Parenting is a journey filled with love, learning, and challenges. When your children have unique needs, that journey takes on a whole new depth.

As I’ve shared, the past several months have brought one obstacle after another. After finally getting through the legal battle and helping Courtney transition to a new school, I thought maybe—just maybe—things would slow down. But that wasn’t the case. Alyssa now needed are full attention.

Several weeks ago, I was watching TV while Alyssa was on FaceTime with a friend. I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard her say, “I don’t like that right now because I’m afraid it will go in my mouth and hurt me.” I wasn’t sure what “that” was, but her explanation sounded so mature for her age. Later, she mentioned her water bottle. When her friend asked where her Stanley cup was, Alyssa replied that she doesn’t use it anymore because she’s afraid germs will get in the straw.

How does a 9-year-old carry such intense thoughts and fears about germs and harm? My heart ached hearing those conversations.

At 9 years old, she should be worried about when her next playdate is—not how to eat finger food without touching it because her hands might be contaminated.

At 9 years old, she should be thinking about what game to play at recess—not whether a blade of grass might fling into her mouth and poison her.

At 9 years old, she should be having silly sibling arguments—not fearing her sister might be carrying one of her allergens.

At 9 years old, she should be running into my arms for comfort—not hesitating because she’s afraid I might be contaminated, too.

At 9 years old, she shouldn’t have to navigate the complexities of anxiety that a doctor now calls OCD-like behaviors.

It’s been a tough few months, filled with meetings with her psychiatrist, psychologist, therapists, and school team. But then something beautiful happened.

Two weekends ago, I watched my amazing 9-year-old enjoy a very belated birthday gift—a photoshoot with her friend titled “The Future is Female—Wicked.” And in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel like we truly defied gravity. Medicine is helping, therapy is helping, things are finally improving for my sweet girl. Her brain was playing some crazy tricks on her but now she is back. 

Alyssa, the road may be rocky. At times, it may feel scary. But you are strong, you are brilliant, and you are destined for great things. The future is yours.

Dance through life boldly, my girl—and know that I’ll always be here to help when you’re unsure of the next step.

(Photos by Novella Photography)