It was a typical weekday in our house. We were already running late for school (again) - my daughter was still half-dressed, her breakfast was somewhere between her mouth and the dogs, and I was chasing her, holding a hairbrush like it represented the last shred of hope we had of passing as a functioning family.

It’s completely normal for kids (and grown-ups, too) to feel nervous in new situations—meeting new people, starting school, or speaking up in class. But when those nerves turn into deep fear or lead to avoiding everyday activities, it might be more than just shyness. Your child could be struggling with social anxiety.

Understanding what social anxiety looks like - and how to support your child through it - can make all the difference.

In our fast-paced world of notifications, deadlines, and constant screen time, it’s easy to spend most of our lives indoors — breathing conditioned air, staring at blue-lit screens, and rushing from one obligation to the next. But somewhere in the middle of this overstimulated lifestyle, we’ve lost touch with one of the simplest and most powerful tools for better mental health: nature.

Let's be honest. When a relationship ends, especially when it leaves you feeling raw, bewildered, or just plain wronged, there's a whisper that often turns into a shout: "They were a narcissist!" Suddenly, every baffling behavior, every selfish act, every moment that made you question your sanity gets neatly filed under "NPD." And while it’s incredibly tempting to embrace this shiny, validating label, let's take a dry, slightly sarcastic, and dare I say, deeply understanding look at why your ex might just be… your ex.

Let's be honest, the word "affair" often conjures images of clandestine meetings, forbidden passion, and a thrilling escape from the mundane. In the movies, it's all dramatic lighting and whispered confessions. In real life? Well, for a time, it can feel, dare I say, delicious. There's a heady cocktail of novelty, secrecy, and ego-boost that makes an affair seem like the ultimate indulgence. You're getting attention, feeling desired, perhaps even rediscovering a version of yourself you thought was lost to laundry lists and lukewarm dinners.

We live in a culture that praises boundaries and independence, but somewhere along the way, “going no contact” became confused with emotional strength. “Going no contact” is a conscious, deliberate decision to cut off all communication and contact with a person who is genuinely toxic or unsafe: an abusive ex, a parent who causes harm, an addicted sibling steals from you and refuses help. In those situations, going no contact is more than just ghosting someone. It’s not just avoidance or immaturity —it’s protection. It creates distance so healing can happen.

But what happens when cutting people off becomes a pattern—when every relationship ends the same way, with distance instead of resolution? When relational ruptures end the same way? When friendships, family relationships, or romantic partnerships repeatedly fall apart? When they don’t end with repair, conversation, or clarity—but with silence? When emotional discomfort feels intolerable, and distance becomes the default response to conflict or vulnerability? 

When people are cut off, not because they’re dangerous, but because situations become difficult or painful?

And what about the stories we tell ourselves along the way? When the narrative starts to sound oddly familiar—you as the wounded party, the other as the villain? Or when people seem to keep walking away from you? 

At that point, it’s worth asking: I am truly setting boundaries— or simply avoiding the work of relationships?

You know that moment when your child bursts into tears over something that seems, at least on the surface, so small? Like the wrong color cup, or a sibling sitting too close, or the end of a favorite song? If this sounds like your kid, or your family, we’d love to support you. Reach out. We’re here to help.