Mental Health

Tough Love

Posted on by Lauren

“This is MY school. Let ME handle it.” My fourteen year-old screamed.

And hey, she isn’t wrong. It is HER education. And there’s nothing more that I want than to let her take the wheel. But that doesn’t mean that when the train starts to veer off the tracks, I’m not going to hop in and remind her of the course ahead. 

It’s the end of the school year- the end of middle school for our oldest. She’s drained and done. Unfortunately for her, there’s still a solid week of school left, so even though she’s mentally checked out, the reality is, she’s still on the clock. 

We are not a Straight A household. Some might argue we are selling our kids short by not setting the bar extremely high but Emmett and I highly value quality of life. We do not want our kids stressing over getting a 97. Instead, we expect a strong work ethic, core values of honesty and kindness and an adventurous spirit that loves to have fun. 

When assignments are missing for no good reason other than “I didn’t feel like it” or “It’s stupid”, privileges like cell phones magically start going missing, too. This is not fun. It’s not fun for us and it’s surely not fun for our daughter. But I feel it’s the most important lesson we can teach our kids. 

Here’s the bar. If you miss it, try again. If you still miss it, give it another go- your privileges will be waiting. 

As a teacher, I see an epidemic of kids who do not know how to handle disappointment or failure. Today’s parents want to spare their children the tough love they were given. As a result, our kids are coddled. They fail to launch because what’s the incentive when they’ve got food, shelter and electronics for free?

I’m saying: “Not in my house.” Here’s the bar. It’s not set to an impossible level. But it’s there and I do expect you to meet it, if you want to retain your privileges (which, by the way, our lives are already privileged compared to the masses). 

Call me mean. Call me strict. I call it Love. I love you so much, I’m not going to let you give up. 

It’s tough, but so are you, my darling. 

Tough love. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Protect Your Peace

Posted on by Lauren

Protect Your Peace. 

I found myself texting this to a friend recently, offering the same advice I repeat to myself. 

2026 is all about Protecting My Peace. 

Toxic people and their drama? Distanced from. 

Friends and relationships who are bright lights and encourage my own light to shine brighter? Coveted. 

Books I’m not enjoying? Discard pile. There’s no consequence for not finishing other than protecting my precious time and peace of mind. 

2026 is about diving into activities and events I enjoy with the people that bring out the best in me. 

Full stop. 

Our time is not promised. 

So protect your peace.

18 Months

Posted on by Lauren

Today marks 18 months of sobriety for me.

It’s a day like any other because I truly do not think about alcohol anymore.

The hardest part of getting sober was admitting to myself that I had a problem. I had been hiding for so long, I was terrified to look into the mirror.

Once I admitted I had a problem and made the decision to stop allowing alcohol to poison my life, the rest was easy.

My initial greatest concerns were:

  1. Would I be able to write anymore, without alcohol loosening my filters?
  2. Would I be able to enjoy socializing without alcohol?
  3. Would I be tempted by alcohol, while others openly drank in front of me?

The answers to these questions are

  1. Yes. I’m prouder of my writing now than then.
  2. Yes. There are so many incredible options such as N.A. Blue Moon and Mingle cocktails. Honestly, I rarely drink them and am good with 1 maybe 2 of them. The lack of alcohol removes the need to drink more.
  3. Not at all. My relationship with alcohol is separate from anyone else’s. My experience is not theirs. I simply do not want it. I don’t want to return to where I was. It doesn’t bother me one bit when others drink in front of me.

I share my experience not because I feel the need to keep myself accountable. I don’t need that kind of pressure in my life.

Instead, I share because the brave soul, Ryan Boyce, shared his sober testimony and it changed my life. If my share inspires you to change yours, then it’s worth recognizing this milestone.

The holidays can be equally full of magic and heartache.

Remember this: you are not alone. There is light.

 And my hand is right here to grab, if you need it.

Cheers, everyone and thanks for the support and love along the way.

I send it right back to you.

Stay

Posted on by Lauren

She called and she said, “I don’t know what to do.”

And I said, “Here’s XY and Z.”  

All the places someone else can help.

“But here’s the truth.  

There’s no one more qualified than you.”

Listen, I have those kids.  

They need professional help.  

They need accommodations, counseling, services and meds. 

And we utilize them!

But at the end of the day, 

What do they need most?  Above all?  Since birth? In addition to God?

Me.

They need me to show up. 

Me not to punt them and their struggles for someone else to solve. 

They need me to hold their hand. 

When it’s ugly and neither of us know what the hell to do. 

They need me to just walk alongside them through it. 

I fill blanks with the qualified but I also remain steady. 

No matter what they are going through, 

I am here.

“And that’s what you do.  

You stay.”

I stay.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Show Up

Posted on by Lauren

Here’s the thing about mental health: 

No one knows what to do. 

Instead, everyone waits for someone else to solve it. 

Because it’s ugly. 

There is no straightforward “treatment plan”.  

When someone is in crisis, it’s scary. 

What do I say?  What do I not say?

How should I act?  

And so we freeze and wait for someone else to solve it.

But when it’s between life and death, 

What then?

Someone has to step up. 

That’s what. 

When everybody else waits, what are you going to do?

Are you going to wait?

Or are you going to show up?  

Camille Vaughan Photography

Together

Posted on by Lauren

It was an innocent assignment; written in the curriculum years before the pandemic even began. 

Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote a letter to children in 1947 and now it was my child’s turn:

“Write a letter to children in the future describing what life is like today for your family.”  

She began with the simple facts:  her age, family and hometown.

But by the second paragraph, my nine-year-old froze.  

Covid-19.  Living during a pandemic.  

And just like that- it was all too much to bear. 

It’s one thing to survive on a daily basis. 

It’s another to face it in words.

The fear, the masks, the social distancing.

“Mommy, I don’t want to do this.”  She cried.  

I held her, told her to take a break and later said, 

“We’ll do it together.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we cannot do it alone.  

We do it together. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Moving Beyond The Page, Epiphany Curriculum