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Published:
February 7, 2026
I chose to include an image of Motherhood: Facing and Finding Yourself by Lisa Marchiano because her work speaks to the psychological complexity of motherhood--particularly the parts that are rarely named. While the book does not focus on parenting with disability, it explores motherhood as an identity shaped by limitation, longing, ambivalence, and adaptation. Those themes feel deeply relevant to my own lived experience and to the unspoken realities many people carry when they grow up with a parent who cannot fully meet conventional expectations of motherhood.
Last night I was scrolling on TikTok and stumbled upon a video of a woman sharing that her mother had a developmental delay. I was immediately intrigued because I, too, grew up with a mother with delays--specifically an Intellectual Developmental Disability (IDD), formerly known as mental retardation.
Almost instinctively, I felt compelled to record myself and ask how many other people out there also grew up with a parent with IDD. To my surprise, the video blew up. I was met with an overflow of comments from people who had experienced something similar.
If you’d like to view the video on TikTok, you can watch it here.
I don’t hide this part of my life from clients when it comes up, but I also don’t typically lead with it unless it’s relevant. So in that sense, this feels like new territory.
I don’t actually know who reads my blog. It could be current clients, prospective clients, or people who simply stumbled across my site. Regardless, it felt important to also come here and talk about this. On the off chance that someone is reading this, I hope you feel seen, understood, or compelled to share this with someone else who might benefit.
For a long time, I was told not to talk about this part of my life. To keep it quiet. To carry the burden of shame.
Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time working through and processing that shame--personally and professionally. And last night, something shifted. I hit a point where I just thought, fuck it.
So here I am.
I don’t fully know where this is going yet. I’ve been thinking about eventually expanding this conversation to YouTube and talking about it more openly. For now, this feels like the right place to start.
If you’re reading this and have questions, curiosities, or experiences you’re wondering about, you’re welcome to reach out. You can email me, whether it’s something personal, something clinical, or something you’ve never said out loud before.
Sometimes naming the thing is the first crack in the shame.
This post is shared from my personal experience and is not a substitute for therapy or professional mental health care.