I Want to Be A Mom. Period.

Confessions of a former "Girlboss" turned Jungle Mama

We got another call from school the other day… about Kai. Nothing too alarming or out of the ordinary, the teacher assured me. Perfectly normal nine-year-old boy behavior. But it was a pattern. One we’d already seen at home. So I wasn’t shocked—but I was stirred.

Kai was still at school when the call came in. As soon as I hung up, I went full 90s Mama Mode—high bun energy, pacing the house, muttering under my breath, ready to blame everything and everyone, especially myself. “Why is he like this?” I demanded, as if his actions were a direct reflection of my mothering.

I called on spiritual guidance. I asked ChatGPT what to do (you think I’m kidding, but I’m not). I texted a friend for advice on how to talk to him.

An hour passed. My heart was racing. And then, I had an “ah-ha” moment that changed everything.

I remembered what I’d been reading in Positive Discipline: There’s no such thing as a bad child. Not even bad behavior, really. When a child makes choices that aren’t for the greater good, it’s usually not rebellion. It’s disconnection.

Our children communicate unmet needs through behavior. And more often than not, those unmet needs boil down to one thing: a lack of connection or a sense of not belonging.

Before that moment, I had gone through every possible angle. This wasn’t modeled behavior—Ben and I have our flaws, but this particular pattern wasn’t one of them. So why was Kai acting out?

And then it clicked. My heart broke in the most necessary way.

He felt disconnected.

Maybe at school, sure… that happens. But what gutted me was the realization that he must also feel disconnected at home. And that? That was on me.

Here’s the thing about parenting: just because you’re giving all your children the same amount of time and attention doesn’t mean they’re all getting what they need. Every child is wired differently. Every child speaks a different language of connection. If one is acting out, it’s not because they’re wrong. It’s because they’re reaching for something they genuinely need in order to feel safe, regulated, loved, and connected.

It would have been easier to focus on helping Kai feel more connected at school—to fix the symptom, not the root. But the truth was, Ben and I had to take a long look in the mirror.

You see, we live in this magical eco-village where the kids run wild and free, as if it were some sun-drenched Bali version of the 1970s. Barefoot jungle life. Chickens clucking in the distance. Children constantly running in, out, and through the house. It’s a style of living I never knew I needed… Community is the way, honey. I’m telling you… But I’m coming to understand that even paradise and magical living conditions need boundaries.

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We don’t punish our children. We believe punishment teaches shame, not responsibility. But we do offer consequences—ones that are directly related to the behavior.

For example, if Silas, my youngest, refuses to get out of the pool, I’m not taking away his favorite toy. That has nothing to do with anything. Instead, I’ll say, "We’re going out to dinner in five minutes and need to get dressed. If you’re not out of the pool and ready, we can’t go together."

Does it work right away? Not always. But with consistency, the results are seriously remarkable and mind-blowing.

So with Kai, we didn’t punish. We explained:

"You’ve lost some of our trust. And until we rebuild it, I need to keep closer eyes on you. That means staying close to home."

He was annoyed. But he understood.

Earning back our trust became his challenge. And over the past few weeks, without the usual freedom to wander the village, Kai has been home more. And we’ve grown closer. It’s been one of the most beautiful seasons of our family life.

We started spending more time together—intentionally. Because even in Bali, it’s easy to fall into that same rinse-and-repeat rhythm: school, activities, dinner, showers, bed. We didn’t come here just to live for the weekends. We came for a reset. We just didn’t know what that reset would ask of us.

We’ve always had beautiful dinnertime conversations and nightly read-alouds, and I thought that was enough. But now I see: they need more… Kai needed more. He needs more of us.

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I used to pour all my energy into being a spiritual teacher—holding space for everyone else’s healing. I loved it. I still do. But I’ll never forget the night Ben said to me, after I came home late from the studio (again), "You give so much to everyone else, you come home with nothing left for us.”

At the time, I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to receive that feedback; so, I got defensive. I snapped, “What more do you want from me?”

Looking back, I understand. He wasn’t asking for more. He was asking me to do less elsewhere, so I could show up more fully here—with him, with our children, with myself.

Back then, our two oldest were still little. Many nights I came home after they were asleep. I didn’t want to cook. I didn’t want to connect. I was depleted. And because I had been connecting all day with students, I had nothing left for the people who mattered most.

Slowly, I began to see: family connection isn’t something I offer from what’s leftover. It is actually the source- the well- from which all magic blooms in life.

It’s the center of my everything.

If I’m helping others live more authentically, but not doing the same at home—what’s the point?

If I’m guiding students into deeper peace, but not creating that peace within our family—my work is completely irrelevant.

The real spiritual practice is dinner time, bedtime stories, and genuine conversations with my children.

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Back to present-day Kai: the boundaries we set, the focus on real connectivity, and really listening to his needs led to something extraordinary.

We found ourselves creating more, laughing more, and listening more. And Kai? He has been a pure delight—not in an Eddie Haskell way… not trying to win us over, just himself. Kind. Wacky. Funny. Wildly creative.

And I? I cut way back on work. I released the guilt-driven need to always be producing. Instead: slow mornings, homemade breakfasts, porch swing conversations after school, walks, family meetings, word searches, kite flying.

It all feels old-fashioned in the best way. Like we rediscovered a sweetness we didn’t know we were missing.

I realized: I want this life. For so long I fought to prove I was more than "just a mom." I chased the title, the purpose, the identity. But now, all I want is this: Motherhood. Marriage. Deep Connectivity.

Of course, I am always open to being guided to wherever I’m meant to be, but for this precious moment in time, it feels so good to admit that I just want to be a mother and a wife. I don’t need to say I’m a mom plus whatever else is going to make me look or seem impressive or important… I am currently fully content and absolutely overjoyed to honor this sacred time in my life.

I am still dabbling in readings for clients; however, I am taking VERY FEW clients per month… like very few…

I have to be honest, for so long, I judged SAHMs… I always wondered how one could feel purposeful without more of a purpose than one’s family. Joke’s on me… One’s family is the entire purpose of it all.

Don’t get me wrong, I fully support moms who work full time, part time, and those who are devoted solely to the work of family… There is no right or wrong way to mother so long as connection is the top priority and it will obviously look and feel differently for us all based on our circumstances and family dynamics.

I am merely offering this because it was a permission slip I feel like I have been craving for ages, but was too embarrassed to admit. I worried: Would I still be valued? Would my parents still be proud of me? Would I be important?

The truth? None of that matters… because what truly matters are the children I get to raise, the love we share, and time and space to genuinely connect because at the end of the day, my duty as a mother is to nourish and nurture their true core essence because when they feel safe and encouraged to live in alignment with who they came here to be, they will inevitably carry that through the entirety of their lives. And THAT is how humans positively impact the world- through living authentically and in direct alignment with who they came here to be.

When we are living authentically, we make wise choices. When our hearts feel safe, loved, and well taken care of, we add the most value to the world.

Thus, my intention for now is to invest in my family in all ways because not only is it the privilege of a lifetime, but it’s also my greatest contribution to this mighty world.

THEY are the future and how they’re being raised and supported NOW directly affects the future we will all one day call our current reality.

I used to think “only” being a mother would limit me. That choosing family first would somehow make me seem small… But now I understand that this is the most expansive thing I’ve ever done.

I’m not stepping away from my purpose. I’m stepping into the most sacred and meaningful part of it.

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