12 step

Fit Friturday: CTFO

The last two Fit Fridays, I have had to CTFO: Chill the F**k Out.

CTFO is a mantra in my anti-diet, pro-moderation, support group. It’s a veritable alphabet soup around there. Every weekend, members post photos and short posts of their DSS: Do-Something Saturdays, or their FF: Flex Fridays–sharing victories toward personal goals of movement and strength breaking free from the impossible standards of cultural beauty and fitness norms. We share NSVs (Non-scale victories) toward self-care, setting boundaries, meal-planning, taking up space. For those members who are on weight-loss or weight-gain journeys, there are SVs (scale victories). We ETF: Eat. The. Food. Freed (or progressively freeing) from the restriction and rules of disordered thinking, orthorexia, food-group restriction, and fad dieting of the culture around us.

And sometimes, we remind each other to Chill the Frick Out.

When do we CTFO? After an injury. When we’re sick. When we’re feeling the feels. When we feel guilty after a relapse of binge- or restrictive-behavior. When we feel judgement from friends, colleagues, or family members who make unwelcome commentary on our food or exercise choices.

I have a challenging class of students this year. One student in particular is taxing my mental game in a way that stretches me beyond my level of adeptness, and into the game of “Wow. What do I do here?” There have been money woes thrown in the mix, several (four, now, I think) deaths of colleague’s close family members within the first month of school, my roommate’s parents came to visit on their Farewell Tour before returning to New Guinea for four years, my roommate’s older son started school the same time I did (yay routine changes!).

So aside from my Monday silks class and Tuesday 12-Steps, I’ve been practicing CTFO during my evenings. And I’m using my weekends to get out of the house and connect with people; I don’t want to make my depression/isolation feedback loop, well, you know–feedback.That’s how I’m taking care of my body and mind right now. I don’t need to apologize for it or explain to people that “normally” I would be exercising more. I get out of my classroom during lunch or prep to walk a bit. And I think it’s time to add another day of upper body work, because silks has demonstrated I’m a veritable T-Rex… but I’m not going to kill myself trying.

This is what I need right now.

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Abuse, Forgiveness, and Casting Stones

Content note: sexual abuse, power, privilege, abuse in the news, abuse narratives

This is my third piece triggered by and simultaneously about and not about the most current sexual abuse scandal in the news. This topic grieves me and angers me. Even though I am not from the same faith tradition as the current focus du jour, I have seen this play out across Christian denominations. I have friends who have been abused and friends who have been sexually assaulted, and well meaning church people who have handled the information in ways that perpetuate abusive thinking and center the abuser rather than the victim.

In Abuse and the Use of Power, I wrote

Sexual abuse is not about sex. Sexual assault is not about sex. Talk to victims, survivors, crisis center professionals, the people working in this field. Sexual assault is about power; it is about the abuse of power, trust, and authority. And the kind of social inclusion that could possibly mitigate this kind of damage didn’t, because the victims and the perpetrator were embedded into the same exclusive, tightly knit group.

In Abuse and What Forgiveness Isn’t, I added

Forgiveness is not neat and tidy. But it is also not a transaction, or an automatic response to “I’m sorry.” If it is forced, required, or coerced, it becomes an extension of the original abuse. “Moving on” is an illusion that ignores real issues and maintains the power structures that facilitate abuses of authority.

One of the most disturbing trends I’ve seen in regard to sexual abuse, sexual assault, and the conversations surrounding it, is in the same vein as the forgiveness post. But I was so troubled by it I needed to write a whole separate essay and take a few extra days to process.

“A sin is a sin is a sin.”

I am not going to get into a theological discussion about the nature of sin, or why the Catholic tradition has mortal sins and venal sins, or the irony/hypocrisy of the evangelical church putting so much emphasis on sexual sins and purity as though fornication is the ultimate sin until one of their own men is in the spotlight for just that.

Sexual assault is a CRIME.

This is not just a conversation about sin and the church. This has implications beyond our physical church walls, or the arbitrary boundaries between denominations. Molesting children is against the law. Delicate language recasting it as a mistake, a misstep, an indiscretion, a sin is carefully dodging the consequences of acknowledging the criminal nature of sexual abuse.

My pastor is the executive director of a year-long, faith-based recovery home for women. The vast majority of the women who enter the program have broken the law, often multiple times. I have witnessed these women walk out incredible transformations in their lives. When they give their testimonies at the end of their program, they pull no punches as they share their old lives of addiction and pain. They don’t use soft language or try to dodge consequences. In fact, even as they acknowledge their forgiveness, part of their program is to fulfill all consequences, restitution, etc., that is part of their criminal sentences. But as they name it, they do so because it takes away the shame of secrecy, and establishes a habit of accepting the consequences of their actions.

By dismissing the serious, violating nature of sexual abuse by quipping, “A sin is a sin is a sin,” in a misguided invocation of forgiveness, bloggers and supporters of the perpetrator uphold the code of secrecy that allow perpetrators to escape the consequences of their crimes. And completely ignoring the victims.

“Let he among us without sin be the first to cast a stone.”

I read a really awful blog post, based on a really awful tweet, all based on a gross misuse of that concept. All hash-tagged with support to forgive the perpetrator.

I wrote on Thursday: it is not for any of us, the general public to forgive him. We were not wronged, molested, or abused by him. If we repeatedly avoid hard conversations about abuse, assault, and the systems that facilitate the molestation of children–all under the misguided call for “forgiveness”–these crimes will continue unabated and the bodies and lives of children and women will continue to be attacked.

Now, let me tell you what it can be like to be a female victim of a sexual crime in the church. Elizabeth Smart speaks about her captivity, and the lessons she learned about sex a la the “chewed gum” analogy  significantly impacted her perception of herself as a rape victim/survivor. When I attended church camp in middle school and high I went to a small-group lesson on boundaries in dating. We signed True Love Waits cards. I remember learning that once we passed boundaries there was “no going back,” and that it was my responsibility (as a female) to keep the physical side of the relationship in check. During college, a group of friends were talking when someone opened up that she had been raped freshman year. One well-meaning but misguided friend’s first instinct was to ask if her boyfriend knew she wasn’t a virgin.

This pervasive fixation is aimed at girls remaining pure. And in all those lessons I learned–directly and indirectly–there was no grace.

The full context of the casting stones verse involves a woman about to be stoned for adultery. She is about to become a victim of the male-dominated purity code. She is marginalized, just like every person for whom Jesus went to bat. When people trot this verse out, lacking context, in defense of an abuser, they miss the point entirely. When high-profile men lose positions of power and authority because of sexual abuse or sexual assault allegations, they are not victims. Their victims are victims.

On Thursday, I said I feel no nuance about standing on the side of the marginalized. These girls–now in their teens–don’t have hash tags or social media campaigns. But I’m guessing they have a lot of hurt and misunderstanding. Maybe they feel like chewed up gum. Maybe they only now understand the full extent of what happened to them as young children. Maybe they are horrified by the support offered to their abuser while they feel ignored or revictimized.

The church has done a terrible, terrible job of standing up for abuse victims/survivors/overcomers. It rushes “forgiveness” and “reconciliation” and centers the abusers instead of uplifting and surrounding the hurt and abused. Is it any wonder the rest of the country stares back, agog?

Abuse and What Forgiveness Isn’t

Content note: sexual abuse, power, privilege, abuse in the news, abuse narratives

Most of the blog posts I’ve read that defend a Christian accused of a sexual crime against another person (or persons) get the concept of forgiveness really, really wrong.

In Abuse and the Use of Power, I wrote briefly about the difficulty I experience writing about religion. I currently attend a Christian peace church that turns the mainstream idea of church hierarchy on its head, but I have attended and witnessed churches and church relationships that cause a great deal of hurt to individuals and groups. I am conscious of the contributions the church has made to historical and modern constructions of racism, misogyny and sexism, privilege, power, and the language and action of oppression. I have also seen the church participate in reconciliation and liberation.

It’s safe to say I have a complex relationship with the church. It’s full of wrestling and nuance, which is something that often gets lost as soon as tempers flare and parties start shouting past each other.

Granted, there are some things about which I feel no nuance. Deconstructing power. Sexual abuse. Standing on the side of the marginalized.

And in that vein, I have read some very troubling things over the last week. I am not going to link them, because page hits. Also because I ended up in a very angry rabbit hole last night following the push behind a specific blog post. It was ugly and confounding, and I decided not to go the route of a detailed illustration of the parallels between featuring a blog post on forgiving abusers while simultaneously featuring specific language that has been called out as being sexist and damaging… the more I dug into it the more I realized my emotional health couldn’t handle it. Especially not before bed.

Forgiveness.

Through the lens of power, here are my responses to points of conversation as I have read it to date, and what I assert has been missing from nearly every conversation involving a high-profile sexual assault:

“We should forgive him!” That is not within our power; forgiveness is not ours to give. Unless we are the target or victim or God Himself, it is not our responsibility to forgive.

“He confessed and apologized, so the victims need to forgive him.” There are many variations of “The perpetrator did X, so the victims should do Y,” and they are problematic. First, an apology is not an equation. It does not guarantee forgiveness. In my 12-Step group, when we reach Step 9 and make amends we do so with the full understanding that forgiveness may not be proffered in return. When my students get an apology, they say “Thank you;” I have taught them not to say “It’s okay.” Because usually it is not okay. Second, forgiveness cannot be demanded, required, or coerced as part of a conditional agreement or system. “He confessed and apologized, so the victims need to forgive him” is an expression of the exact same abuse of power and authority that manifested as the sexual assault. The hierarchy of perpetrator over victim remains in place, and the authority remains in hands of the assaulter.

“Move on.” A lot–and I mean a lot— of blogs and articles and opinion pieces have mentioned and paid lip service to the victims. The amount of ink they get compared to the perpetrator is a dismal ratio, and maybe that’s to ensure they’re privacy. Then again, maybe not. In this specific case, we’re told the victims got counseling. We don’t know what kind. We’re told they moved on. Or, we’re told they should move on. Empty cries to “move on” ignore very real issues that happen in churches and families around us. One woman wrote about her similar molestation, and that she was counseled (by a lay member of the church, a non-professional) that forgiveness was required, and that moving on was the only thing that would glorify God. And a five-year-old child cannot complete counseling. For one, counseling is an ongoing process. Furthermore, if a child cannot fully process what happened to her body, she cannot understand the implications of forgiving that sin against her. It’s distinctly possible that if/when she chooses to forgive her assailant, she will need to re-forgive him every time the memory of abuse reemerges as a power in her life. A victim/survivor of sexual abuse is the only person who can decide when she can move on, forgive, let go of some of the hurt. As far as us moving on? If we do not have real conversations about child sexual abuse, the systems that facilitate its commission, and the barriers to intervention, it will keep happening. We need to have conversations about how to best separate victims from their abusers, how to help victims recover and heal, and how to rehabilitate abusers so they do not abuse again.

Forgiveness is not neat and tidy. But it is also not a transaction, or an automatic response to “I’m sorry.” If it is forced, required, or coerced, it becomes an extension of the original abuse. “Moving on” is an illusion that ignores real issues and maintains the power structures that facilitate abuses of authority.

Under the Bus

I’m going to cut right to the chase, for the first time in the history of my overly verbose soul.

sComm press release:

sComm Co-Founder and CEO, Jason Curry Issues Statement Regarding Communication Options for Deaf, hard of Hearing, and Hearing

Raytown, MO, April 9, 2015: sComm today released a statement regarding their commitment of enhancing communication options for the deaf, hard of hearing and hearing.

As CEO and Co-Founder of sComm, I would like to reaffirm our commitment to enhancing the ability of deaf, hard of hearing, and hearing people to interact with each other freely without barriers. A heartfelt and sincere apology to both the deaf, hard of hearing, and interpreting community for unapproved posts made by one of our new media staff. We are taking steps to assure it won’t happen again. It was never our intention to offend anyone.

As a part of the deaf, hard of hearing, and hearing community, we are working to ensure that our overall philosophy is properly represented, both internally and externally. We advocate all communication options which utilize the use of VRS, VRI, on-site interpreters and in combination with communication devices like the UbiDuo to maximize communication and timely interaction for everyone. In our 10 years of experience in the communication device field, this combination of communication methods has generated overwhelming success stories from people who are deaf, hard of hearing, and hearing.

We support communication options to maximize communication freedom and to help everyone live a full and satisfying life.

Curry threw a new staffer under the bus. That’s bad PR and bad business. It’s also dishonest, since the “Communicaphobia” video (and the ableist “crippled” language used therein) dates from several years ago. Curry is responsible for that, and when he issued that press release, the video was still active.

Curry threw a staffer under the bus. I don’t condone the action, but I understand the instinct. The minute I read it, my counseling bells dinged. I don’t know Jason Curry. I don’t know his history, his family, his experiences. I do know the heart-stopping panic, the debilitating anxiety, the soul-crushing self-doubt that sets in when I am challenged. When something I believe to be right and true and correct is held up as wrong or incorrect. The depression that looms overhead the instant my eyes are opened to the stark reality that I completely, totally, and in all other ways royally screwed the pooch.

Something I’ve been tackling in counseling is my fear of authority figures, my fear of angry people, and my fear of personal criticism. I also isolate myself when I anticipate one of those things on the horizon. Watching this sComm situation unfold is like watching old Danielle in a tailspin. Criticism –> anger –> silence –> carefully constructed deflection.

It took a lot of energy to keep my brain fired up like that. It takes a lot of energy to for me to step back, breathe, and own my mistakes, too. But my attempts at Shut up and repent quickly seem to cut the cycle off a lot sooner, and it’s amazing how the anxiety and the fear and a doom lift when I just. stop. Stop denying. Stop deflecting. Stop casting blame. Stop making excuses, passing the buck, controlling the narrative. Put on the gosh darn brakes and for the love of mother do not run over whomever it was I just threw under that bus.

Sometimes in business, in activism, in feminism, in relationships, in ally-ship, in recovery… in life… 

just. stop.

Fit Friday: I am Not Broken (part 3 in series)

Content note: body image, body shame, disordered eating, diet & exercise

Purpose: This series has been a long time percolating in my mind. It has taken me a year to decide to write. The writing process has taken days. I think this will become an important resource for future #FitFriday posts as I continue to examine the messages students of all ages internalize about women, diet, nutrition, and fitness, and how it can severely and negatively influence their lives indefinitely.

In which I expound on why I quit BeachBody’s 21-Day Fix program (because it perpetuates disordered thinking and unattainable, unsustainable ideals)

Click here for Reasons 1 & 2
Click here for Reason 3

Reason 4: The Make-Me-Hate-Myself Workouts

The first part of Reason 4 is connects back to Reason 1: Untrained Personnel. The workouts were high-intensity intervals. The risk with any DVD program is the lack of feedback on form. It is quite easy to do a squat or a lunge improperly; it becomes easier when one is fatigued from doing multiple intervals of challenging, high-intensity reps. This is not a problem unique to this BeachBody program, or to BeachBody workouts. However, the proliferation of their brand of extreme fitness–Insanity, P90X, etc.–and the risk of injury or long-term physical damage from improper form on high-intensity intervals is concerning. And with no rest days, the body has no time to repair itself.

My second concern was the lack of body diversity shown in the videos and the objectification of women’s bodies. The workout videos showed people who were already fit doing the workouts, with the exception of the woman demonstrating the modification. In TV trope language, she was the “token fat friend.” The trainer used different word choices and tone with her. She wore workout clothes that hid the outline of her body, when the other women wore tight and/or cropped clothes that drew attention to their abdominal muscles or upper arms. It’s the opposite of what we see on The Biggest Loser, but it stems from the same place of fat shaming. Former contestant Kai Hibbard has been outspoken about how damaging her time on TBL was, asking in a January article on xoJane, Why wasn’t I allowed to have a shirt instead of just a sports bra until I lost weight? The message is this: It is important what my body looks like, only certain bodies deserve to be looked at, and all other bodies deserve shame.

Most of the people in the “support” group were never going to look like the ripped trainer or the enthusiastic coaches hawking this program all over Facebook. I’m going to cover the specifics of the body shame in another post, but I’ll say right now that not many women in the support group were proud of their bodies, happy with their bodies, or even content with their bodies. They wanted the ripped look, and these workouts promised that. Every person in the videos was ripped and toned and sexy, after all. During the third week, the half-hour Hate Myself Workouts became two-a-day Hate Myself Workouts. And there were many who jumped right into their second or third round of the 21-Day Fix without any rest or break in between, often dropping down to a lower calorie bracket to boost their results.

I found the use of gendered language in the DVDs troubling. The trainer in the video, Autumn Calabrese (whose website I will not be linking), ribbed and teased men in the video for using girly weights, even though she previously encouraged others to make modifications as necessary. This is problematic for so. many. reasons. Smaller weights are smaller. That does not make them feminine (and even if it did, feminine does not equal inferior). It just means they weigh less. Using them does not make one more or less feminine or masculine, or inferior or superior; it just means one is using less weight. And sending mixed signals about whether or not it is okay to modify a workout is a subtle form of psychological bullying that may lead to the at-home exerciser to push herself harder than her body is telling her she should.

My final problem with the workouts is right in the title of the program: The 21-Day Fix. I do not need to be fixed because I am not broken. My body is not broken. Telling women their bodies are already beautiful doesn’t make money, but promising 15 pounds in 21 days does. The workouts are called things like Upper Body Fix and Lower Body Fix, playing on the idea that women have “problem areas” that we are always trying to mask or fix, and perpetuating the myth of “spot reduction.” And because the workouts were so varied and all over the place (thanks to BeachBody’s company-wide obsession with the P90X cornerstone of “muscle confusion”)**, I never felt like I was improving my performance. The only way to track my progress was by tracking my weight and my inches. I hate both of those things. They remind me that as a woman, I am supposed to always be trying to take up less space. And losing weight and inches is not sustainable; at some point my losses will level out. How can I track my progress then? How will I know if I’m taking up a small enough space?

The Alternative:

The anti-diet group celebrates Non-Scale Victories. We take up space. We take pictures of ourselves taking up space. We celebrate ourselves taking up space. We celebrate our bodies doing things.

We exercise. Some of my fellow non-dieters do CrossFit, some cycle, some run. Some birth babies and feed babies and raise babies. I skate and chase children and walk. I used to lift and run. The group is home to thin women and fat women and strong women and anti-fragile women and quite a few men, too. We celebrate how we look, not because we have bikini-model “after” pictures, but because we look amazing and beautiful and strong exactly the way we are today, right now.


Our bodies have outlines that do not need to be hidden. We eat the food. We wear the clothing we want to wear now, not when when we reach our target weight and fit back into our favorite jeans. We take up space, unapologetically. We will no longer be shrinking women. And my #FitFriday wish is that my students take up space now and take up space in the future, loudly and unapologetically.

Lily Myers – “Shrinking Women” (CUPSI 2013)

**I did not link to any articles debunking the claims of “muscle confusion” because they were all on websites with horrible, sexist, objectifying advertising.

Resource Post: In Preparation for a Fit Friday Series

This week is National Eating Disorders Awareness week. As such, this week I will begin a multi-week series on why I quit a BeachBody fitness and diet program, as part of the larger story of bodyfoodhealthstuff, and the alternative approach I have taken since leaving the land of restriction and obsession.

I’ve had to stretch out the series into a series in part because I am not the most concise of writers. I have stretched it out to make sure I give enough attention to the many reasons I found that community to be not just a poor fit for me, but to be actively damaging for me and a number of other women. I have stretched it out because it is hard work digging into some of this. I have stretched it out because this culture of internalized shame, moralizing about food and exercise, and fear of our natural bodies is so deeply ingrained that it takes a careful hand to excise it, and I am not so sure my hand is careful enough.

Below are a number of websites and resources I read and share. I will return to this post to add more resources over the coming months.

  • Beauty Redefined is “all about rethinking our ideas of ‘beautiful’ and ‘healthy’ that we’ve likely learned from for-profit media that thrives off female insecurity.” Their Facebook page and blog are excellent sources for well-researched articles and discussion.
  • Dr. Yoni Freedhoff is the founder of Ottawa’s non-surgical Bariatric Medical Institute – a multi-disciplinary, ethical, evidence-based nutrition and weight management centre. He advocates sustainable changes to diet and sustainable exercise for long-term weight management. He frequently reviews diet books and fad diets and doesn’t pull punches on the ones that offer little more than recipes for disaster. His blog and Facebook are great.
  • Two Facebook pages that take a different angle to sharing fitness articles, especially in regards to the myth that women of size are not healthy women: Fit is a Feminist Issue and Fit and Feminist
  • And the one that started it all for me: Pigtail Pals & Ballcap Buddies. From the blog: “Using our blog, parent community, critically acclaimed book, and online shop we create meaningful change by educating people on media literacy and how marketing, sexualization, gender stereotypes, and body image impact childhood.” The Facebook page is an amazing community for discussion and sharing. This is where I got my mantra Colors are for everyone.

The Boundary with Problems (Part 2)

I’m a Twelve Stepper.

I’m not going to share my whole story, but I’m not going to pretend unhealthy thought patterns and codependency only affect my personal relationships. Problems with boundaries, responsibility, and authority bleed into my professional relationships, too. Right before my divorce, I said to my friend-and-now-sponsor It’s like every argument I have with my husband is a parallel of a fight I had with my mother.

I started attending meetings that week.

I’ve worked on replacing a lot of my scripts: I do not engage in body talk. I am not playing that game any more. Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.

One of my hardest tasks has been setting boundaries. I think this will be true forever, because there are so many boundaries to be set. The boundary between home and work and home is one that I have set and reset. This is not unique among teachers; it’s a quality many of us share. Honestly, the willingness to break that boundary (at least in regards to bringing work into our home lives) is held up as a quality of an exemplary teacher. It means we go above and beyond. We go the extra mile. We show unwavering dedication to our students.

Also, we burn out.

There is another kind of boundary I want to discuss today. The one between my students’ parents and me.

I know far too many teachers who are codependent. Codependent relationships are a type of dysfunctional helping relationship where one person supports or enables another person’s addiction, poor mental health, immaturity, irresponsibility, or under-achievement (source). We think we’re helping. Helping is what we do; it’s why we became teachers. If we can help parents while we help their children, all the better, right?

This is in the front of my mind right now, in part because I am taking a course on parental engagement in schools. The dominant paradigm for parental involvement is heavily school-centered–the school plans the activities, invites the parents, and decides what constitutes adequate involvement. This paradigm needs to change if we genuinely want to improve and transform our schools; it is critical to change the boundary between parent and teacher. This kind of transformation involves deconstructing the power hierarchy between school and home. It requires seeing parents and teachers as equal allies in a community of change. It’s about empowering parents and families. It requires the opposite of a codependent relationship. 

Home visits can be a part of a powerful school program. It can be included in the conversation when we talk about teaching the whole child. In my field of deaf education, it is a critical component of helping parents understand their child’s hearing loss. It is instrumental in demonstrating language-modeling activities and coaching parents in how to include a deaf or hard-of-hearing child in daily activities like baking or doing the laundry.

Phone conversations have long been part of my repertoire of parental engagement techniques. Also meetings and conversations with parents and PSR (psychosocial rehabilitation) counselors. Some of my most successful brainstorming sessions happened during my first two years of teaching with a parent and a student’s PSR worker. We saw each other as partners, we respected each other’s experience and expertise, and we honored each other’s contributions to the conversation. We tackled some pretty uncomfortable situations together. It was helpful to be part of a team.

In the same environment, with the same teacher (me), but with a different parent, home visits, phone calls, and meetings can become unhealthy very quickly. I have been asked and/or expected to cross my personal boundaries in several incidents. I had typed them out, but I decided against posting them. I am honestly not sure how much I can or should divulge, even though it would be anonymous. The Readers’ Digest version: I used to make any and every attempt to do whatever was needed for my students to show up and be successful in school. Now I see that by over-helping, I was disempowering the parents, and that some of those things could garner me a screen credit under the title Enabler. It makes me very uncomfortable, as I now understand it runs contrary to the work I’ve been doing in ACA; one of the characteristics of Adult Children is that we have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and it is easier for us to be concerned with others rather than ourselves. It makes me uncomfortable because I now understand that I was reinforcing power hierarchies, which is the opposite of what I want to do with my graduate program.

Part of doing recovery is anonymity; I get that. So is being in recovery like having an invisible disability, similar to my migraines? I don’t know. I imagine there are people with opinions on both sides of that question. Do I have a right to ask for accommodations or considerations in regards to my recovery? Can I tell a supervisor that I need to maintain boundaries, even though I used to be willing to cross them?

If I draw the line and refuse to enter into a codependent dynamic, or in some cases, choose to scale back a relationship to eliminate codependency, I may very well be viewed as no longer going above and beyond. My evaluation may look less shiny if my supervisor decides that I am no longer performing satisfactorily in the area of parent involvement.

So where is the line? Where is my boundary with parents who have mental health diagnoses that impact their parenting? Where does my influence end?

How can I teach the whole child if it means not caring for the whole me?

Photo description: A close-up photo of a pencil tip drawing a straight line on a white backdrop.