Most of you know that I have a story, a story of pushing back, of breaking cycles, shattering glass ceilings, and of choosing healing over bitterness. My life work is spent sharing this story to help others break free from the chains of addiction, trauma, and mental illness.

This past year, for the first time, I sat in a coffee shop next to my birth mother. We sipped our coffee and talked about life, our lives. I cried tears of relief as the gravity of this moment was felt. Grief and Peace collided this day.

My birth mother has endured incredible hardship throughout her childhood and most of her adult years. She has only been clean and sober for about nine years. She is in her mid 60’s.  That is a lot of time spent trying to push the pain down and numb it with mind altering substances. Now as an adult, I have a deep well of empathy and compassion for her. But that was not always the case.

As a child, a teenager, and even as a young adult, I couldn’t comprehend the depths of her pain, a pain that would cause you to harm your children emotionally, mentally and physically. This harm caused me to hate myself for many years. For so long I only saw the consequences of her choices, the neglect, the chaos, the suffering. And yet, this past year, at 40 years old, I was sitting beside the woman who gave me life and once tried to take my life, telling her that I forgive her, that I care for her, and that I love her.

Forgiveness is not easy, but I have chosen peace over bitterness.

When I look at this picture, I see more than just a birth mother and a birth daughter with a heart that has been patched and now has space for this chapter of healing. I see a woman in her 60s, carrying the weight of regret, and a daughter, with one tiny grey hair 😉, who has learned that healing is possible. My birth mother is not proud of all her choices, but she is grateful that her story does not have to end in despair. She knows the work that I do, and she is thankful that I use our story to help others find hope, healing, and freedom.

This week I was reminded of this moment while working with a mother currently walking in some of her darkest moments. As we sat together, she asked me, “How do you know that someone like me can break the cycle?”

I looked her in the eyes as mine filled with tears and answered, “Because I was a child just like your little baby. I watched my mother suffer, and I chose to break the cycle so that my own children would not have to carry the same pain. And if I can do it, so can you. You can do it for her and for yourself. I know how hard it is not to use substances that alter your brain so that you don’t have to hurt anymore.” I also told her that “my own birth mother wants me to tell you to hold strong now before you lose everything and are forced to carry the pain and regret all the way into her 50s and 60s.”

Healing begins when we start to look beyond ourselves and see those who have harmed us not as monsters but as human. They too have experienced brokenness, flaws, and often they are shaped by their own wounds. It’s important to also understand that seeing someone as human doesn’t mean staying for the harm to continue. We cannot allow harm to continue. I deeply believe in boundaries, and my birth mother both knows and accepts mine. I became a runaway homeless 15 year old starting from the very bottom because I realized I could not survive mentally or physically if the trauma continued. Boundaries do not mean we lack love; they mean we are protecting our peace and what we have worked so hard to build.

My birth mom understands now that her legacy will not be one of destruction but of redemption, because she encourages me to share my story in hopes that someone else will get the help they need sooner rather than later.

I almost died by her hands, but now I use our story to help others truly live.

For those who are struggling, with addiction, abuse, mental illness, or the pain of generational trauma, you do not have to stay in that place. You have the power to change your mindset, to do the mental health work, and to build a different future.

This is why I teach Breaking Free with Boundaries, Anger Management classes, Parenting classes, and I offer a 12 week Mindset Coaching class, because breaking cycles takes intentional work, and you don’t have to do it alone.

There is hope. There is healing. And you are not beyond redemption.

Let this be the moment you choose to fight for your future. Sober mind. Heart of Freedom.

When our children reach the point of adulthood and leave the nest, it can feel like a profound loss for us as parents and even a loss of connection.

We naturally have expectations for your lives: hopes for happiness, success, and safety. Letting go of those expectations has been one of the hardest parts of this journey, but it has also been one of the most freeing.

I just read this quote on someone’s page and it definitely spoke to me in this season of life: “When people walk away from you, let them go. Your destiny is never tied to anyone who leaves you, and it doesn’t mean they are bad people. It just means that their part in your story is over.” -Julia Roberts

These words remind me that as you walk your own path, it’s a natural step in your growth. Your choices, even when they’re different from what I might have imagined, don’t erase the moments we’ve lived together. They simply mean you are stepping into the life that is yours to live.

Letting go hasn’t just been about giving you physical freedom, it has been about loosening this parental grip on fear and the expectations that could hold us both back. Fear whispers that you’ll make mistakes, that you’ll struggle, or that life will be unkind. But mistakes are not the end of your story, they are part of it. As much as I’ve wanted to shield all of my children, I’ve come to understand that life’s most valuable lessons often come through challenges, setbacks, and the courage to stand up after a fall.

I want you to know that stumbling is not failure. It is a chance to grow, to learn, and to become even stronger. When you embrace the gift of learning, whether through education, experiences, or reflecting on your mistakes, you don’t fail; you flourish. I’ve come to see that my role isn’t to keep you from falling, but to trust that you’ll rise again, smarter and braver than before.

Letting go of fear doesn’t mean I love you any less. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop caring or cheering you on from a distance. It simply means I trust you to navigate your own path. I trust that the values, love, and lessons we’ve shared will guide you, even when the road gets hard.

Your journey is uniquely yours, and that means it will be full of surprises, missteps, unexpected turns, and moments of joy I may never have imagined. My hope is that you embrace all of it. Let go of the fear of failure, and know that no mistake can ever define you. What matters most is how you choose to respond, to reflect, and to keep growing.

Know this: my role as a mom, step-mom, and adoptive mom is far from over. I will always be an anchor, a safe harbor, and one of your greatest cheerleaders. But now it is time for you to steer your own ship. I trust the winds of love, resilience, and courage to carry you forward. I also pray that you will feel the love of God in every moment.

Letting go of my expectations and fears has allowed me to see you as the incredible individuals you are becoming, not just as the children I helped raise, but as adults capable of building lives full of meaning and purpose. It has also opened the door to a new kind of relationship with you, one built on mutual respect, trust, and unconditional love.

So, to my amazing grown girls and the little ones still at home, go boldly. Make mistakes. Learn from them. Grow in ways that surprise even yourselves. And always remember, no matter where life takes you, my love for you will remain steady, unconditional, and endless. You’ve got this, and I’ve got you. Always & Forever.

❤️ A Mom with peace that surpasses all understanding.

“All that is not said is transmitted.” – Psychiatrist Nassan N. Munyandamutsa

Take a moment to let that sink in.

When we avoid confronting our pain, it doesn’t just disappear it finds other ways to show up in our lives and the lives of those around us 😢. That’s why it’s so important to press into the uncomfortable, to journey into the unknown twists and turns of healing.

Healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. It starts with small, brave steps:
💉Put down the drugs and alcohol.
💔Release the toxic relationships that hold you back.
🙏🏼Look your pain straight in the eyes and proclaim, “I choose a legacy of peace and I will not give up!”

Here are practical ways to embrace your healing journey:
❤️Practice self-compassion. You don’t have to have it all figured out right away. Be kind to yourself as you take one step at a time.
❤️Find healthy outlets. Journaling, art, or even taking walks in nature can help you process emotions in a safe and constructive way.
❤️Connect with others. Surround yourself with people who uplift and support your healing journey.
❤️Seek professional help. A therapist, counselor, and life coach can provide the tools and guidance to help you uncover and release what you’ve been carrying and move forward.

You are stronger than the pain, and peace is on the other side of your courage. Start today your future self will thank you. 💛

With Love,
Stephanie Ellison

📚Storytime with Steph📚

I was at TJ Maxx the other day, and I stumbled across this eyeshadow palette. I didn’t need it, but as soon as I saw the Tasmanian Devil on the front, I couldn’t help but smile. I had to buy it. It wasn’t because of the colors or even the product itself, it was the story behind it.

When I was a little girl, my mom’s nickname was the Tasmanian Devil. That name carried a lot of meaning for me, and not all of it was good. My mom met a man at the Salvation Army when I was seven and he moved in with us. He didn’t have the same nickname but he had a devil tattooed on his forearm. Their relationship was toxic, and there was so much chaos in our “home”. I can’t say everything was bad because there were moments of light, but a lot of my childhood felt heavy and less than holy.

I remember learning how to hide when things got heated between them. I spent a lot of time walking through neighborhoods, just staying away from the trailer that we moved into when I was 10. I’ll never forget the day my stepdad left for good. The only word to describe that day was confusingly silent. My mom was sitting on the floor of our trailer when we came home from school, completely unresponsive. She was staring into space. She wouldn’t talk to us, wouldn’t even look at us. At the time, I had no idea what was going on. She sat there for far too long. I remember begging her to talk to me. I remember the burning tears as I begged her to talk to me. She didn’t speak to us for days. My brother and I were so young, and all we understood was that something wasn’t right. There was a moment I remember wishing she would scream at us or get angry like normal because the silence hurt worse.

Looking back now as an adult, I can see how much pain my mom must have been in. I have more compassion for her now, even though her choices to self medicate and mentally escape her life, and us, weren’t healthy. But as a little girl, I felt like we were a burden to her. I rarely remember a smile or hearing her laugh. Those moments were so rare that I hold onto the few memories I have of her laughing because they remind me that she wasn’t all chaos. There was still something good inside her, even if it was hard for her to show.

So when I saw this Tasmanian Devil eyeshadow, it felt like a little reminder. A reminder of where I’ve been and gratitude for where I am now. It’s like I needed to take that part of my story and see it differently, to find the beauty in it somehow. This little palette might just be makeup, but it’s also, oddly, a symbol of my history.

To anyone out there who’s facing the “devil” in their life right now, maybe it’s a person, a situation, or just a storm you’re stuck in, I want you to know you’re not alone. You don’t have to walk through it forever. You are stronger than you think, and even in the middle of the chaos, there is light. Sometimes it’s hard to see, but it’s there. And one day, you’ll be able to look back on the chaos you have survived and know that it didn’t break you. Hopefully, you will choose to push through the pain and trauma, allowing it to transform, until that old Tasmanian Devil becomes nothing more than a playful character from a childhood cartoon and your darkest nightmares fade into the colors of a distant memory. It might even become part of what makes you strong.

So hold on. Keep walking. You’re not defined by the disasters around you, and you’re not alone in facing them.

Yesterday, we celebrated 17 years of marriage, a journey filled with depth, meaning, and lessons that only time can reveal. As we reflected on our lives together, Danny said something that resonated with me: “Look at what our love has made.” Those words hold so much truth, not just in the family we’ve built, but in the people we’ve become because of each other.

It’s tempting to share only the beautiful photos, to paint a picture of perfect harmony. But that would be far from the truth. Our lives have often felt like war zones intense, raw, and chaotic. Our marriage has been a battlefield of emotions, where love and tension have collided more times than I can count. We’ve wrestled with hard truths, confronted our own darkness, and faced pain head-on. We’ve agreed on the little and big things, disagreed on the little and big things, and sometimes found ourselves in the messiness of compromise. It’s been both breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreakingly difficult, disastrous and redemptive all at once.

Yesterday, as we talked about loving our family well and striving for peace, I felt a sting of guilt. I’ve not always been a person of peace in our marriage or our family. As a wife, stepmom, mom, and adoptive mom, I’ve often wrestled with my role, especially when faced with circumstances beyond my control. For so long, I believed it was my job to create good humans. Only recently have I come to understand that my role is to guide, to disciple, to share wisdom, and to love unconditionally not to control the outcome.

That realization has come with its own battles. I know my grasp for control has, at times, created unnecessary conflict. And yet, as I reflect on these 17 years, I ask myself, “How can the knowledge of my mistakes serve me and my family now?” It’s clear to me that, without the wars we’ve faced, I wouldn’t treasure the peace we’ve fought so hard to find. The tension, the pain, the hard conversations, they’ve all made the peace that much sweeter.

Danny Ellison, you’ve been my partner in all of this, the good, the bad, and the miraculous in between. Your patience and willingness to fight for us have been gifts I don’t take lightly. You’ve shown me grace in my mess and forgiveness when I didn’t deserve it. Watching this family we’ve built together, through every challenge, through every victory, has been the greatest gift of all. Thank you for 17 years of growth, love, and resilience. Here’s to the beauty and the battles, and to all that’s yet to come.

Here’s to camping, connecting, and communicating with love. I love you!

After leaving the public schools in 2023 I began to share my personal story or resilience and hope across the nation. If you would like to read my blog or connect about students and or families from hard places please let me know. I run a nonprofit called Simply Encourage where I coach families who are navigating trauma and dealing with a broken system. I teach parenting, life skills, healthy coping skills, and community engagement skills.

I Want You to Know…
Some students are about to enter a season that feels heavy. For some, the holidays won’t bring peace or joy, but more uncertainty, pain, or stress. As you look around your schools, please remember this: your words have the power to light up your students life and the encouragement you give now may be just what they need to get them through this harsh winter.

Here are a few things we can all say to empower our students before a big break:
🙏🏼“I will miss you so much over the break.” Let them know they are seen and valued, and that their absence will be felt.
❤️“You matter so much to me.” This can be a lifeline for someone feeling invisible.
🫶🏻“Your worth is not tied to gifts or grades or what someone says about you.” Help them understand their value is unshakable.
📚“You are so strong, and I see how hard you try. I’m so lucky you are in my life.”
Acknowledge their resilience because it might be what keeps them going.
🙏🏼“It’s okay to feel however you feel about the holidays.” Validate their emotions, even if those emotions are complicated.
❤️“You don’t have to carry everything on your own.” Let them know they are not alone and that there are people who want to support them.
🫶🏻“When it feels dark, remember that light is still ahead.” Encourage hope, even when they can’t see it yet.
📚“You are not defined by what’s happening around you.” Remind them they have the power to grow beyond their circumstances.
❤️“I believe in you.” Simple, powerful, and life changing.

As someone who grew up navigating adversity, instability and uncertainty during the holidays, I know the weight some of our students may be carrying. Your kindness, encouragement, and presence can make all the difference for a child walking through a difficult season.

When you send your students off for the holidays, send them with the warmth of your care. Your words might be the gift they hold onto long after the decorations come down. Trust me. I was one of them.

Also remember there are many parents who were not equipped for their jobs as parents and are trying to keep their head above water. Have Grace for those community members as well! Be a light in your community!

On another note, thank you for all that you do. Me and my siblings were your McKinney Vento kids. Both of my brothers died by suicide and mental illness and are very much my why as well. They were the class clowns and sometimes aggressive but nobody can understand unless you’ve lived their lives. I was a submissive, compliant child, one of the lucky ones. It’s so very hard to educate and inspire our students who have so many odds stacked up against them. I’m here if you need to talk and even if you don’t!

Published Author & Parent Educator
Stephanie Ellison, M.Ed.

KXXV News

http://simplyencourageblog.com

Luke 15:11-32

Once there was a girl who had been grafted into an imperfect yet loving family later in her life, not as a child, but on the edge of adulthood. Her new, very human, family had opened their arms to her, offering love, safety, and a home. She was given a fresh start, a chance to belong, and an invitation to grow into all she was meant to be.

But healing takes time, and wounds from the past don’t fade overnight. Though her parents gave her a place at their table, her heart often wrestled with questions: Do I belong here? Can I trust this love? What if I’m not enough, or too much? Why would they love me? The pull of independence and old survival habits tugged at her, leading her to believe that freedom meant leaving the family that she had chosen and who had also chosen her.

One day, the girl decided to leave for college and with excitement her parents helped her prepare. They encouraged her to remember her promises to herself and encouraged her to dream of the life she wanted and opened their hands to release her from her family covering into this new life stage, adulthood.

She began to pull away from her family. She told herself she needed space, that she didn’t need the boundaries of her new family. She longed to prove she could make it on her own. Her parents knew they couldn’t force her to stay. They had taught her the value of love and boundaries, but they also knew love must be a choice. And so, with tears in their eyes and prayers in their hearts, they hugged her tight and they let her go. The hooks of her past were pulling her into spaces that her family was not welcome to enter.

The Role of Boundaries

What the girl didn’t fully understand at the time was that the boundaries her family had set were never meant to keep her out. They were meant to keep deception and harm away. Those boundaries were the walls of a fortress designed to protect what mattered most: their trust, their peace, their family unity.

Her parents hoped that one day she would see that those walls weren’t built to trap her, they were built to shelter her. They weren’t a rejection of her independence; they were a declaration of her worth. She was worthy of love that would protect her from harm and guide her toward a life of honesty, trust, and wholeness.

The Waiting Parent

As the girl walked away, her parents were left with their questions: Did we love her enough? Did we teach her the value of family, of belonging, of herself? Did we set the right boundaries, and were they clear enough to show her their purpose?💜

The father from the parable of the Prodigal Son became their inspiration. Like him, they didn’t chase after her, trying to control her choices. Instead, they waited, their hearts always turned toward her, their eyes scanning the horizon for the moment she might return.

The waiting wasn’t passive. It was active love. They prayed for her protection. They kept her place at the table, and their hearts soft. They reminded themselves daily that love doesn’t fail, even when it feels like it’s not enough. They trusted that the seeds of love they had planted in her life would grow in their own time.

The Return

In the story Jesus told, the prodigal son eventually “came to his senses” and realized the truth: that he had left the safety of a love that never wavered. He returned to his father, expecting judgment or rejection, but instead found open arms, celebration, and restoration.

For the daughter to truly show her parents that she has experienced a change of heart, it would require more than just words or an apology it would require visible, consistent actions that reflect a transformed lifestyle. Just as the prodigal son returned home ready to live as a servant and not demand his former status, the daughter would need to demonstrate humility, respect for the family’s values, and a willingness to honor the boundaries that protect the family. Her parents, while eager to welcome her with open arms, would need to see that she not only understands the cost of her choices but is committed to living differently moving forward. This would mean building trust over time, showing gratitude for their love, and taking responsibility for her actions, 💜not to earn their love but to honor it💜. True change is REFLECTED in how she approaches relationships, decisions, and her role within her family.

For the parents of this young girl, this was their hope. They didn’t know when or if she would return, but they trusted in the power of love. They wanted her to know that no matter how far she went or how long she stayed away, she was never truly alone. Their love would always be waiting, not to shame her but to welcome her back home.

A Parent’s Prayer

“Lord, I’ve done my best, but I still wonder if it was enough. I hope she saw that the boundaries were not to reject her, but to show her value. I hope she understands that our love is unconditional, even when it feels imperfect. And I hope she knows, deep down, that she is welcome here. Help me to keep my heart soft and my hope alive. Let her find the strength to return, not just to us, but to the truth of who she is, a beloved daughter worthy of love, safety, and grace.”