EP. 9. If Only They Knew Our Story!

This Mother’s Day month, we’re reflecting on love, resilience, and the people who have shaped us in ways we don’t always see. In this episode of Healing Out Loud: Boundaries and Becoming, I share stories of laughter, lessons, and growth — and the quiet strength of someone who has always shown up, even in life’s hardest moments.

Through memories, humor, and reflection, we honor the bonds that teach us how to love, how to heal, and how to become. At its heart, this episode is a tribute to someone very special — my mom, my guide, my cheerleader… and yes, my little friend. 🎙️💖

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:00

In three, two, one. Welcome back to Healing Out Loud, Boundaries and Becoming, where we stop pretending and start healing for real. It's your girl, your favorite host, Kayla. And welcome, my beautiful people and my fellow overthinkers. You are all truly a part of this family. Now let's talk about boundaries, becoming, and everything it takes to live this life out loud. Alright, so you guys already know this space is about growth, it's about boundaries, and it's about evolving into who we're meant to be out loud, unapologetically, and with intention. But on today, I want to get personal because today is a celebration. This episode is going to be for the woman who gave me life, she gave me resilience, and now she gives me pep talks that sound like TED Talks, mixed with some girl stand up. Y'all is officially my mom's birthday month, and it's also Mother Day season. Now, let me tell y'all, having to do this episode without my mom knowing about it has been the hardest thing. So I'm so so glad that I'm able to do this and I'm able to have this opportunity to honor my mother because I couldn't let this moment pass without honoring not just my mother, but one of my real life best friends. And when I say best friend, I mean the kind where we empower each other. The kind where she checks me respectfully, and I check her back sometimes, and the kind where we can go from a deep life conversation to laughing so hard that we forgot what we were even arguing about. Guys, we've truly built a relationship that's rooted in love, strengthened by honesty, and seasoned with humor. And I promise y'all, I don't take it lightly. Because what makes it even more powerful is my mom's life hasn't been easy on her at all. If you know, you know. And if you don't, stay tuned and listen. Even though it's been hard on her, yet she still shows up strong. She still shows up loving, she still shows up for me and my brother, like it's her greatest assignment. And if you know her, you know she don't play about me and Daris at all. Okay, don't talk about her kids. So on today, we're celebrating resilience, we're celebrating evolution, we're celebrating what it looks like when motherhood grows into friendship, when authority grows into partnership, and when because I said so turns into okay, let's talk about it. This one's special, so let's get right into it. Now, when I think about my mom, one word that always comes to mind is consistent. Not perfect, not superhuman, not untouched by life, consistent. She has always been there for me. And not just in like the highlight moments, you know, not just birthdays and graduations and look at my child shining moments, but in the regular days, the confusing days, the I don't know who I am right nowadays, she has been my steady. And what makes it even more powerful is what she's carried while still carrying us. Like I've told y'all before, I've lost my dad, which was her husband, and she's lost her parents. She has experienced grief in layers, and I've had to watch her navigate loss while still choosing to show up, still choosing to answer the phone, still choosing to check on me and my brother, still choosing to laugh, and still choosing to love loudly. Now, that kind of strength isn't loud all the time. You know, sometimes it looks like cooking dinner when you don't feel like it, or it can look like sending a did you eat text. And if you're a child, you love those kind of text messages. And sometimes it looks like praying for your children while your own heart is healing. And I've realized something that I've, you know, as getting older, her showing up wasn't accidental, it was intentional. She made a decision over and over again that her grief would not steal her ability to love us well. And that has shaped me in ways I'm still discovering. Now, somewhere along the way, our relationship shifted. And I don't even know if there was a specific day it happened. You know, there wasn't some big announcements like, congratulations, you best friend mode. Guys, it was gradual. Because let's be honest, if you grew up like I did, you know there was definitely a season where your mom would look you dead in your eyes and tell you, hey, I'm not one of your little friends. And best believe she meant it. The tone, the look, that you know, steady pause after you knew that conversation was over. And now we're outside together, laughing in public, having real life conversations about life and growth. And somehow, without ever planning it, guys, wherever we go out, we always end up wearing the same color or the same pattern, you know, the same vibe. I mean, there's no phone call about it, no what are you wearing text? We just show up coordinated, and every single time we look at each other like, of course. I mean, when you look at in my closet, guys, it's unspoken, it's natural, it's alignment. And that evolution didn't happen by accident. It happened because we grew. As I became a woman, not just her daughter, she allowed space for that. She didn't try to keep me small, she didn't hold authority over my identity. She respected my voice, she respected my boundaries, and she respected my becoming. Now, when we go out in public, people are always like, Wait, are y'all related? Are y'all sisters? Y'all look just alike. And without missing a beat, I always say, Oh, I'm actually the parent. And now it's like our little running joke that I'm raising her. I mean, how many of us are raising our parents, honestly? It's okay. But meanwhile, she still reminds me who actually raised who. But what I love about this is we genuinely enjoy each other, being around each other. You know, there's laughter, there's death, there's accountability, there's empowerment in both directions. She'll call me out when I'm shrinking, and I'll remind her who she is when she forgets. And we've built something mutual. And there is something powerful about looking at your mom one day and realizing I don't just love you because you're my mother. I like you, I respect you, and I admire you. And yes, now you're one of my little friends. Now, as much as we laugh, and as much as we've grown into this friendship, there's another layer to my mom that deserves to be honored. And it's her strength and grief. Guys, if you know the story, you know. My mom has experienced deep loss. Like I said, her husband, her parents. And grief like that doesn't just visit, it rearranges your life. You know, I'll never forget the first time I truly saw her strength. Like I said, I was 10 years old when my dad passed. The moment I remember most was watching my mom have to tell her 10-year-old little daughter that her father was gone. I mean, out of everyone in the room, she was the one who sat with me. She held me through my tears, and she pushed aside her own grief and simply was just there, present, loving, steady. And that moment left an imprint on me. It was the first time I realized what strength actually looks like. Not shouting, not hiding, not moving on fast, but showing up fully for someone else, even when your own heart is breaking. And about 10 years later, you know, her parents passed. I was in my 20s, and my relationship with my mom was starting to feel like what it is now, built on honesty, respect, and friendship. But the day her mom passed, I can remember my mom saying constantly, I can't do this. I don't know what to do. And in that moment, I looked at my mom, I grabbed her, and I said, I got you. I held her through her grief just like she held me years before. And in that instant, I felt us grow even closer. Our bond deepening in a way words can't fully capture. You know, people often say, I wish my kids had a relationship like y'all. And I just smile because if only they knew our story. The layers of grief, of strength, of love, of choosing each other over and over. That's how our bond was built. And what I learned from watching her navigate through losses is this strength isn't pretending you're okay. Strength is feeling everything, but you're still choosing love. Strength is grieving and parenting at the same time. Strength is bending under life's weight without breaking, and strength is being present even when your heart aches. She modeled resilience without ever calling it that. She modeled love without expecting perfection in return. And she shaped how I understand my own becoming. Because becoming isn't just growth when life is easy, becoming is who you choose to be when life takes something from you. And she chose love every single time. Now, watching my mom show up through grief, love, and laugh, it taught me a lot. But one of the biggest lessons: boundaries aren't walls. Boundaries are love, boundaries are self-respect, and boundaries are the way we protect the spaces where growth happens. She showed up for me in so many ways. I mean, by caring for me while grieving, she taught me that you can hold space for others without losing yourself. By trusting me to speak my mind and grow. She taught me that love doesn't require control. By being honest about her own limits, she taught me that saying, I need a minute, or this is too much isn't weakness. It's strength. And watching her taught me that becoming isn't a solo journey, it's a shared one. We become who we are while in a relationship with others, especially those who love us well. Her strength taught me how to set healthy boundaries with compassion, how to show up fully without burning out, and how to give love in ways that empower rather than enable. It also taught me how to have grace with myself. Because if I can witness her holding herself together through unimaginable loss and still love fully, then I know I can navigate my own hard seasons. I can step into my own power. I can become who I've meant to be without guilt, shame, or fear. And our friendship also gives us a space to coach each other. She's the more forgiving one, okay? If you know, you know. She'll keep giving someone chance after chance. But me, as quote unquote everyone likes to say, I'm the mean one. I'm the one who would just cut you off in a drop of a hat, okay? So sometimes she'll turn to me and say, Caleb, you have to give them a chance. Or did you at least hear the person out? And I always respond with my signature energy, you know, I don't care. Cut them off. Or sometimes I say, they should have thought about it before they tried me. You know, it's funny, it's real, it's growth and action. And that's what our relationship is really built on mutual growth. She lifts me up, challenges me, and inspires me every single day. And I hope that through my own becoming, I get to reflect that same love back to her. In the way we talk, the way we laugh, and the way we show up for each other. Because boundaries, growth, and love aren't just words, they're lived experiences. And she's living proof of what it looks like to do them so well. Now, before we close today, I want to do something I do in every episode: a little exercise that helps us put healing into action. And since it's Mother's Day month, I want to invite you to take a moment to honor your mom or any mother figure in your life. You know, this isn't about perfection, it isn't about some social media post or Hallmark card. It's about reflection, connection, and acknowledgement. So here's what I want you to do. Remember, first let's take a deep breath, okay? In, then out. Close your eyes if you can and feel your body, feel the space around you. Alright, now when you're ready, I want you to think of a memory or quality of your mom or mother figure that shaped you. You know, maybe it's her resilience, like my mom showed me through grief. Maybe it's her humor, her advice, her patience, or even the way she challenged you. But think of that memory. And now I want you to write it down. It can be one sentence, it can be a paragraph, or it can just be a few words. But friend, whatever comes to you, like for example, my mom has always believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Or, you know, she taught me how to laugh at myself. But write that memory down. And now, friend, say it out loud, or to yourself if that feels better. But I want you to honor it, acknowledge it, and celebrate it. And now this last step is optional, but I hope that you do it. But if you feel safe, share it with her. You can send a text, a note, or even just a phone call, but let her know you see her. Now, friend, take a moment to sit with what you came up with. Notice how it feels to actually name the ways she shaped you. Notice if gratitude brings a warmth, a smile, or maybe even some tears. Happy tears though. Notice if it brings a sense of pride in her, in yourself, in the connection you guys shared. You know, this is a practice in honoring, but it's also in acknowledging your own growth. Because when we reflect on the people who raised us, you know, the people who shaped our values, our resilience, our sense of humor, or our ability to love, we start to see the ways that legacy lives in us. It reminds us that strength, compassion, laughter, and love are gifts passed down. It reminds us that we carry pieces of them wherever we go. It reminds us that even in moments of distance or imperfection, the love and lessons remain. And here's the thing: honoring them doesn't mean you have to be perfect. It doesn't mean the relationship has to be flawless. It just means you're noticing, you're appreciating, and you're allowing their presence, past or present, to influence the way you show up in this world. So, friend, take that moment, sit in it, feel it, and if you can, let it ripple outward. Let it ripple to how you love yourself, how you show up for others, how you create space for growth and laughter and honesty in your own life. This simple reflection can shift the energy in your heart. It can remind you of the roots, your strength, and your capacity to both receive and grieve love. And that, my friends, is what healing out loud is all about. Showing up, acknowledging the journey, and stepping into your own becoming. Out loud, fully, and most importantly, unapologetically. Now, as we wrap up today's episode, I want to take a moment to honor the woman at the heart of this story, which is my mom, my super woman in my life, okay? And mom, I know you're missing it, because let me tell y'all something. She's my number one fan in anything I do. But, mom, this is for you. You've been my rock, my cheerleader, my coach, my safe place, and now my best friend. You've shown me what it means to be resilient, compassionate, loving, and unapologetically yourself. You've carried grief that would have broken so many, yet you still found the strength to show up for me and my brother, and to laugh, to love, and to guide us along the way. You've taught me lessons without ever calling them lessons. You know how to love fully, how to set boundaries with grace, how to forgive and hold people accountable, and how to find joy even in the hardest moments. You've coached me gently, firmly, and sometimes hilarious, but you coached me to give people chances, to hear them out, to balance love with protection. And yes, I've reminded you when you needed to be a little firmer, though you never admit it, but you've been my mirror, my capacity, my cheer squad, and my whole entire heart. And here's the thing the world sees your strength, your humor, your love, your grace, and so do I. People always say, I wish my kids had a relationship like y'all, and I smile because if only they knew our story, the grief, the growth, the laughter, the inside jokes, the coordinated outfits we didn't plan, and the moments where we just showed up for each other, they understand. So, mom, thank you. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your presence. Thank you for teaching me how to love, how to heal, how to grow, and how to become. And guys, that's her right now sending text messages, so I gotta hurry this up. But mom, happy birthday, happy Mother's Day, and yes, you are my little friend. And yes, to everyone listening, I am the parent because that's how our story works. Love, laughter, growth, and a little bit of chaos all rolled into one beautiful relationship. And to everyone listening, may you take a moment this month to honor the moms, mother figures, and mentors in your life, celebrate them, laugh with them, learn from them, and let their strength remind you of your own. Because love, resilience, friendship, and becoming they're contagious. And today we celebrate that out loud. And say it with me, guys. That's growth, baby. Guys, that's a wrap for today. Thank you for showing up for your messy, beautiful, real self and for willing to do the work it takes to heal. And make sure you continue to follow the show wherever you listen. And if the episode spoke to your heart, please share it with someone who might need a reminder that they're not alone in this. And someone who might just need a little laugh and a little healing. I'm so excited to continue our healing journey. And until then, take care of your energy, protect your peace, and remember, becoming might be messy, but it's also beautiful. And happy Mother's Day and happy birthday to one of the greatest, actually the greatest mothers out there, my mom. You've been listening to Healing Out Loud, Boundaries and Becoming, keep healing, keep becoming, and keep laughing when life gets messy out loud. It's your girl, your host, Kayla, who will always do what the most.

SPEAKER_00 21:05

Signing off and until next time, and then we're gonna be able to get away from the same thing.