I used to be confident in my list of “never’s.”
Part 2 of 3
Never have kids. Never get tied down. Never allow chaos to dictate my life. That was me—strong-willed, self-assured, and happily on a path that avoided anything resembling unpredictability. But life? It has a remarkable way of taking our declarations and proving them wrong.
Before I knew it, I wasn’t just living in the chaos I swore off—I was thriving in it. I was raising my little one, P. And along the way, I found myself rewriting that list of “never’s” into something far more raw and real. This wasn’t the plan. But sometimes the greatest transformations happen when you least expect them.
From Overwhelm to Intentionality
Parenthood doesn’t come with a manual. One minute, you’re basking in the glow of a baby’s laughter, and the next, you’re battling opinions on why “green mush” isn’t an acceptable breakfast (or lunch, or dinner). For me, those early days felt uncharted—beautiful, yes, but relentlessly overwhelming.
It’s not just the picky eating or endless diaper changes. It’s the silent battles no one speaks about. Like the stifling isolation during a sleepless night, when the world outside your home feels so infinitely large while you’re tethered still. Or the way the clock seems to mock you as it insists on ticking forward, even though there’s still so much left undone. I felt like a ship lost at sea, trying to find a steady wind amidst the storm.
But here’s the thing about storms—they’re not just something to endure. They’re something to rise against.
Through every tantrum, missed deadline, or scheduling crisis that left me clinging to the frayed edges of control, I started to see moments of clarity. Small, subtle shifts where the chaos became… less daunting. These weren’t grand revelations but tiny, precious victories. They were reminders that I was stronger than I thought, maybe even meant to weather the storm.
Anchoring Amid Chaos
Parenting, I’ve learned, isn’t something you master. It’s something you survive—until you don’t just survive anymore. You start to anchor.
When a ship drops anchor, it finds stability, even when the waters aren’t calm. That’s what parenting began to look like for me. The noise didn’t stop, the schedule didn’t slow, and my toddler certainly didn’t wake up one day proclaiming, “I think I’ll be less opinionated about food today.” But I started to change—responding instead of reacting. I began to see those moments of chaos as building blocks rather than breaking points.
Anchoring didn’t mean controlling everything; it meant finding equilibrium in it all. Every spilled snack, every unexpected doctor’s appointment, and every preschool meltdown added another layer of resilience, one I didn’t know I was capable of having.
It didn’t happen overnight, of course. I fell, frequently and clumsily. Because anchoring isn’t about perfection—it’s about persistence.
From Chaos to Creativity
At some point, amidst the sleepless nights and scribbled to-do lists, I started writing. Not grand novels or intricate essays—but messy, honest reflections of the chaos swirling around me. Small moments that felt too precious or frustrating to keep bottled up, poured out onto paper.
What started as personal therapy became something more. Those words, raw as they were, began to feel like more than my own story. They were an unspoken language that connected me to others, to every parent navigating that same tightrope of exhaustion and joy.
And then came the pivot.
Instead of letting the chaos define me, I decided to transform it into something meaningful. My own scribbled reflections evolved into a tiny lifeline—not just for me, but for others in this messy, imperfect, beautiful world of parenthood. With every piece, I began to realize that sharing my vulnerabilities didn’t weaken me; it allowed me to stand stronger, alongside those who felt seen by them.
Turning “Never” into “Now”
I’m no stranger to stubborn declarations. I built my life on the foundation of things I never thought I’d do. And yet, I’ve spent the last several years deconstructing that foundation, one hard-fought “now” at a time.
Never have kids. And yet, here’s P, reminding me daily that love is the most unpredictable and extraordinary chaos one can invite into their life.
Never get tied down. And yet, I’ve learned that being grounded doesn’t mean being stuck; it means being present.
Never allow chaos to rule. And yet, it’s in the chaos that I’ve found the most profound lessons about strength, resilience, and love.
Every “never” became an opportunity— not just to prove myself wrong but to grow in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I’ve realized that the shift from “never” to “now” is about humility, tenacity, and a willingness to rewrite your own story.
How to Anchor in Your Own Life
If you’re standing in an overwhelming storm of your own, wondering how you’ll survive it, here’s what I’ve learned:
- Start Small
Anchoring doesn’t mean taking control of everything all at once. It means dropping that anchor, even in choppy waters, and holding on for stability. Find one small area of your life where you can take a breath—then build from there.
- Celebrate Tiny Wins
Progress rarely looks like a straight line. Sometimes it’s as simple as getting through a hard day or sitting down with a hot cup of coffee before the chaos starts. Name those victories—they matter more than you might think.
- Trust the Process
When you’re in the middle of navigating a storm, it’s easy to feel like you’re failing. But here’s the truth: growth happens in the mess. Trust that every imperfect moment is shaping you into someone stronger and more anchored.
- Share Your Chaos
You don’t have to do it alone. Whether you write it down, call a friend, or join a community of like-minded people, sharing your struggles can help you find clarity—and connection.
- Redefine ‘Never’ as ‘Not Yet’
Life has a funny way of surprising us. What feels impossible today might just become your greatest strength tomorrow. Stay open to the unexpected.
Finding Strength in the Chaos
Looking back, it’s funny to think how loudly I clung to my list of “never’s.” Because the life I resisted so fiercely—the one I swore I would never live—has turned out to be the most fulfilling and transformative one yet.
To every untethered parent, every overworked soul, and every person sitting in the overwhelming middle of their own mess—know this. You are stronger than you realize. And one day, you too might look back on your chaos, not with regret, but with gratitude for all the ways it anchored you into someone you never thought you could become.
Now, what’s on your list of “never’s”?
