and quite frankly, I don’t think there was one. I think sometimes God be f*cking up and this was one of those times but like how could he take you then be like “Oops! My bad! Wrong Tanisha!” ya know? So I think he just kinda had to rock with this mistake-really own it and sit with it and just give us the strength to deal with it. I still think it was bogus as hell! I miss you. It’s been 9 days and I got like 900 things to tell you already. First one being, where the hell my little chewy candies at?? You promised ME that big bag then I seen Auntie B with a small bag of em. Wassup with that AunTee, huh?? Hella whack LOL! I like saying “hella”, it’s always reminded me of you. I used to think you were sooo cool when you said it; how the word and the Bay Area accent rolled off your tongue like honey. Did you like honey? I never really knew but I feel like you did. Remember how we used to tell stories- all around the point, lose the plot, then circle back? Imma miss that. Imma miss you sighing and saying “Niecey Pooh, what’s the story?” then the way I’d laugh and refocus. We had sooooo many more memories to make. I have sooo many more stories to tell you. Remember when I told you about Bean, how you jumped into Mama-Auntie mode and was instantly on my side, no questions? Where else Imma find you at Auntie? In who else? I’m so jealous Baby Crystal got you back! I guess it’s only fair though, I did have her Mommy for 22 years. 22 long and good years that, right now, feel very short and futile. How did 22 years go so quickly and where can I get more of em? You changed me. You gave me some of the best of you even when I was giving very much monster teenager/young adult. I’m carrying this grief in my shoulders and the “one boob I have”. I was SO excited to share my motherhood journey with you- to make it ours cause I know what it meant to you. Thank you for walking me through it, for holding my & Mommy’s hand, for loving Bean like she was really your grandbaby. Tanisha, I feel like I can’t go on without you. I feel like Imma pass out at any given moment. Like my breath is being withheld from me. I can’t figure out how to do this; how to cherish the good when it’s reminding me so much of the bad. I need you to tell me how to do this. How do I keep going? I miss your smile and laugh already. I’m so glad we shared so many of those. I’ve cried for 9 days straight but Auntie if you coulda seen that ugly mess I bought for the service? Baybeeee 🤣🤣🤣! I can hear you now: “Foo, what is that??” I gotta wear it though. The dress made me feel connected to you, reminded me of you in a good way. Plus, it was on sale for like hellaaaaa cheap so like I had to get it! Also, can I borrow a pair of your heels for this weekend? I know you got some pink or orange ones somewhere in yo house! Imma ask the boys! You taught me how to put on lashes, braid with weave, do a 27 piece, encouraged me to get my lash certification, believed in me EVERY time I took up a new hobby or venture. You gave me you and I just hope I can do the same. I miss you so so much. My heart hurts but at least you’re safe. Tell my folks I said wassup, tell Uncle Rodney he could’ve waited at least 5 more years before needing his big sis but I get it ya know. I hope I do you some justice. I love you AunTee, my Jill of All Trades (& master of MANY!)

Surface Pressure & Other Encanto Life Lessons

I’m obsessed with Encanto; there, I said it. I’m obsessed with the movie Encanto and I want you to be too! If the soundtrack was on wax, I’d probably have run it down by now- that’s how bad it is over here LOL!! In my constant watching and analyzing, I’ve taken a couple of wonderful life lessons from the “Family Madrigal”, lessons I share with you below. Keep reading then tell me what lessons you took from the movie or if it’s next up on your watchlist!

Warning: This post contains movie spoilers. Don’t proceed if you hate spoilers!

Disney’s Encanto is now available on Disney+

Encanto’s opening scene shows Mirabel, the main character, and Abuela-one of the movie’s main antagonists- sharing a very intimate moment. As the movie proceeds, those shared moments get few and far between and you see the dynamic between the two change drastically. Mirabel is the only Madrigal that doesn’t possess a tangible gift and Abuela makes it obvious- and damming. Eventually, Mirabel’s gift is revealed and we see that her gift is the gift of chain breaking. By the end of Encanto, the message is made clear: You have the power to break curses. Birth order, magical gifts, and familial opinions be damned; YOU have the power to BREAK GENERATIONAL CURSES!

Mirabel’s older sister, Luisa, is the “strong one”. Her gift is strength; unsurprisingly she carries all of the family burdens. Luisa is the movie’s constant reminder to check on your strong friends, to give them a space to drop those burdens they’re expected to carry. As the movie progresses and we get to explore Luisa’s character I realized that strong doesn’t have to be my middle name, that it’s okay to lay my burdens at the feet of a trusted person, and that my worth is not tied to my acts of service. Lessons I needed and have since internalized. Thank you Luisa!

One of my favorite messages the movie emphasizes is: Perfectionism is the thief of joy. Isabela, Mirabel’s eldest sister, is described as “effortlessly perfect who’s never even had a bad hair day”. She is never allowed to misstep or make a mistake and her only gift to the town is her ability to create beautiful flowers. The girl is a friggin florist that has Abuela wrapped around her finger; the perfect depiction of the eldest daughter, actually. Once Mirabel frees her sister from the idea of perfectionism and the burden of the matriarch’s opinion, we really get to see Isabela blossom. You can never be truly happy if you’re focused on being “perfect”- I had to sit with that and then free myself as well.

Some gifts require a little soul searching. That’s it, that’s the message we got from Mirabel’s storyline. My mom often jokes that Mirabel’s gift is “empathy” and I semi-jokingly reply, “That ain’t no gift! Nobody wants to be empathetic!” But… it is a gift. Empathy is a gift and it is a necessary one; one that not everybody posesses. In the beginning of the movie one of the neighborhood kids jokes that Mirabel’s gift “might be denial” and..well… was it really a joke? How many of us run from the Mirabel Madgrial inside of us- the empathetic, trustworthy, “make magic without a gift” selves? I know I do, frequently. Or, I used to, I don’t think I want to anymore so I probably won’t. I think 2022 will be my year of sitting with myself and digging deep to find my “gift” even if it is revealed that my gift is empathy LOL.

Throughout the movie, Abuela is painted as the villian and this terrible, toxic matriarch but she’s really not. From an adult, and mom, lense she’s just an old lady with some baggage and some trauma; one who was never given the freedom or space to lay her worries down. Once Mirabel “snaps” on her we get to see a change in Abuela- a necessary change, that same freedom Luisa was given- and the lesson becomes: No one is ever really stuck in their ways. It’s a lesson that can be applied across many situations and relationships but especially to those family dynamics where you’re shaking things up. Positive Discipline and Conscious Parenting are such bold and “new” journeys that really push the status quo and force our own Abuelas to have to sit and reckon with some of their own shit; to admit that they did the best they could AND that they might’ve traumatized us in the process. I think that was one of the most important themes of the movie: push the boundaries, stand on what you say and believe, and be the change you want to see. When you walk in your true self it’s easier to convert and free others to be themselves, too. That’s a lesson I like to tell my workshop participants, and myself.

I hope you can take some of these lessons and apply them to your own life and personal growth, especially during these trying times. If you haven’t already, go give Encanto a watch and let the magic of the Madrigals transform you too. See you over on Instagram!