I remember one moment in particular that taught me more about parenting than any book ever could.
My middle son was around six. He’d been gaming for hours and had skipped lunch. By mid-afternoon, he was spiralling. Hungry, dysregulated, and completely overwhelmed. He started screaming at me to make him food. Yelling that I’d promised to help him beat a level in his game (which I knew I hadn’t, and wouldn’t have even known how to do), but I let him have his experience without correcting him.
I knew it wasn’t just about the food. I knew he was very capable of making food for himself, and there was something deeper at play here. I was usually very generous in making food for him, but in this instance I could feel something more was surfacing. So instead of jumping to act on the demand, I chose to witness him with an open heart. I chose to stay in command of myself , to generate peace within, no matter what. I knew this was a pivotal moment, one that could either heal or harm. In the past, I’d reacted and caused harm. But I’d also reflected, learned, and made a commitment to show up differently when next time came.
Next time was here. And I held space.
He kept yelling.
He started throwing toys off the veranda.
At that time, I was still with their Dad, who walked out and started speaking in a harsh tone, threatening consequences if anything broke. In that moment, something fierce rose within me and I clearly motioned for him to get out. I’ve got this.
Our son didn’t need interference.
He didn’t need control.
He needed trust, presence, and neutrality.
This is what transformational parenting is to me. It’s not about avoiding or suppressing our kids’ strong emotions. It’s about welcoming them; lovingly, and without fear. Their intensity isn’t something to be fixed. It’s something to be witnessed. If we can stay grounded in the storm, we become the stable nervous system they need in order to learn how to hold themselves.
I knew what was happening.
I knew how to hold it.
I knew that if his dad stayed, it would escalate.
And thankfully, to his credit, he trusted me and left us to it.
I stayed grounded.
I didn’t try to fix or control.
I trusted my son.
Trusted that what needed to come out, needed to come out.
Trusted that what he was throwing wasn’t truly harmful.
And even if it broke, it wasn’t more important than what he was moving through, and we would find a mutual solution later to rectify any damages.
He raged for 45 minutes.
Screamed. Blamed. Fell apart.
And I let him.
Of course, there are boundaries. I don’t allow my kids to hurt others or destroy things that belong to someone else. But if it’s their own stuff, I let it break. And then I hold them through the consequences afterward. I’ve even physically held my children while they were raging and in danger of hurting others. I held them not from anger, but from deep calm. So they could feel: “You’re not bad. It’s just not okay to harm another when you’re angry”. That distinction is important.
At one point, his older brother who was eight at the time, offered to go to the shop with his own pocket money to buy him a pie. And it wasn’t the pie that changed things. It was the timing.
My eldest felt the rage softening in his younger brother and wanted to support him. No fixing. Just love.
Within minutes, my middle son was quiet.
Calm.
Whilst my eldest was riding his bike to the shops, my beautiful six year old walked outside, picked up every toy he’d thrown, and returned them to their places. Nothing was broken. No forced apology. No forced resolution. Just a natural return to himself, held in total presence, love, and acceptance.
He picked up the toys not because I asked him to, but because once he felt clear again, he wanted to. He’d already learned that after a breakdown comes a breakthrough, and with that comes taking responsibility for the impact. He learned this through my role modelling and gentle guidance in similar situations with him and his brothers.
He didn’t need to be corrected.
He needed to be trusted, so he could learn to trust himself.
That is what I want to pass on to my children. Not perfection, but a deep sense of welcome. A knowing that all of them (all of us), can be held, even in our hardest moments.
Of course, this kind of moment doesn’t always unfold so seamlessly. In families where deep trust hasn’t yet been built, or where there’s a backlog of unprocessed emotion, it may take longer. My coaching goes into more detail on this, but I want to name that the ease of this moment came through years of inner work. Mostly in repairing and learning through the harder parenting moments I’d had with my eldest.
With my middle son, trust was already strong. But if it hadn’t been, this moment would have looked different.
I probably would’ve sat outside with the toys, just calmly being there. Not waiting for him, but being available to him. I wouldn’t have forced him to stay with me, and he would’ve been free to continue on with his day. This isn’t about control. It’s about creating openings for reconnection and the possibility of self-responsibility.
And when he came to me, as he eventually would, whether to ask for help or just be near me, I would have placed this moment above all else. There have been times I’ve cancelled commitments to prioritise this kind of learning. Not always, but when it felt most aligned, I did. Because this is where it happens: the real teaching, the real trust-building.
I imagine I might’ve said something like, “I really want to help you with that. And it’s important to me that we first clean up the toys. Not as a punishment, but so you can learn to take responsibility for cleaning up the mess caused by an meltdown.”
This part matters. The intention matters. This isn’t about making them wrong or forcing compliance. It’s about empowering them to take responsibility in a way that feels safe, connected and even playful. You’re right there with them. Not shaming, not controlling, but standing beside them, as their ally, to help them pick up the pieces. This particular son of mine is now twenty years old and creating an epic life for himself, and he still calls me occasionally to help pick up the pieces. And it’s such an honour.
And as I continue to transform, I continue to witness and support their transformation too.
My babies are my greatest teachers.
This transformation is ongoing.
It’s fuelled by the fierce, primal love that only a mother knows.
By the knowing that how I love myself is how they learn to love themselves.
This moves me from old patterns of self-loathing, fear, and blame –
to radical responsibility, love, and presence.
Parenting is, and always has been, my deepest spiritual path.
The intensity of the love, the rawness of the fear, the heartbreak, the mundane, the magic… this is the alchemy.
This journey isn’t perfect, but it’s not all shadow work and sobbing either!
These days, I get to hang out with my kids, laugh with them, eat delicious food together, go for walks, listen to music with them and have long, meandering conversations. And honestly? Just being in their presence cracks my heart open to a deeper love. And that’s been the fuel that’s carried me through the hard bits.
And no, I didn’t have a lot of resources.
I chose to be with them. I chose a path that didn’t come with financial security or external validation.
I didn’t have much money. I didn’t have a formal support system.
I had time.
I had my intuition.
I had devotion.
And I was willing to face myself, over and over again.
That was the resource.
That’s what made the difference.
I don’t share this to say do what I did.
I share it because I want every parent to know:
It’s possible.
Not easy.
Not perfect.
But absolutely possible to create a peaceful and empowered connection with your kids.
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