Becoming Mom: Part Two

Protection

When I first met my doula, Sarina, she asked me to describe the intentions I had for my pregnancy in just a few words. I chose: intentional, grounded, healthy, peaceful, and most importantly, protected.

If you've followed my work, you probably know that healing intergenerational trauma is a big part of what I do — and honestly, it's something I’m always working through myself. I truly believe many therapists are drawn to the areas they’re most curious about in their own lives. That was definitely true for me on October 25th, 2024 — the day I realized that if I didn’t want to pass down the pain of the past to my child, I was going to have to get really honest with myself. I needed stronger boundaries — not just to protect him from other people’s sh*t, but from my own sh*t, too.

So, I went back to the drawing board. I asked myself: What boundaries were solid? Which ones weren’t? Where was I enabling people? How was I playing a role in the very patterns I wanted to end? I had to get honest about where I hadn’t shown up fully — in my family, in my friendships, in myself.

And the truth is, most of my relationships have grown from that work. But some, I did not trust that I had the capacity to continue in. I’m still grieving that part. I realized I’ve avoided a lot of hard conversations because I struggle with grief. But now that I’m in it — really in it — I see grief differently. It’s not just about loss. It’s a doorway into deeper self-understanding and compassion.

Learning to be kind to myself, and be okay with my decisions, has allowed me to let go of pieces of generational pain I didn’t even know I was carrying and even repeating in my relationships. It’s also helped me see the people I once held at a distance with new eyes. People I wanted to be vulnerable with, but didn’t know how. Turns out, I was the one in my own way. And now, I can own that. 

The wildest and most unexpected part of all this? I felt zero guilt communicating my boundaries. Seriously — none. And for someone like me, that was huge. I think part of it is the deep, almost instinctive pull I feel to protect my child. But it’s also the self-compassion I’ve been practicing. Not only does my child deserve protection, but I do too. 

Another surprising notion is that for the first time in my life — especially as a highly sensitive person — I’m not completely wrecked by the conflict and chaos in the world. Instead of spiraling, I’m learning how to stay grounded in the grief that unacceptable injustice exists in the world. I still feel it deeply. I’m still disturbed, of course. But I’m no longer undone by it. I can hold space for what’s happening — for my child, for myself, for others — without losing my footing. I’m actually more in tune, a better advocate, and a more grounded listener.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how to protect myself from comments about my body—especially the ones that are meant to be kind but land… not so kindly. It’s something I’m still figuring out.

Back in high school and college, I didn’t realize how much I was dressing to please other people—specifically to appeal to men or to impress other women. Looking back, it feels a little cringey to admit, but it’s true. And one of my promises with this blog is to be honest. That started to shift for me senior year, when my best friend came out. Watching them fully embrace who they were made me ask myself: why can’t I do the same with how I show up in my own skin? If they could be that brave, surely I could be brave enough to wear what felt like me, not what I thought other people wanted to see.

That moment sparked a long process of reconnecting with my body—not just physically, but emotionally too. Over time, the comments changed. Instead of people telling me I looked “cute” or “thin” (or worse, creepy comments from older men about my leggings—yeah, ew), I started hearing things like “you look happy” or “you seem grounded.” And those words actually matched how I felt on the inside. That shift meant everything to me.

But now, being pregnant, the unsolicited comments are back—with a vengeance. Strangers, acquaintances, even extended family can’t help themselves:
“You’re all belly!”
“You haven’t gained a pound!”
“Are you sure you’re eating enough?”
“You look like you’re ready to pop!”

One of my closest friends shared a story that stuck with me. She was in her second trimester when a stranger asked if she was due that week. When she said no, the woman replied, “Wow, you’re going to be huge by then.” Can we not?

Honestly, I don’t have the bandwidth to unpack where this all comes from. It feels like one of those cultural onions with endless layers, and I just don’t have the energy to peel it apart. But I do know it’s hard to stay grounded when comments—no matter how “well-intentioned”—start to chip away at your peace. And that sensitivity? I know it comes from my own journey of learning to protect my energy and body over the years.

That said, these moments haven’t taken away from the deep pride I feel in what my body is doing. I’m in awe of how my body and baby are working together so intuitively. Every symptom, every change is a reminder of how powerful and wise this body is. And the love I’m already feeling—it’s the most profound, beautiful thing I’ve ever known…

Stay tuned for Part Three coming next Monday, June 23rd, at 8am EST.