Making Time for the Family (Even When You're Healing, Growing, and Losing Your Damn Mind)

So, here's the thing. "Making time for the family" used to sound like some Hallmark-ass advice I’d read in a parenting magazine while slowly disassociating at the pediatrician's office. Like, okay Susan, but what if my soul is currently being dragged through a cosmic carwash and I’m lowkey rebuilding my entire life from the inside out?

But now? It hits different. Because now I understand that making time for family isn’t about planning the perfect dinner or doing the Pinterest-perfect craft night. It’s about being present, raw, and real with the people who matter—even when your inner child is still throwing tantrums and your nervous system is stuck on “WTF.”

Presence Over Performance

I used to perform family time. Like, look at me! I’m smiling through the chaos! I’m cooking the meal! I’m planning the trip! But I was checked out—energetically, emotionally, spiritually. I didn’t even realize it until I started healing and got radically honest about how disconnected I’d become.

Now, when I “make time for the family,” I don’t just show up physically. I anchor. I ground. I remind myself: This moment is sacred. Even if we’re just folding laundry together. Even if it’s sitting in silence while my son plays a video game and I sip tea like a tired witch in a hoodie.

My Teachings, Applied IRL

Everything I teach—about shadow work, energy, healing, intuition, embodiment—applies to the way I parent. The way I grandparent. The way I show up in relationships.

Shadow work means noticing when my knee-jerk reaction to my kid is actually my wounded little girl trying to control things.
Nervous system healing means I breathe before I speak. Or sometimes? I say nothing. I just hug them. That’s the medicine.
Inner child integration means I let myself play too. I dance in the kitchen. I paint rocks with Willow. I wear glitter just because.
Embodiment means if I’m burnt out, I don't fake it. I communicate it. I model rest. I teach by being.

Because our kids, our people, our families—they don’t need us to be perfect. They need us to be real.

Legacy Ain’t Just for Rich Folks

We’re building emotional legacy over here. Energetic legacy. We’re breaking cycles while still laughing at dumb jokes. We’re healing generational trauma and passing down playlists and candle rituals and "remember when Grams went off on that Facebook post" stories.

This is what “making time for the family” means to me now:

Creating memories that are felt, not just photographed.
Letting them see me, not just the curated version.
Holding space for emotions at the dinner table.
Ditching perfection in favor of presence.

Even when I’m overwhelmed. Even when the shadow creeps in. Even when I feel like I’m failing. I come back to the truth: Being here is enough.

And if you're in your own dark night, your own shedding, your own sacred initiation into a new self—you still get to love and be loved through it.

So light the candle. Burn the toast. Laugh through the mess. And hold your people close—not just with your arms, but with your presence.

You're not just making time.

You're making healing contagious.

—
🖤 Brandi

Making time for the family