Catia Holm 9/16/19 Catia Holm 9/16/19

We are packing our bags and....

In 2018 our youngest, Luciana, turned a year old. And as parents of young children, EVERY SINGLE PERSON advised us to, “savor the moment,” and “enjoy the girls.” They told us “things will go by in a flash,” and “don’t miss it.” And so Guapo and I looked at each other and thought, we’d better listen.

So we made a plan. We would slow down. We would take things off our plates. We would choose to BE with our young girls and cherish the days.

So in March of 2018, we decided we’d leave our beloved Austin, put our careers on hold and we’d take a life sabbatical.

We’d go somewhere where life was slow, and we could just be together.

A few months later, in May of 2018, we gave away half of our belongings, stored the rest, and moved to Panama. Panama, Central America. All of it went pretty quickly.

Guapo did all the planning, and I packed our bags. I landed on Panamanian soil, sight unseen. I didn’t do a lick of research. I just trusted.

We arrived with 6 suitcases, 2 car seats, a stroller, a 3.5-year-old and a 1.5-year-old.

The night we arrived, Guapo assured me a luxury van was going to pick us up and take us to a hotel. When we walked out of the airport into the wet humidity, I saw no luxury vans. But I did see some janky vans. “That one!” He was pointing to the janky van. “Oh my God,” I thought. I got in the van, and it didn’t have a way to affix the car seats. “Great,” I’m in a foreign country, and I can’t keep my baby safe. What did we get ourselves into?

But then we walked into our new home, and I thought, “alright, alright, alright!” It was clean and beautiful and had so much space! Turns out, the cost of living in Panama is A LOT less than Austin.

The girls’ bedrooms were the priority, and so we went to go buy a crib for Luci, and Guapo asked for “ropa” to tie the crib to the top of our rental car. And so they kept sending him to the 2nd level of the store – where they sold….CLOTHES! Lasso. It’s a lasso. We needed a lasso to tie the crib.

We have SO many of those stories.

It took us about 3 months, but we learned a new way of life. A slow one. When I arrived, I continually wanted to be productive and busy because that’s how I had always operated. But in Coronado, there was nothing to do. There was the beach, the gym, and golf. Those were your choices. And so, I learned to just sit and not rush from place to place.

And then, the most magical part started to happen. We began to BECOME more attuned to our children. We spent days, seeing them for who they were. We learned better ways to parent. We took so much off our plate that we did what we set out to do – we enjoyed our girls. We spent countless hours in the pool and in the hammock and dancing in the kitchen. We absolutely changed the dynamic of our family. We learned how to be intentional with words and time, and we have seen our girls flourish because of it.

And once the four of us got our bearings, we started to settle in, and build a community. We made Coronado, ( a small beach town 90 miles west of Panama City) our home. We became friendly with the fruit stand attendants, the beach club staff, the team at our local salon. I took a part-time job as a gym instructor and even got a Zumba Strong certification along the way. Guapo went surfing and started Jiu-Jitsu. And we had BBQs and game nights and play dates with friends. We really loved people, and they loved us back.

And now Alexandra is 5 and Luciana is rounding the corner on 3, and it’s time to pack our bags and go back to Texas.

We have had a rough several months here health-wise and a few nights ago our home got broken into while we were sleeping. But even though the last few months have been rough – I am still so glad we came.

We did it.

I mean, I’m just a girl from Weslaco. I grew up in the same house my entire life. Getting up and moving to a foreign country was a big deal for me. And I did it. I figured it out. I figured out the traffic and directions. I figured out how to teach a gym class in Spanish! I figured out health care and school systems. I figured out how to build a community, one intentional act at a time.

Today, I told some of my friends we were moving, and my girlfriend said, “What are we going to do without your light?” She squeezed me tight. And I cried.

Never in my wildest dreams did I picture our life sabbatical unfolding the way it did.

It was rich in experience and love and courage. We did exactly what we set out to do – we slowed down, and we loved Alexandra and Luciana well. Which may sound cheesy, but how good do you feel when someone loves you wholly and completely? We are all the better for it.

What an adventure.

If you’re out there and you’re wondering if you should take a leap. DO IT. If you’re wondering -- it’s because your soul knows it needs to stretch. It’s because your soul knows that there’s so much to be experienced and learned and felt and enjoyed when you take the leap. I can’t tell you how your leap will turn out, I can’t promise you it’ll turn out like a fairy tale, but I can guarantee you that you will be delighted when you realize just how strong and capable you are. Go for it, adventure awaits. And come back and tell us the story.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

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Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 5/21/19 Catia Holm 5/21/19

Infinite Love | Show Up for Your Life

“Enter into a relationship with the universe, relationship as alive, as active, as vital as any other relationship. Then know that you are connected to the world and everything init. Know that the universal love, Divine love, is real and you are an important part of it.” -Melody Beattie, Journey to the HeartI

Life has a funny way of bringing us full circle.

Six years ago I was running bars and restaurants and I was having a blast! After a long work week, I’d cozy up on the couch with my dog, Beau Jackson and my cat, Charles and let my body and mind quite down.

Once I was really quiet, thoughts would start bubbling up. I’d start thinking about my feelings and where I wanted to go, and just the kind of woman I wanted to be. I didn’t quite know how to sort it all out - so I did what came naturally. I wrote. I wrote and wrote and started to share my thoughts via a blog. (This was bold stuff back then!) I was an aspiring writer, but didn’t yet have the language for it.

I spent years blogging about my feelings. It was both rewarding and brave. Every time I shared a blog post it revealed tender parts of me while at the same time encouraging others. And after a while, I found my style, my tone, as a writer.

I started to gobble up books to be inspired and to learn. One of those books was Eat, Pray, Love. The decision to crack open Eat, Pray, Love was in hindsight, seminal. Elizabeth Gilbert infused courage into my heart as a woman and as a writer. She gave me permission to change, to love, to hurt and to seek.

In 2013, I got wind that Infinite Love, a community organization in the Rio Grande Valley, centered around love and meditation, was hosting Elizabeth Gilbert as a speaker - and I was over the moon delighted. Elizabeth Gilbert!!!! What an amazing opportunity. I was so happy just to be in her presence, I was swimming in gratitude.

That night I told her that her book changed my life and that I wanted to write a book one day. She hugged me and spoke encouragement over me and I left with a full heart.

——

On Wednesday May 1st, 2019, six years later, Infinite Love, the same organize that invited Elizabeth Gilbert, invited me to speak to their community.

I looked down the barrel of time and all the changes that had transpired and then it hit me.

It took six years, but I did what I set out to do. I put one foot in front of the other and designed the life I wanted. I changed careers, wrote and published a book, became a public speaker - and most importantly I found a way to not only be fulfilled but to be of service to my corner of the world. I have found a way to give my readers and audience members permission to change, to love, to hurt, to seek.

At Oprah’s Live the Life you Want Tour in 2014

With my girls celebrating the release of my book at Book People in Austin, 2017

At a Barnes and Noble Book Signing in 2018

Speaking to a group of college students at South Texas College in 2019

Life has a funny way of bringing us full circle.

—

The gathering of folks at Infinite Love on May 1st was holy.

There were men and women of all ages. There were men ready to release emotions and cry into my shoulder. One whispered, “One more hug please,” as his tears dried off.

There were women who told of traveling hours just to be there. There were moms who told me stories of their fractured relationships with daughters, clinging to hope.

There were people ready to pull the veil back and truly look at themselves. There was a husband in trucker hat and boots and a wife in a cardigans and flip flops, who wanted to connect and take their relationship to a deeper level.

There was a young college student who wanted encouragement because money was tight, a tired mom who wanted relief from her trauma filled past, and an eager mom and teenage son who traveled from North Mexico to come be a part of this event, this gathering.

Appearances would show a motley crew, but I know better. There’s nothing motley about souls who gather in that way.

As a speaker, I prepare months ahead of time. By the time I show up I have honed the information and my delivery hundreds of hours. I know what story will fit where and when to throw in a joke. And yet, when the event begins, I let all the technical go.

When the event begins, all that is left to do is for me to SEE every audience member. Hold them, hug them, pay attention to them, give their heart and their troubles a place of rest. And so even though I am the one with the microphone, it is an exchange of energy. Me and every single person in the audience, connecting and going deeper into truth, no matter how tender.

I have always had a great audiences. Every single one has been ready to share, to connect, and go there. This group, at Infinite Love, went above and beyond that. They were so present that what could have been just another Wednesday night, was a holy moment.

A lot of healing, a lot of tears, a lot of energy shifts, a lot of hugs.

This is my job, to see and hold my readers and audience members in their most tender moments and love them right where they are at. And it’s an honor.

—

Thank you to Infinite Love and the super sisters, Malka, Alka and Saju (and the rest of the family!) for being such a vital part of the Rio Grande Valley - you make a difference everyday. You are changing lives. You have made the world a better place.

Malka, Me, Saju and Alka - Three of the sisters who founded Infinite Love

You can connect with Infinite Love on their FB page or on their web page.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 5/13/19 Catia Holm 5/13/19

On being a daughter, of a great mother.

I called my childhood phone number, the phone number I have KNOWN all my life, and my dad picked up.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, Catia.”

I paused.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“What? Is that weird?”

“I just didn’t expect it.”

I still think of myself as a daughter.

I am David and Nellie’s daughter.

Of course, I am a mother. Of course. But a big part of me and hopefully a forever part of me identifies as Catia Hernandez, from Weslaco, Texas – you know, David and Nellie’s daughter.

I asked to speak to my mom, but she wasn’t at home. She was on the road, picking her up mom, my Abuelita to bring her back for Mother’s Day Brunch. She still identifies as a daughter too.

I called back a few hours later.

My Dad picked up the phone.

“Nellie, it’s Catia.”

“Hi, precious.” My mom has referred to me as precious my whole life. And Celeste when she’s clenching her teeth in frustration.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Happy Mother’s Day,” I said in between cries, my chest filling up with shallow puffs of air.

“I miss you, too,” she said.

“I miss you, mom.”

“We’ll see each other in June.”

“I know.”

I cried and held back my tears trying to have a decent conversation. But it was pretty much small talk.

And then she passed the phone to my Abuelita, Welita. And I started crying all over again.

“Feliz dia de las Madres, la amo.”

She told me (in Spanish) to close my eyes and feel her hugging me. “Feel my big hug full of love.” She kept repeating it over and over.

She began to weep and then passed the phone back to my mom.

We told each other we loved each other, hung up and I exploded in tears.

I just spent the last 6 weeks living in parents home (with my two girls in tow), and it was glorious. (We are currently living in Central America but traveled to the US to get some quality time together.) Seeing them every day – coffee, wine, tacos, talking politics, brain science – playing with Luciana and Alexandra outside on the swing. Normal things.

No galas, no fancy dinners, no big show stopping moments – and all the most special. Hellos, Goodbyes, have a great days, I love yous.

Flower shopping for my youngest brother’s upcoming wedding

Not a lot of people get the chance to spend so much leisure time with their parents, nor would they want to! But I have both – time and a good relationship – and for that I am so grateful.

It’s not so much that I missed my mom yesterday (Mother’s Day), it’s that I know how important she is. How very sweet this season of our life is, where I see her in all her gifts and glory. No longer am I the bratty kid who thinks she’s knows more than her mom, I sit at her feet and watch and learn in awe of how hard she has worked and how well she raised us. Raising kids who feel well loved are all well loved is the way we change the world. And she has.

I cried because I know there aren’t that many more Mother’s Days we will celebrate. I know enough to know that life ends. And man, I’m going to do all I can to soak up every moment with my mom and show her (albeit awkward at times) how much I value her, admire her and appreciate her.

I cried because I know my Welita did the same for my mom.

This is how long we have been connected.

We’ve been connected since my mom was conceived.

For 60+ years, the three of us have been together. And so it goes for my mom, me and Alexandra and Luciana. Spectacular.

I am writing a book now, for my girls – a book of letters detailing who they are, where they came from, what will happen when Mama and Papa leave this earth. A book seeped in so much love. Something they can hold in their hands and know they were loved and have answers to questions about just who was their mom? My hope is that these letters spark conversations everywhere between mothers and daughters. That they may love each other lavishly and cherish the moments they have with one another.

Mom, I am lucky to be yours.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 5/11/19 Catia Holm 5/11/19

“Must be nice.” Words that used to cripple me.

My parents were and are really hard workers (My mom was born in Mexico and migrated to the US, my dad was born in Texas and grew up working on farms,) and they opened their own business in 1982-- and the fact that they were business owners was enough to get people to bully me as a young girl.

Must be nice to have it so good. Must be nice to have it so easy. Must be nice to not have to work so hard. Must be nice to be teacher’s pet.

And the ultimate dread was that they would say these things to me in Spanish. I’d get steamrolled verbally and I couldn’t keep up or respond and I’d just have to walk away with my tail between my legs.

After enough bullying I subconsciously I started to defend my life.

Every time I would encounter a blessing, or something fun and simple like a new outfit, I’d book end it with 9-year-old versions of “But I also encounter struggle.” I’d go off explaining how I too suffer. How life is hard for me from time to time. How I don’t have it all. How I hurt. How my life wasn’t perfect. I’d laugh it off and sometimes throw in some self-deprecating humor – anything to convince my classmates I was worthy of belonging.

The truth of my childhood was that I was blessed.

I had amazing parents who loved me well and kept me safe. I always had food and clean clothes and never wanted for anything. I had birthday parties and Halloween costumes and complete emotional support. I did have nicer things than some of my friends, but not the nicest. My mom drove a blue Toyota Corolla, a grey Astro van and then a maroon Ford Tarus station wagon because if would fit the snare drum that I toted to school every day.

I never felt entitled. I always felt grateful and more than that, a responsibility. A responsibility to do the best with what my parents had worked so hard to give me.

So I did. I worked hard. (I wrote about how my parents gave me the gift of grit here.) I was a good student. I tried my hand and did well at UIL writing, marching band, jazz band, golf – and all sorts of other extracurricular activities.

What I wanted more than anything back then, was for someone to acknowledge my hard work. I wanted my peers to see how much I tried – how much I was earning what I was receiving.

I wanted to be able to be blessed, work hard and also belong.

I started working for and with my parents when I was 8. And every holiday, and summer vacation – while my friends were watching tv and going to the mall, I was working with my parents. I put in a lot of hours. My duties were simple, but I was working. And by the time I was 14, every summer, I was working full-time as a cashier.

I was blessed, I did have it nice, AND I stewarded both well.

What would give me knots and throw me into a shame spiral was when people dismissed my hard work.

And so I learned to sandwich every blessing with difficulty. And over the years it became part of who I was.

Has that ever happened to you? A bad habit just become part of who you are?

I would dim my light and hide my joy because if I was truly standing in all of who I was, I was a target for ridicule.

As I became a wife and mom and continued my path of healing and self-discovery, I started to be curious about this part of myself. The part that wanted everyone to know that I worked hard, that I was deserving, that I was worthy.

It’s still a tender spot for me.

I still guard that part of my heart close.

But I have started to shed the layers of shame around “it being nice.”

I am a good person, who takes good care of friends and family and everyone in my world. I am grateful and generous with my time and thoughts and effort. Most of this is not public – and yet I know that I have made a difference in lives of many people for the better. And I do it from a place of sincerity. I want to make the world a better place and I do what I can where I can.

It can be hard to share blessings with the world because you’re always putting yourself out there for others to comment, “must be nice,” with an undertone of dismissal.

I am 35 now and learning that it is a disservice to my joy and my life and the lives of those around me if I am constantly tampering down all that I’ve received – whether it be by blessing, fortune, luck, or hard work.

Even right now, my old habits are creeping up and I want to tell you how much I have struggled.

“Everyone lives three lives, public, private and secret.” - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I want to share with you why I deserve all the goodness in my life. I want to tell you that I am grateful for it. That I treat people well. That I deserve it.

But I’ll stop myself.

I’ll stop myself because I want you to know that you deserve ALL the goodness the Universe and God can send your way with having to defend it.

What would our lives look like and feel like if we accepted all that goodness with grateful heart, enjoyed it and were good stewards of it? Can we begin to lean into that?

May you know you are worthy of a peaceful life.

May you know that you can experience goodness in its fullness without defending yourself.

May you know that you are deserving.

May you know that you have nothing to prove.

May you know that when you rise to the occasion that is your life, it gives us permission to the same.

May you know that more you share the goodness in your life, the more you will receive.

May you know that you belong not despite anything, but because you are.

Feature Image: Abel Riojas Photography

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 3/17/19 Catia Holm 3/17/19

Labor, Jesus and Sarah. A thank you to my labor and delivery nurse.

On the evening of January 18th, 2017 I checked into the hospital. Baby #2 was on her way.

During labor for baby #1 a labor and delivery nurse told me, “Each baby has their own way of getting here.” She told me she thought we, (as laboring women), would have an easier time if we didn’t clutch onto our expectations for dear life. So the second time around, I heeded her advice.

At 7pm the hospital staff had a shift change and so my first nurse, Dala who was considerate and made sure to give me every comfort she could – even through the pokes and pricks – said goodbye and Sarah said hello.

I labored without meds for 2 hours, got an epidural, labored for two more hours and pushed for FOUR minutes. Lightning fast compared to my first labor.

As soon as I pushed her out, they whisked the baby away from me because she was blue and purple because she had sucked in a lot of amniotic fluid. They worked on getting her risk free. I didn’t get to see her or hold her for a while.

At 12:53 am I gave birth to a healthy baby girl — and by 1:30 or so — a cloud started to loom over my hospital room.

While the baby was being taken care of, the doctors and nurses realized my placenta was not coming out and more severe measures were going to have to be taken.

The doctor explained the 2 or 3 procedures they would try before resorting to a C-section. I was losing blood and my placenta needed to come out. And for safety reasons, they needed to move me to an operating room just in case things went south.

So while my husband held our minutes old daughter, they transferred me onto a gurney and away I went.

As they rolled me out of the room – I locked eyes with my husband and told him I loved him and that I would be okay.

Sometime after delivering the baby and before I was wheeled away – I brought God close and I started to hum one of my favorite church songs. No words, just humming.

There is power in the name of Jesus

To break every chain, break every chain, break every chain

As they transferred me I hummed, as they wheeled me into the operating room, I hummed, as they took off my bra (for the just in case) — as they strapped my legs to stirrups, as they connected IVs to my arms, I hummed.

What actually happened in the O.R. is hazy. I remember the brighter than bright fluorescent lights and I remember seeing a large digital clock with red numbers. And I remember catching glimpses of the symphony of nurses, but I couldn’t see much else.

During the procedures they had my chest and torso WEIGHTED down with 20 pounds of white cotton blankets because my body was convulsing. It was like someone had unzipped my skin and the insides of my body were exposed to the icy temperature of the operating room.

Half way through the procedures, (one of which included a doctor sticking her entire forearm into me and rooting around for pieces of my placenta,) the doctor said, “It’s stuck, we’re going to have to try something else.” She reached for a serrated spoon and started to scrape this insides of my uterus.

She said, “This will cause fertility issues later.” “If this doesn’t work, we’ll get the hose.”

I said, “I’m losing blood, I can feel it.”

And I continued humming.

There is power in the name of Jesus. There is power in the name of Jesus.

“Yes you are and more blood is on the way for you.”

Minutes later I heard the doctor ask the nurse, “Where’s the blood?”

“We have someone at the door waiting for the blood – it’ll be right up.”

I knew I was losing blood because my vision started to go grey and I could feel my brain shutting down.

“Nope, no more energy for that.”

“Or that.”

And then my eyes closed.

The doctors gave me a blood transfusion, scraped out my placenta and took me back to my original room. I convulsed for three hours in shock. My body could not stop shaking, trembling, my teeth chattering incessantly.

Once the convulsing stopped, I was transferred back to the bed I was in before. I was desperately thirsty, and someone brought me a plastic pink jar full of ice chips. I used the mirror directly in front of my bed and stared at myself eating ice chips until the ice chips were gone. I’m not sure where my mind went, but I was somewhere far away.

And a few hours after that, they brought in the baby to nurse. Because even though I had just been through major trauma, the baby needed to eat.

The next morning the doctors explained to me that I had hemorrhaged 50% of my blood.

Sarah, my labor and delivery nurse, was absolutely my guardian angel that night.

I met her around 7:30pm. She walked in professional and kind. She asked what kind of labor we were shooting for – and she was open to all of it. We explained how we wanted a minimally invasive labor. And I told her that during my first labor I had staked my pride on not having an epidural — but that I was wiser now. (ha!)

During my four-hour labor Sarah watch intently, joked with me, helped me through contractions and was ultra-supportive.

And when things started to get serious – when I was wheeled into the OR- Sarah was the only person I “knew.” And even though I had only interacted with Sarah for 4 hours – she KNEW ME. She had seen me go from casual to in pain to in excruciating labor pain – she had seen me and helped me push a human out of my body AND she had seen things take a turn for the worse.

Sarah walked with me through the hospital halls from my labor room to the OR – she held my left hand the entire time and never left my side.

For as long as I had the energy – I hummed, There is power in the name of Jesus.

And at the point that I stopped humming because I just couldn’t anymore– Sarah leaned in and asked, “What song are you humming?” The only response I could muster was, “a church song.”

And then…

She took over humming for me.

I could feel her – holding my hand – giving me warmth – literally and figuratively.

I didn’t have the energy to hum with her but I could hear the hymn and in the midst of the chaos – I felt peaceful.

To Sarah, my labor and delivery nurse, thank you for investing in me and the life of my baby, thank you for your boundless heart, thank you for giving me strength and grace. I see how hard you work and what you do reverberates WELL beyond the moment – maybe even a lifetime, and I appreciate you. Sarah, during one of the holiest moments of my life – you were there with me – guiding me with ease – and for that, I thank you.

And to all labor and delivery nurses – we more than see you – we appreciate you and honor you and we thank you for pouring your hearts into our labors and our families. You change the world for the better.

Parts of this Blog were originally published on Austin Moms Blog

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Hernandez Holm Speaker Author The Courage to Become TEDx.jpg

Buy The Courage to Become

Catia Holm 1/22/19 Catia Holm 1/22/19

Becoming Joyful from the Inside Out | Essential Oils

Parts of 2017 were rough for our family, mainly, Alexandra. In January of 2017 her sister was born, about a month later when I figured out that I couldn’t raise a newborn and also keep Alexandra stimulated during the day, we sent her to “pre-school” a few times a week and a month after that the young lady who helped us around the house and with Alexandra (so she was Alexandra’s best buddy) found another job. It was a lot of transition for Alexandra and she had BIG feelings that manifested in physical outbursts.

I’m talking extreme– she would beat us up. Bad. She hit and kicked and screamed and would get so enraged that I knew she was literally out of her mind. I could see when her senses shut down and she was on rage mode. I felt terrible for her and also for us. We even restored to spanking her which made it all worse. (Want to stop spanking your kids or just want to learn how a toddler's brain works, read - No Drama Discipline). One night it got so out of control and I was so scared and pissed that at midnight I Googled, therapy for kids. I needed help. ASAP.

Around the same time I was starting to get vocal about my Postpartum Depression and my friend reached out to me and she said, these will help you. They WILL make a difference. She was talking about essential oils and I started to pay attention.

Even saying essential oils felt super silly at first, but slowly I started to lean into the science and results and possibilities.

And it all felt overwhelming. There was so much information. I thought, “how do these people have the time for all of this!”

But I knew I needed help getting Alexandra to a good place, and I was going to use all the tools available. So we started therapy and we started essential oils.

When the oils arrived, we called them “magic.”

The very first night I remember opening an oil that my friend said would help my girls sleep through the night (both of them!) and that was huge, since I was nursing and pumping and oh so tired!! I pulled out “Peace and Calming” rubbed it on the girls' wrists and on their chest and VOILA! They both slept through the night.

And so, that was how we started. With sleep.

There are many essential oil companies out there, I am a fan of Young Living. My good friend who introduced me to oils is one of the smartest, most thorough, good hearted people I know. And that’s why I like Young Living, because she vouches for it. That’s plenty for me. She is a wealth of information and encouragement and I love that about my journey with oils. She’s also an attorney and doesn’t need my money to sustain her – and so I know that her recommendations are coming from an honest place – and that makes me feel good too! (Just keeping it real!!)

Back to oils.

I took the plunge for me and for my family and little by little we addressed things like sleep, trauma, jealousy, change, and once we addressed some big emotions, we started addressing our physical health. We began making our own vitamins with oils, using essential oils to clean the air, our floors, SO MANY THINGS.
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We use oils every single day.

My husband makes his own vitamins with oils! (Lemon, Black Pepper, Cinammon, Ledum, Thieves, Oregano, DiGize, GLF, Grapefruit, Peppermint)
I use Loyalty oil as a perfume. I say a little mantra, be loyal to your truth, and I go on my way.
If I’m having a stressful day, I swipe on Present Time Oil, it helps me stay in the present and just breathe.
Alexandra uses a special blend of oils, GeneYus, to help her focus at school.
During the day I use Lemon Essential Oil for my water.
During the day I run the diffusers with Thieves and Cinnamon to clean the air in our house. Sometimes I even use Orange and Tangerine. Yum!
I use an essential oil blend (SARA- helps with trauma , Release- to help let go of it all, and Sacred Mountain -Sacred Mountain promotes feelings of safety and knowing the world will always take care of you) and make a linen spray. I spray this on our beds before we go to sleep.
I keep an essential oil room spray (Pine and Thieves) in our guest bathroom.
Before a big work event like a keynote or even my TEDx talk, I lather myself in Present Time (to keep me in the moment) and Valor (to give me courage to shine!)

I keep a bag of oils by my bedside that I swipe on my feet and wrists and neck each night. Oils that are meant to help calm my brain and get me to a place of peace. Some of them are: Rose, Release, Geranium, Sacred Frankincense, Inner Child, Joy and Gratitude. They are crucial to my sleep.

At night I make my own mix of oils, depending on the girls' behavior and what’s going on in our lives, and run the girls’ diffusers. Sometimes Alexandra and Luciana need more emotional support (Peace and Calming, White Angelica) and sometimes they need help with head colds (Thieves, Lavender, Lemon and Peppermint)– it all depends!

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I just keep learning and we keep using them and we have seen incredible results.

We’re almost 2 year into oils and I LOVE them.

Oils are the first thing I turn to for a bug bite, a rash, fragrance, emotional support (they have helped me with my PPD, weaning off of Zoloft, when I’m pissed, when I’m scared and when I’m trying to raise my vibration) immune system support, and even for cooking!
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Let’s talk some more science.

In my TEDx talk,Choose Joy or Die,I talk about how if we are not consciously choosing joy, we are dying.

See how Joy is near the top and shame is near the bottom?

This chart depicts frequencies, vibrations. Good vibes vs. bad vibes.

Here's a crash course on frequencies (taken from Oily Por Vida)

✔ Every cell in your body, every single living thing, has a vibrational frequency. When we consume things that have frequency (such as plants which are living things), we can increase our body's frequency, which will increase our health.

✔ Healthy human body frequency: 62+ MHz.

✔ Illness starts at 57-60 MHz.

✔ Our bodies are receptive to cancer at 42 MHz

✔ Death begins at 25 MHz.

✔ Essentail oils have frequencies as well, which can raise our bodies’ frequency. They range from 52-580 MHz.

✔ One of the most important modalities of essential oils is their ability to raise our body’s frequency to a level where disease cannot exist.

✔ Processed food: 0 MHz, meaning it does nothing positive for your health.

✔ Raw, real food (things that are alive) are the only foods that will raise your frequency.

✔ The essential oils with the highest frequencies are Idaho Blue Spruce (580 MHz), Rose (320 MHz), Helichrysum (181 MHz), and frankincense (147 MHz).

✔ Coffee: Even holding a cup of coffee can lower your body frequency by 8 MHz (yikes!) Taking a sip lowers it by 14 MHz. BUT! Listen to this: When essential oils are inhaled following exposure to coffee, the bodily frequencies restore themselves in less than a minute. But if no oils are administered, it can take up to 3 days for the body to recover from even one drink of coffee. How crazy is that?

✔ Negative thoughts decrease our frequency by up to 12 MHz.

✔ A positive thought can increase our frequency by 10 MHz.

✔Prayer/meditation increase our frequency by 15 MHz.

We can makes choices to raise our vibrations! I think that's great news. :)

When I learned about this research, I really went into high gear with essential oils.

By raising our vibration with our food, positive thoughts, prayer, laughter, dancing, and even with essential oils, we are choosing joy. We are ascending. We are living a life of joy and vitality! And we all deserve to live lives full of joy.

If you’d like to get started with essential oils, send me an email (catia@catiaholm.com) and I’ll point you in the right direction.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 1/8/19 Catia Holm 1/8/19

2018. A Lot Happened.

I have never taken time to reflect about the previous year, and I don’t think I have ever been intentional about the upcoming year. I always just keep going.

But something was different this year.

I wanted to sit down and reflect. What did I actually DO in 2018? I didn’t want the time to slip away without the acknowledging of moments. Because as I get older, moments get so much more important to me. Do they get more important to you too?

Over the last few days I’ve thought about all that happened in 2018. It started with construction paper and a crayon. And then I took some time to write down my intentions for 2019. Standard issue for a lot of people, but it’s my first crack at it!

This list is so personal that it may not resonate with you. BUT - you have your own list of life happenings. Things that you leaped for and reached. Moments that brought you heartache. Moments you wish you could do over, moments you want to hold in your heart forever.

I sat down and looked at my cell phone pictures over the last year - so this list is long and yet truncated.

There are so many things not on this list that I value deeply.

When Luciana started to “say” grace before meals, when Guapo and I worked our way through some heavy moments, when Alexandra started to sing her way through the days and her ad-lib lyrics were, “You have the power of creation,” when Beau came to me in my dreams.

I lived a lot of life in 2018, and this is my way of acknowledging it.

2018 Happened

First book store event – Book People

Joined Noonday Collection, tried it — was terrible, left Noonday Collection ( blog on that later.)
Joined LIVE A GREAT STORY

Celebrated Luciana’s 1 year birthday

Guest on Network TV spots for The Courage to Become

Locked keys in car, the girls and I thanked someone for helping us by sharing a Popsicle.
Got to see Rob Bell with best friend Sarah
Moxie Matters Tour with Mom

Mom and I got closer
Barnes and Noble event for The Courage to Become

Used a fancy mic for the first time

Easter with Beau Jackson

Said goodbye to Austin
Said goodbye to Beau Jackson
Applied for TEDx, Created a TEDx talk, gave a TEDx talk
Silent Meditation retreat with Dr. Shefali Tsabary
First Spanish TV spot for The Courage to Become - in Spanish!
Sent 1,000,000 Courage to Become packages to Oprah , heard nothing back.
Upped my Zoloft, tapered off of Zoloft
Purged material things
Largest keynote to date, 200 women

Gave first donated event as an author/speaker – benefiting CASA in Austin
First speaking event in a church, on an alter!
Visited Iowa
Lived with Mom and Dad for 6 weeks
Moved to Panama

Climbed a mountain – La India Dormida
Celebrated 35th birthday with new friends, now good friends
Meditated
Made friends with the Ocean
Went ATVing on a mountain with Comads
Explored Panama City
Visited Contadora Island 2x
Celebrated Alexandra’s 4th birthday

Hosted family in Panama

Celebrated 5th wedding anniversary

Settled family into a new community
Applied for a new job as a fitness instructor
Got Zumba Strong certified

Created a community of friends

Saw a live starfish
Worked with my family
Let go of needing to know
Therapy - progress
Raised my vibe
Let go of trauma
Started Jiu Jitsu

Earned first jiu jitsu stripe
Thought about going to Colombia, took family trip to Colombia

Learned more about non-toxic living – have a cleaner house
Shined a light on 16 women through The Courage to Become Feature Series
Spread awareness about sexual assault and post-partum depression
Started personal training
Dropped more into my center
Started to learn about treating my liver well.

How’s that for a sexy ending? Treating my liver well! ha! Listen, as I age, my health becomes more important and I know it’s all a process — A LONG process - and I’m okay with that, because I’m here for it all.

Taking the time to reflect was fulfilling in a way I did not expect. Some of my own take-aways were:

Wow, that’s a lot of life lived. That’s a lot of change. That was A LOT. I am very fortunate. I am busy. I am exploring. I am moving forward. I am living well. I am in the flow.

Do you take time to reflect on the previous year? What have you learned? What are some things that are on your 2019 action list?

Whatever may be on your list. Know you are loved and powerful and that I am rooting for you. You deserve to live the life you’ve always dreamed of.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 1/7/19 Catia Holm 1/7/19

Grit is a Gift

You know those people who don’t have to study to get an A? Or the people who are magically good at any sport they try? Or the people who just seem to walk around with life unfolding so easily before them?

That’s not me.

You know that old football movie, Rudy? Where the main character is in love with Notre Dame football and will give anything to be part of the team?

Rudy is from Illinois and lacks ALL that is needed to make the team. He has no money, terrible grades, and is 5’6. His prospects are bleak.

BUT - Rudy wants to play for Notre Dame so badly. So he wills his way from a junior college to Notre Dame. THEN, he wills his way onto the practice football team where his body is used for hitting practice. And eventually after YEARS of trying his absolute hardest, he wills his way onto the OFFICIAL football team. And in the last game of his senior year, Rudy made ONE official play for Notre Dame Football before his teammates whisked him off the field in celebration.

THIS… this is more like me. I’m the person whose skills don’t quite measure up - but tries anyway.

Growing up, I was ashamed that I had to try so hard at everything - ballet, studying, band. I was always amazed that other people didn’t have to put in the work and yet -- we magically we arrived at the same place.

But over the years, the shame started to slough away and I started to become proud of trying. Proud that I had the onions to go after things that interested me.

To see something on the horizon and walk toward it – even though nothing says that the road to the horizon will be easy – is grit. And grit is a gift.

My parents gave me this gift.

My mom, Noelia Barrera Hernandez, migrated from Mexico to the US with her family when she was about 6 years old.

As a child her entire family would pile into the bed of truck, with only a tarp to protect them from the elements, and drive from the southernmost tip of Texas to Wisconsin -- to go pick beets and cucumbers. They lived in a one bedroom house with dirt floors. And while her parents worked in the fields, as a 6 year old, she’d care for her infant brother.

As a teenager she would go to school and after school would clock in at the local grocery store, working until 11pm most nights.

My dad, Renato David Hernandez, started working with his dad, Hortemio Hernandez, at age 11. During the summer, he would work at a farm co-op from 7 in the morning until 8 every night. He would weigh trucks carrying tomatoes, tally up tickets for farmers and their crews, and even call out-of-state truckers and place orders. He did this every summer until he turned 25. All the while, going to school, and helping his mother, my grandmother, open a flower shop.

On June 12th, 1983, at the ages of 24 and 25, my parents were married. And since it was the middle of tomato season, they didn’t go on a honeymoon. They were married on a Saturday and both returned to work the following Monday.

A few months later, with the support of their families, my mom and dad started their own business, beer corner stores. They called them, Pop-A-Top. Eventually these corners stores morphed into Holiday Wine and Liquor. And today, my folks have been in business 36 years, own 9 stores and have been able to employ and create opportunity for thousands of families.

As newlyweds, when my parents needed a weekend to themselves, they would make the 5 hour road trip from the Rio Grande Valley to Austin, Texas. They would pack up their small red truck with koozies and stop at convenience stores along the way – selling their wares. This was their weekend spending money.

My heart has always beamed with pride with who I come from and where I come from.

And while to some people, failure is not an option. For me, grit is the only option.

My parents, entirely by their actions, taught me how to dig in and put one foot in front of the other.

Somehow I have put one foot in front of the other and willed myself into a speaking and writing career, loving on women and reminding them of their innate worth.

I went from a career in hospitality-- to writing a blog -- to trying to write a book – to actually publishing a book -- to getting all sorts of amazing praise for the book – and even to speaking on the TEDx stage.

I have willed myself into a life I love that loves me back. Enjoying and cherishing my husband, girls, and our adventures - every single day.

And none of this would have been possible without grit.

The other day I was in Colombia with my family and I sent my mom and dad this photo.

I thanked them for giving me such a beautiful life.

I’m a 35, married and a mama, and I absolutely know whose shoulders I stand on.

Could my parents ever have imagined their impact? Their lives have reached far and wide — through all the people they’ve touched, through all the people who have watched them walk through the world, through my readers and their children, and beyond.

Mom and Dad, I have endless gratitude for the people you are in the world and for the parents you have been to us. You are adored, cherished and valued. The world is a better place because of you.

Friend, there’s honor in seeing something on the horizon and doing your best to get there. If your heart is calling you to make a move, to go forward, to explore, to stay, to make a change, to fulfill a dream - listen. Will the road be easy? Nope. Do you have what it takes to walk the path? Yes.

Dig those heels in and give it your all. Begin.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 11/24/18 Catia Holm 11/24/18

Leaving a Legacy

The word legacy is pretty loaded. Will you have mattered? Will other people think you mattered?

How will I be remembered? Will my life have mattered? Will people care when I'm gone? What will they remember most about me?

Most of us think about our "legacy" every now and then.

When it all shakes out, how will it turn out?
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A few weeks ago Alexandra and I made the trip from Panama to the US. She, as per usual, was chatty and friendly. "Hi, I'm Alezzandra (she can't quite pronounce the "x" yet), what's your name? Oh, that's a pretty name." She acknowledged people, hugged them, and wished them well. In the airplane aisles, airport bathrooms, everywhere!

On our way from Panama to Houston she came across a man in his 70s. She introduced her self, asked him about his day, hugged his leg and went on her way. (We are working on asking permission before we hug ;) )

We walked to baggage claim and that gentleman in his 70s came up to me and said, "I hope I don't offend you, but I'd like to give you $20.00. Maybe you can buy your daughter some treats or a toy. She has really touched my heart and I just want to say thank you."

I wasn't offended at all and offered something else. I said, "Why don't you write her a note? You can send it to me via email and I will save it for her. (Guapo and I have made email addresses for the girls and we send them notes from time to time.)" I said, "When's she's older, she'll be able to value it.” He agreed, we exchanges niceties and we went our separate ways.

A few days later, he sent this note.

"hello Alexandra, remember me? George. thank you for your presence. i was truly surprised by a very special gift from God. yes, a four year old child named Alexandra introduced herself as we walked towards the customs immigration check point inside the houston intercontinental airport.

in today's society, we are always on guard from the fear of the evil's presence. but you Alexandra gave me a moment of peace. everything in relation to fear fell apart at the moment of your presence. to me, this is more valuable than anything i could ever imagine.

you reminded me of my reason to live. God wants us to share love. that very special moment in your presence was a God given gift for me through you. continue making a difference in this world. continue being a light from heaven in our hearts. you already have victory in the palms of your hands. sincerely, george"

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Alexandra did that. Kindness did that. Love did that.

Alexandra is 4 and has already started leaving her legacy. A legacy of presence, kindness and love. A legacy that includes SEEING people and acknowledging them.

It doesn't take money or power or fame to leave a legacy.

So if you're wondering if you matter. You do. If you're wondering if people will miss you. They will. If you're wondering how you can leave a greater impact on this world, LOVE MORE. Really look at people, acknowledge them, love them fully and set them free to be ALL of who they are.

LEGACY = LOVE.

Who do you feel in your heart? Who do you carry around with you? If they are still with us on this earth, do they know you carry them with you? Wouldn't it be nice to send them a note and let them know how much they have made a difference in your life?

I want you to know that you matter and that your legacy need not be defined by professional accomplishments. Your legacy can be defined by love.

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Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Shine your brightest,

Catia Holm 10/6/18 Catia Holm 10/6/18

Help for Post Partum Depression (and the like)

I have had postpartum depression … twice. And so have A LOT of your friends and family.

When you’re a first time mom, the postpartum experience is new – and since it’s your first time around – it’s not easy to figure out what’s normal and what isn’t.

During my first pregnancy I was aware of the postpartum depression possibility so I guarded against it. I encapsulated my placenta, I worked out, I went to therapy, and still – the bottom fell out from under me. Only I didn’t know it – and not knowing that you are in the midst of postpartum disorders is the most dangerous.

One day, when my first born was about 4 months old, I noticed that I felt really good. I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders – and over the next few weeks, the puzzle pieces fell into place and I knew I had been depressed and anxious.

Here’s what my first go with postpartum disorders felt like:

Having thoughts of my baby getting hurt or dying A LOT.
Extreme jealousy and irrational behavior.
- Fear that my husband would find a better woman.
Not connecting with my child.
- I tended to her needs and no one could tell I wasn’t truly connecting – but I knew.
Resentment of my new life.
- I wanted a baby, and had one, but then I was kind of pissed that my life had changed so much. Where had my life gone? Where had my freedom gone?

So then, with my second baby, I was ready. I knew what to look out for. My husband and I were ready!

With my second baby I had a traumatic birth (I lost 50% of my blood and had to have blood transfusions) so my OB was on high alert for me having Post-traumatic stress disorder, but after a few checkups, she deemed me fine.

The first several months of my second baby’s life were a dream. I was in love with her, I was connecting with her, I had help around the house, and my husband was helping a ton – ALL GOOD!

But then around month four – things started to get weird. I started to have major anxiety and my fuse became shorter and shorter. And around month five, my girlfriend Alexis at Birth 360, posted an article about late onset postpartum depression – and I read it – and it all clicked.

Dang it! It happened again!

I immediately called my doctor and made an appointment.

Here’s what postpartum depression felt like the second time around:

Having thoughts of my children getting hurt or dying – A LOT.
A general sense of fear of not having enough (money, food, time, etc.)
A short fuse, zero patience.
Anger toward everyone. Suppressed rage.
Feeling like someone had a boot on my neck.
Feeling helpless to affect change in my work life.
Irrational thoughts

Here’s a quick example of irrational thoughts:

My husband and I were out of town visiting family. We were staying in a quiet farm town, at least 30 minutes from a grocery store. One morning he cooked our oldest daughter breakfast — eggs and hotdogs. He also precooked hotdogs for the rest of the day – so that she would have something ready to go if she got hungry.

I asked him if he had had his fill of hotdogs, and he said yes. Then I said, “Okay, I’m going to eat the rest of these hotdogs with my breakfast.” I too wanted eggs and hotdogs. And he said, “Why don’t you have the chicken (there was cooked chicken breast) so that she can have the hotdogs later?”

And I got PISSED.

Thoughts started swirling in my mind. He doesn’t think I deserve hotdogs? Am I not worth hotdogs? I should be able to eat the hotdogs if I want. Am I not worth the $8 worth of hotdogs? And on and on.

I jumped in the shower and began to weep.

Guys, my husband and I have a strong relationship. He loves me and I love him, deeply. We have been through life together and still, we pull closer together. The sky is blue, and my husband loves me — I KNOW these things. And I knew intellectually that he would want me to have the hot dogs if that’s what I wanted – but my brain was spinning OUT OF CONTROL.

And when I told my OB/GYN the hotdog story – she said, “I’m glad you’re here for help.”

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Useful questions for help for postpartum depression:

I recommend you ask yourself or have a person you trust ask.

Are you having fears you didn’t used to have? What are they?
Are you angry your life has changed?
Are you having thoughts that your baby is going to die?
Are you frustrated throughout the day? What sparks the frustration?
Do you feel inadequate?
Do you feel supported?
Do you feel like you can be honest about your feelings with those around you?
Has your libido changed? How?
If you have children, how do you feel toward them? Same as before baby? More connected, less connected?
If you are married or in a relationship – how do you feel toward your spouse/partner? Has it changed since post baby? Describe.

These are BIG questions and they only work if you commit to being honest.

The thing I’ve heard most from women about postpartum disorders is that they are ashamed. I am here to tell you – there is nothing to be ashamed of. It is a hormonal issues – not an issue of ability or will power.

You can ask for help from your OB/GYN, your child’s pediatrician, a counselor or your girlfriends, community and family. Some women feel better after talking about it with friends or a therapist. Some women need medication (me!) And some women need a combo of things.

We are all with you and for you.

Childbirth brings on so many changes, good and bad and messy ones. But the point of it all is to ENJOY your new baby and your new family. Get the help you need, you deserve to feel good!

Other resources:

PPD Moms

Pregnancy and Postpartum Health Alliance of Texas

Postpartum Progress

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This post was originally written for and featured on Austin Moms Blog

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Catia Holm 9/27/18 Catia Holm 9/27/18

Raising my daughters to honor their voice, from a sexual assault survivor.

A few years ago I read an article titled, Reminder: She Doesn’t Owe Anyone a Hug. Not Even at the Holidays.

““The notion of consent may seem very grown-up and like something that doesn’t pertain to children,” says Girl Scouts’ developmental psychologist Dr. Andrea Bastiani Archibald, “but the lessons girls learn when they’re young about setting physical boundaries and expecting them to be respected last a lifetime, and can influence how she feels about herself and her body as she gets older.”

I resonated with the article and I immediately started to give our daughter’s voice (Alexandra was an only child at the time) power and weight. And since I read that article, her dad and I have focused on teaching her how to honor her body, to have dominion over it, to treat it with care and respect.

This year, she started Pre-K 4. Wowzers! This is our first year to experience a full school experience. You know what I mean, parents? Drop off is at 8am, pick up is at 1pm, Monday-Friday. There’s folders and checklists and forms and meetings -- it has really thrown a wrench in our coffee drinking!

Last week we were getting ready for school, the house was moving at 90 miles per hour, we were running late, so I hustled to her bathroom and grabbed her long, curly hair to loop it into a ponytail, and turned to me, raised her voice and firmly told me, “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”

—

I was born in 1983, and finally at 35 with the help of therapists, God, personal growth and community, I have started to stand tall in the notion that my body is my body.

Becoming a mom -- the pregnancy, the post-partum depression, the cracking open of my heart and body, the evolving and changing – peeled back my protective layers. It exposed every raw nerve ending I had surrounding body image and worth. And by the grace of God, I knew that I was being presented with the opportunity to heal festering wounds and broken belief systems.

—

The first time someone groped me, I was in the 3rd grade. I was 8.

We were in the school hallway standing in front of our homeroom and one of my classmates reached out and grabbed my 8 year old boobs with his hands.

I was wearing a blue polo shirt (my parents used to dress me in shirts that would tone down my curves) and long denim shorts. My cheeks still flushed from recess.

I still remember his face and the way his straight black hair framed it.

I still remember the confusion.

I still remember the embarrassment.

Do I think my classmate was evil? No.

Do I think he knew what he was doing? No.

Do I think he should have known better? Yes.

It sucked.

I went home and told my parents. They were mortified, and my dad told me to punch anyone who ever did that again.

That was the start of it. 3rd grade. 8 years old.

Between the age of 8 and 28 I was groped who knows how many times, sexually assaulted twice, one of those times I was raped.

Becoming a mother to now two young girls has shined a light on all sorts of things, like:

I am always aware of the men around me, how they are acting and what they are doing, and I’m always aware of how I am dressed. What people will think of me when I wear _______________? What message am I sending? Isn’t that sad? I know that’s the way of the world, and I know that’s the way it’s always been, but my goodness, does it always have to be that way?

I’m not even sure I know how to make choices without taking the “man factor” into account.

My heart races because somewhere along the way people planted seeds of “it’s not that bad,” or “it’s no big deal,” or “he isn’t hurting anyone.”

As a woman society taught me to give and serve and be hospitable -- to cushion the blow for everyone else, especially the men. Sometimes I feel like I should just absorb the discomfort of harassment/indecency/bad taste -- for the sake of the relationship, situation, party, moment, etc.

I remember going on dates and ending up in the same room with the guy after and feeling like I owed it to him – I owed him sex, I owed him my body. And for the record, he may not have thought that I did – but we were too young and ignorant to have any language for it. What a terribly low bar. Food? A meal? In exchange for my body? My spirit? The space that it would take in my heart forever? Pitiful.

—

So when Alexandra said, “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”

My immediate thoughts were:

Use your mom card, YOU ARE HER MOM.
Override her.
It’s time to go to school!
No time for preferences in the morning.

BUT I took some time and thought, If I override her voice now, it will be that much harder for her to keep centered and strong in her convictions.

As her mother, I will always have some authority over her, AND so will a lot of other people, and I NEVER want her to think, their opinion or preferences matter more than mine.

Because, that’s what a lot of this boils down to, right? What you want, matters more than what I want. And that’s bullshit. What I want should matter.

In regard to healthy relationships (not any form of abuse)…

We are bigger and better and smarter than thinking only one person can get their way. There’s always talking, there’s always a widening of perspective, there’s always letting go, there’s always space for discovery and possibility. There’s always opportunity for someone to speak up about who they are and what they want. There’s always time to hear someone and honor them. There’s always time to be heard and be honored.

I want our mother/daughter relationship to be a model for her relationships going forward.

What does a loving, caring, solid relationship look like? What does it feel like? How do two people dance it out? How do two people cheer each other on? How do people in relationship walk through disagreements? How does someone lead with honor? What does it feel like when someone wants the best for me and the best for themselves?

Alexandra: “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”

Me: “You are absolutely right, Alexandra. I did not have permission. Since we are going to school, would it be okay if I put your hair in a ponytail?”

Alexandra: “Okay, you can give me a pony tail. But, remember, mama, MY HAIR, MY BODY.”

Me: “Yes it is, sweetheart. Next time I’ll ask permission.”

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Buy The Courage to Become

Catia Holm 9/27/18 Catia Holm 9/27/18

And yet, #metoo

By now you may have heard of the #MeToo movement. A movement to get women to say out loud – I was harassed, molested, abused, assaulted and maybe even raped.

The other night when I saw my girlfriend post ‘Me Too.’ I paused and thought, Wow. Her? She’s so smart and capable and well put together. She’s a great mom and wife and business woman. She shows no outward signs of trauma. She’s funny and kind and fiercely strong. Her?

But then I thought: Me Too.

I have been harassed too many times to count, fondled in a club setting and I couldn’t tell whose hand it was. One time I was working in a restaurant and while I was facing a table that the restaurant owner was sitting at – a man from a table behind me grabbed me between my legs. Thank goodness I was wearing pants. No invitation, in public – while I was working — and while his 80 -year-old mom was sitting across from him. I was overcome with emotion. I went at told my boss and I was met with a luke warm reaction, and my heart broke. How could someone value sales over my well-being?

I went home at told my boyfriend – and he stood up for me in a way that felt so good. He helped me feel safe again – and worthy of being protected.

One time I was in college and a guy walked out of his dorm bathroom naked and started yelling at me. He called me a whore and all sorts of other things and why wouldn’t I just give it up? I left his room running and didn’t tell a soul. Years later I saw him being honored during half-time of a UT football game for being on the National Championship team. My heart dropped.

And that wasn’t the worse time.

One time during graduate school I was sexually assaulted. And that was the one that really sent me over the edge and spiraling in all sorts of ways invisible to anyone. I told a few people but didn’t get help for years. One day I decided maybe I should tell my mom – but no time ever seemed right. And so I told her while we were looking for earrings at Dillard’s.

It was so weird. I had no road map.

And she was the one who made sure I got the help I needed – for years.

From the outside – I kind of look like I have it all together – kind of like my girlfriend. I have friends, a career, a faith I love, and daughters who are the light of my life. I have a husband I adore and I volunteer and do all the normal things. No outward signs of trauma – and yet, #MeToo.

I am telling you things that I haven’t thought about in years because they feel so gross. The restaurant incident literally made me feel SO violated. I am sitting here on my couch – wiping the tears from my face and drying my hands on my jeans. Seeing the accumulation of disrespect to my soul and my body is almost too much to handle.

My intention in sharing all of this it to create a safe space for you, for us.

My guess is that you have experienced something unwanted. I am uninterested in ranking our suffering. If our hearts hurt – if our spirits were changed – if our bodies were violated – it all matters.

And it’s okay if we take some time to tend to ourselves.

Recently I had the privilege of hearing Dr. Edith Eva Eger, she is a Holocaust survivor and the author of the book, The Choice. Being in her presence was unbelievably humbling. It was a blessing to hear her speak and share space with her. She was 16 when she was imprisoned in Auschwitz, miraculously survived and has gone on to do some amazing work through her lifetime. Perhaps some of the nuggets she shared can help us heal.

· The biggest prison is in our minds and we have the keys in our pockets.

· Don’t let someone’s energy take residency in your body.

· Don’t let the past hold you hostage

And two of the most impactful for me were,

“Grief is not an illness and, we can’t heal what we don’t feel.”

Sisters, I’m so sorry you have been hurt. Share your story with someone who will hold you tenderly. Seek help from loved ones and/or professionals. Give yourself every chance to release any shame, hurt, anger or frustration.

I’m going to do this too. I thought I was healed, but I think my feelings were just dormant – waiting for me to address them.

Thank you, #MeToo movement for spurring societal change and hopefully healing.

RESOURCES

· Text GIRL to 741-741 to be connected to a trained crisis counselor 24/7. It’s free and confidential.

· National Sexual Assault Hotline – 1-800-656-4673

—-

This piece was originally written for Austin Moms Blog by Catia Hernandez Holm on October 18th, 2017.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 9/18/18 Catia Holm 9/18/18

The Courage to Become | Eva Sheie Kiser

Thanksgiving 2016. Just as my dad was about to say grace before Thanksgiving dinner, my sister’s baby girl Amelia threw her head back and smashed my sister’s lip with her head. My sister left the table with a fat, bloody lip. Later she told me she was really sad because she felt so alone in that moment knowing that neither I or our younger brother Rob would ever understand what it was like to have children.

*My sister Maia, Amelia (the head-butter), me, and our mom Mary after Thanksgiving in 2016. Look closely and you can see Maia’s fat lip.*

I was 40 then, flying every other week from Austin to work in Seattle. Having finally landed the best job of my life, my husband and I were traveling whenever and doing pretty much whatever we wanted to do. It probably looked like we had finally “made it.” But it felt really empty.

If it’s ok to have a favorite member of the Trinity, I’d like to admit I am a big fan of the Holy Spirit. In my life I have heard both the still, small voice and the yelling, sign-waving, dancing-banana-on-the-street-corner sign of the Spirit. All I can tell you is that in order to hear that voice, you first have to listen.

Sometimes my life choices were pretty kooky. I like to joke that the Spirit even tricked me a few times, starting in the middle of my senior year of college by calling me to apply to grad school in Texas by reconnecting me with a long-lost teenage music camp crush in Houston. My (I still think this was genius) plan was to get my parents to buy me a plane ticket to Houston to visit Rice University and see if it was an option for graduate school, then I’d meet up with the old flame from camp.

As I plotted and schemed, my heart changed and I found myself really caring about getting into Rice and not so much about the boy. And then somehow I got into Rice, and that was a miracle too because I showed up to audition for the viola program on the wrong date and they weren’t expecting me. The elusive professor Martha Katz just happened to be in her studio with nothing to do at the time I arrived. I played for her that afternoon, and she recommended me to the legendary Karen Ritscher, who accepted me sight unseen on Martha’s word.

I arrived in Houston on the 4th of July in 1998, with $800 in the bank and whatever I could fit in the car. My nine years in Houston were spent first in school, then scraping a living together with gigs, teaching viola lessons, and eventually a part-time job in medical marketing. The rest of my time was devoted to drinking and related activities where drinking was involved. During this time, I strayed a long way from who I was called to be, struggling through many dark experiences and destructive relationships.

I’d feel guilty and drag myself to Lutheran church a few times each year, but didn’t emerge from the drunken fog until I got hired for a gig with the praise band at River Pointe Church in Sugar Land. I would drive away after the gig laughing to myself and judging the people waving their arms during worship. It became a regular gig that I kept for years, and for the first time I was in a place where the Bible was the singular focus, not the traditions, the liturgy, the hymns, the choir, or my family legacy. It was here that my heart was changed and I finally understood that Jesus was calling me back home. He just had to trick me into getting there by paying me to do a regular gig.

I could feel a sea change coming. I felt antsy or nervous like I was waiting for lightning to strike. But I kept saying, I’m listening. Show me where you want me to go, even if it’s crazy.

In the summer of 2006, a very close friend got married in Wisconsin, so I flew up for the wedding. I met the bride’s cousin there, which developed into a long distance relationship. He was a professional musician in Seattle, he promised could get me hooked up with the good gigs if I moved up there, he had the whole family background thing going and pursued me relentlessly.

Eventually I dismantled my life in Houston, got rid of almost everything I owned and packed what was left into my car. He flew down to help me drive, and I sobbed as we left Houston on a stunning and bright Texas morning in February 2007. When we reached El Paso it was snowing sideways and I had come down with a fever and a nasty cold. He and I had never lived in the same place, so I had no idea until that day how he’d treat me when I was sick, and it was not good.

Looking out of a port-a-potty at the Grand Canyon during the move from Houston to Seattle. I look happy in this moment, but I was overwhelmed with grief for the life I left behind me. See how puffy my eyes are? I didn’t even take any photos of the G… — Looking out of a port-a-potty at the Grand Canyon during the move from Houston to Seattle. I look happy in this moment, but I was overwhelmed with grief for the life I left behind me. See how puffy my eyes are? I didn’t even take any photos of the Grand Canyon.

By the time we reached Salt Lake City on the third day, I was wearing headphones inside the car so I wouldn’t have interact with him. Once I got to Seattle, I had to stay at his home for a while and it was just miserable. I needed to find a place to live immediately, and again, a miracle happened. I found a 2-bedroom apartment on Alki Beach with a direct view of the water and picked up the job as the building manager, so my rent was only $650/month. When I tell Seattleites that story today, their jaws always hit the floor. You can’t rent a closet for $650 today.

The view from my Seattle apartment included a miniature Statue of Liberty. I lived about 50 yards from this spot. Here I learned that having a beautiful view or living in a cool neighborhood doesn’t make you happy. My feet were always cold and there… — The view from my Seattle apartment included a miniature Statue of Liberty. I lived about 50 yards from this spot. Here I learned that having a beautiful view or living in a cool neighborhood doesn’t make you happy. My feet were always cold and there were only 36 days of sunshine the first year I lived here.

That relationship fell apart within weeks. I was so flat broke from moving, I didn’t even have anything to sit on in my apartment. I was quite unhappy to find out that the beach was sleepy and quiet unless the weather was nice, and people weren’t generally outgoing or friendly. The “Seattle Chill” is real and doesn’t do any favors for introverts who are prone to seasonal depression. I just wanted to move home to Houston. I was so ashamed and embarrassed by my mistake that I lost my sense of self-worth.

That pull to go to Seattle had been so strong over the previous year that I never questioned it. I ignored every red flag in that bad relationship along the way. I had been so excited to start this new adventure, but instead my entire plan fell apart. I was angry. I was embarrassed. I asked, why did you bring me here, God? It didn’t feel like courage, it felt a lot more like foolishness.

I started practicing viola again and won some orchestra gigs. I worked hard to make friends and connect with people, but it wasn’t easy. I changed day jobs and took a big leap forward in my marketing career.

*My favorite place on earth, looking out over Lake Travis near Spicewood.*

In July, I went back to Houston to see friends and took a road trip up to Lake Travis with one of my longtime BFF’s Andrea. We rested, read books, hung out in the pool, and it felt good to be home. She made me pick myself up off the floor and forced me to reactivate my match.com account. I determined that my profile was much too interesting and deleted about 80% of it, leaving a description that essentially said “I like to go fishing and have fun.”

It was crickets for months, I got no messages. Eventually one guy wrote me a message about fishing. I didn’t see anything too exciting about his profile, but I also had no friends and nothing else going on, so I went with it. We talked on the phone a lot, and had some great conversations. He was a teacher, and I was raised by teachers so it felt normal. I made a lot of interesting excuses not to meet up, but it got to the point where it was weird not to so I generously offered to show up at 9pm on a Tuesday night after beach volleyball. I arrived at Applebee’s covered in sand and sweat with no makeup on, because that’s how much I cared about this first date. It was awkward and uncomfortable, so we went our separate ways and I thought, “I’ll never see that guy again.”

*The location of our first date, a really classy joint with American cuisine that wasn’t too inconvenient on the way home from indoor beach volleyball.*

By the end of that week I could not shake the feeling that I had really screwed that up, so I called him. We kept talking, and saw each other again. I asked him, “why do you keep calling me?” He told me to call him when I felt like talking.

It grew slowly from there. It wasn’t “perfect on paper” the way I had sized up and assessed every date I had ever been on before. He wasn’t Lutheran or tall or Norwegian. I swore I wouldn’t date divorced guys or guys with kids. I still smoked cigarettes back then and he swore he’d never date a smoker, and somehow he looked past it. I had no friends in Seattle and no money and not much else to offer. But it was in that deep darkness that the light started to shine.

Woodroe knew the bible. We could talk for hours and he never bored me. He loved his daughter mightily and his family was his primary social circle. He was thoughtful and kind to me. He had gone to college in Texas and wasn’t opposed to moving back someday. I was able to take him everywhere in my world, he’d go to orchestra concerts and to art exhibits, to dive bars and to upscale restaurants. He just fit and it was so easy.

Our first Seahawks game, where I realized I would have to become a Seahawks fan and move the Texans and Vikings to secondary positions in my heart.

We got married a year later and lived in North Bend, Washington until we moved back to Texas in 2013. Life in Washington was hard, we were house poor and depressed and I always knew in my heart that I wanted to be back in Texas. North Bend is a dark place 30 miles east of Seattle where the rain clouds get stuck against the mountains, where Twin Peaks was filmed and bizarre things happen in the woods. Our seven years living in the “Bermuda Triangle of Washington” were filled with many more challenges, blessings and victories, and is another blog post for another time.

It took courage to leave that life behind too. But Texas had my heart, and when my husband’s school permanently closed, the door swung wide open for us to make the move.

I had already moved across the country twice before, so I knew that all we had to do was get in the car and go.

In September 2017, we were blessed by the greatest joy of my life, our baby girl Kari. Her name (you know, like the babysitter’s name in The Incredibles) means “pure in spirit.” Seven months later, my brother and his girlfriend welcomed their baby boy, proving my sister’s Thanksgiving prediction wrong again.

Only now in hindsight can I see how much courage it took to make these moves and what God’s marvelous plan was.

Courage starts with hope. You cannot hear if you don’t listen, and it’s in that place between hope and action that courage lives and propels us forward. It wasn’t about the courage I needed to become a wife or a mother. It was about finding the courage to listen to the Holy Spirit and having the faith to move forward even when the moves looked risky or crazy.

It is as simple as saying, “I’m listening.”

Essay by: Eva Sheie Kiser

To read more about Eva and stay in touch, click here.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 9/18/18 Catia Holm 9/18/18

The Courage to Become | Shani Montique-Ahmad

In the Beginning

I met my husband watching a live band in the garage of some condo in East Austin, years ago. I was completely over being in a relationship and almost didn’t attend the event that changed my life. I hate to say that the cliché is true, but when you’re not looking for your life partner your match will find you. That night it was all about me having a good time with friends and then he showed up. After a double date eating some really hot Thai food at Madam Ma’am’s with runny noses, we found it difficult to not be together. Soon thereafter, he discovered that band-life wasn’t for him and I realized that working retail and weekends was not my calling. We eventually wised-up, got a game plan that would bond us forever, and executed.

When we decided to spend the rest of our lives together, I wouldn’t have dared to compare our union to a race to the finish line. We met when I was 27 years old, nearly 28, and my husband was 31. We got married three years later. Before we said, “I do”, we tackled through all the hard topics like lifestyle, religion, politics, business, and child rearing, which I’m sure extended our courtship. For us, raising a child is one of the most important duties a person will ever have in their lifetime so settling any differences was crucial. As equipped as we thought we were in our efforts to avoid marital complications, we were ill-prepared for the emotional roller coaster of infertility.

Twenty Minutes After

Excitement was the feeling we both felt when, in the Fall of 2013, I became pregnant.

We broke all the rules of keeping our mouths shut and soon told all our close friends and family. I knew that I had fibroids, but a few of my aunts and cousins on both sides of the family did too and, with some complications, were able to bear children. Naturally, I was very prepared for a few bumps in the road until I gave birth. My OBGYN monitored me very closely. The fibroids had grown quickly and feasted on the boost of estrogen in my body. I began to notice a large bulge gradually protruding near my right hip. Towards the end of my first trimester, I was ordered to go on bed rest for a few days. On a Sunday, I was released to start work the coming Monday and I was relieved that possibly the worst was behind me. Twenty minutes after my husband left for work I became VERY scared. My body started experiencing the excruciatingly painful process of miscarriage.

I instinctively wanted to be prepared for the worst. I researched all the symptoms of suffering miscarriage while on bed rest, not expecting that I would soon live the tragedy. The pain was sharp like a knife to the lower abdomen, which forced me to immediately fold forward. I started symptomatically sweating and could hardly speak when I called 911 to rescue me. I managed to get an ambulance and very slowly inched to the front door doubled over in agonizing pain to avoid the paramedics breaking my window or door; left the door wide open and went to lay down.

The long morning ride to the hospital regarding fertility issues was not going to be my last. As much as I dislike taking medication, I begged the paramedic in a forced whisper for “more drugs” to take the pain away. Terminology like Dilation and Curettage (D&C) and Laparoscopic Myomectomy soon became very familiar. In the last four years, I have had three of each surgery. My fourth and most recent pregnancy in January of 2018 following the In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) procedure was a short-lived celebration that lasted only six days. I was diagnosed with a life-threatening ectopic pregnancy and given methotrexate twice to terminate the stubborn pregnancy. I had side effects of acute uterine pain and blood loss. After all the nausea, the medication, the needles, the weight gain, the constant blood withdrawals for lab testing, the hormones, and the surgeries… I was exhausted.

Surviving Through Purpose

It’s uplifting when you can find happiness even when you’re going through the most trying times.

My husband and I own and operate the Franklin Music Academy, a private business, in Austin teaching mostly children music lessons at our home studio and this has been the anchor in our relationship. After the newness of marriage is over and all you’re left with is each other, I guess it’s easy for people to get wrapped up in child rearing, a career, or some hobby, but for us it’s our business that forces us to communicate and work out our problems. The irony to dedicate our lives in educating other people’s children and not have our own is mind-blowing. In hindsight, I have realized that finding purpose through the business has been my strength and lifeline. Almost 5 years of infertility and upset has only been bearable knowing that I am contributing to my husband’s happiness teaching music and creating an environment that nurtures child development.

During our journey to expand our family, it was difficult to see parents with their kids at our house, but surprisingly our clients helped us cope. They were a nice distraction that kept us very busy. As I grew more comfortable sharing my infertility story outside of friends and family, I discovered that we were not alone. Due to the complications that IVF brought, we decided that this would no longer be a viable option as we needed to ensure our frozen embryos would still be able to bring us a family. Amazingly, one of our clients came forward and offered to be our compassionate gestational surrogate.

The feeling was undeniably magical when our client announced to be our carrier. We felt like we had hit the lottery especially considering the fact that our thoughtful client did not want to be compensated outside of paying for her medical bills. We made all the proper arrangements with our fertility clinic and waived her fees for music lessons for her kids. Unfortunately, after 2 months of preparation, we were told that our client was not a good fit for surrogacy.

Determined to Keep Going

It was hard to let go of the lady that thought so highly of us. It takes a special person to take on the great responsibility of surrogacy. Surrogacy is a self-less act that requires a strong mind and a heart as big as Texas. To assist in bringing a child into someone else’s family is a sacrifice of time and energy and we will be forever grateful to the next person that selects us as the intended parents. We still believe the best method to minimize the risk of miscarriage is to have a gestational surrogate and, this time, we are going through a surrogacy agency to find a carrier.

Choosing this route shouldn’t indicate that I have given up on wanting to have kids naturally one day. Nowadays, I have been diligently working on healing myself from the inside out through food, which is the best medicine. Agreeing to do IVF is a very involved self-sacrificial process that tests your sanity, your relationship, and your financial nest egg. The hormones make you testy and moody, seclusive, and have side-effects that can make you more prone to illnesses, including cancer. I am not suggesting that IVF shouldn’t be considered as an alternative to having children, but people should be aware that this procedure is very taxing. Now that I am off all the medications, I can focus on diet and exercise and doing the things that make me happy.

It may sound odd to continue our journey considering our history, but why should we give up? After you have afforded all the things you want and lived your life doing and seeing everything you desire, what then? When you’re old and gray and lying flat on your back, all of those things won’t matter. You’ll be too weak to enjoy them anyway. A child is a gift that keeps giving when their bright smiling face comes to visit you until your last breath.

My husband and I planned our life to marry, enjoy each other, and a few years later start a family. We started a business, bought a house, paid off our debts, and grew our emergency funds to support our baby. All the required ingredients of stability, love, and a two-parent household fostering fun and education has been properly laid out. Our dream of expanding our family will not expire until we have our baby by hook or by crook and we are eager to one day enjoy a family with children to love and nurture.

Essay by: Shani Montique-Ahmad

You can connect with Shani at Franklin Music Academy on Facebook and Instagram

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

2-catia-hernandez-holm-tedx-speaker-author-the-courage-to-become-boo.jpg

Catia Holm 9/3/18 Catia Holm 9/3/18

The Courage to Become | Andi Franklin

What I remember, is the silence. The dimly light dining room. My knees on the chair cushion and arms draped over its back, clutching a $25 Target gift card I had gotten as an early birthday present. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.

He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.

I don’t know how long I was there, staring and waiting and convincing myself that he would show. But finally, I felt my mother’s gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Its time to go to bed, sweetie. I’m sure he just got caught up.”

Looking back, I think of my mom and hard that must have been for her. I think of how long she pondered what to say to her bright-eyed little girl who sat in a window all night waiting for her dad to show up and take her shopping for her 7th birthday. I wonder if she knew how far gone he was, I wonder if she saw it coming.

That night marked the beginning of my biological father’s exit strategy. I can only remember seeing him one other time in passing before he was gone for good. He never said goodbye. He never told me why. He was just, gone.

My mom explained that he was in the clutch of drugs and alcohol, but I wasn’t buying it. Deep down I knew the real reason he left⏤me.

This belief coursed through my veins and spread in my body like a cancer. Each year that passed I would get sicker and sicker, subconsciously convinced that his love was the cure. Meanwhile, in my conscious mind, I became obsessed with finding him.

The reason changed with each season in my life.

At the tender age of seven, I simply wanted him to come home to me. I loved him, missed him, and didn’t care about the rest. But as a new year turned, so would my feelings toward this elusive man. Emotions? I’ve felt them all. I think that is kind of expected when you are abandoned.

But what surprises me now, is how I let that single event in my life take the driver seat and dictate every future relationship.

My story of becoming, lies here—in the gaping wounds of a woman who spent over 20 years of her life looking for love, when love had been hers all along.

My quest to fill the void of my biological father’s love sent me down twisted, untended, shadowy trails.

It got to the point where I would push for young men to leave me around my birthday because I had convinced myself it was going to happen anyway.

Somehow, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:

Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.

He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.

I would always see it coming, but I would sit and wait anyway.

The leaving. The betrayal. The heartbreak.

My deep longing for love led me into the clutches of manipulation. Young men knew how to work a broken girl, and one in particular was so skilled that it took me weeks to realize he had raped me.

“But did you say no?”

Yes.

“But did you try to fight him off?”

Yes.

“And yet, you still didn’t realize you had been raped?”

No.

Trauma has a funny way of doing that to a person. Especially when it roots back to your childhood and incessant need to be loved.

Fortunately, I clawed my way out of that hell and found myself on the other side. The side that could sit in a space with other women who had gone through it and say, “me too, and I’m here for you.”

I met a man who wasn’t afraid of me and my baggage. A man who refused to leave me around my birthday, despite my many attempts to sway him otherwise.

We fell in love, got married, and therein lies the happy ending, right?

I sure thought so.

I had actively convinced myself that I was cured.

Healed! Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!

I thought the void had been filled and I went on with my merry way with life.

Until the day I finally had to come face to face with him.

Meeting my biological father again for the first time in 18 years was terrifying.

It was my grandfather’s 80th birthday and my father had been clean and sober for about six months, so the family allowed him to come to the event and notified us that he would be there.

I was five months pregnant with my first son.

Palms sweaty, face flushed.

Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.

I brought a notebook full of letters, songs, and poems I had written to him throughout the years. I was going to give it to him and show him the pain he had caused.

But when I saw him, I couldn’t do it.

This man, so broken and fragile. Petrified of us—his grown children.

My heart no longer hurt for just me, it hurt for him too.

And so the notebook stayed with me and I left that birthday party, heart still guarded, but softened.

He managed to stay clean for another year and a half and was even invited to my brother’s wedding. Then suddenly, he was gone again. Back into the warm arms of alcohol and Methamphetamine—his oldest friends, and closest enemies.

When I found out, I decided I was done with him for good. I wiped my hands clean, threw them in the air, and proclaimed that I was whole, and didn’t need him.

And yet, no matter what, I would always find myself back where I started:

Seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.

He’ll be here. He’ll be here. He promised he would take me, so he’ll be here.

Three and a half years had passed since I had seen or heard from him and then, my grandpa died.

I knew he would be at his father’s funeral, but I also knew he was on drugs and I was terrified of seeing him like that.

I stepped out of the truck at Green Acres Cemetery, not knowing what to expect.

Palms sweaty, face flushed.

Don’t you cry, Andrea. You’ve gotta stay strong for your brother.

But he never showed. And it was there, at the celebration of my grandpa’s life, that my becoming shifted.

I found out from my cousin that my father was homeless, living on a dirt road somewhere in the desert.

A rumble stirred within me.

Homeless.

I couldn’t accept this. I heard it echoing in my mind for days.

Homeless.

And so, I knew I needed to do something.

I talked to my husband and told him I really wanted to bring a care pack of sorts to my father. You know, toiletries and snacks and things that may help. I knew it wasn’t much, but I also knew it was better than nothing.

But first, I needed to know how to get to him. I decided to send him a facebook message and ask him if what I heard was true.

No response.

Then, an epiphany.

I was lying in bed next to my husband when I became.

I need to tell him I forgive him. Because, I do. I forgive him. And I need to tell him I love him. Because, I do. I love him. And I always have.

Then, another epiphany.

My entire life, I have thought that I needed his love to fill the void in my heart, when in truth, it is MY love that I have wanted to give to him this entire time.

There aren’t adequate enough words to describe this moment.

23 years in the making, I finally discovered my truth:

Conditional love is not who I am. My love is mine to give, and I don’t need someone to love me back in order to give them my love.

That, is unconditional love. And that, is what my soul has always wanted to give to my father.

I sent another message and this time, I told him I loved him and forgave him, without expecting anything in return.

Still, no response.

Then, I sent him this:

I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And I’ll probably tell you that every week from now on, whether you reply or not, because I want you to know that there is still someone living and breathing on this earth that loves and cares for you.

And every Thursday for the past three months I have done just that.

Since then, I was able to see him. My husband and I made the hour and a half drive to the dirt road he’s living on to bring him some things.

He’s created a house of sorts out of an abandoned trailer he found. He scavenges with his girlfriend and they both do drugs.

But, I still love him.

We chatted and laughed and I promised that next time we come, I would stay for a while and catch up more.

He will never be the father I dreamed up in my mind and he may never get clean and sober again.

But I’m no longer seven years old. Curtains peeled back, street lights on, and a cul-de-sac full of cars that were in for the night.

Now, I am a thirty-year-old woman. Eyes peeled open, natural light flooding in, and a heart full of unconditional love that I’m ready to give, freely.

I’ll be there. I’ll be there. I promised myself I would love fully, so I’ll be there.

Essay by: Andi Franklin

You can find more of Andi's writings on Facebook, Instagram and on her website Andi Franklin.

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 8/28/18 Catia Holm 8/28/18

The Courage to Become | Jenna Zielbauer

Hi y’all! My name is Jenna Zielbauer, I am a 30 something mother of 2 living the dream in Austin, TX with my husband, tots, and high maintenance French bulldog. Our family moved to Texas from Chicago a little over a year ago and we never looked back! Just in case things weren't crazy enough from moving across the country on a whim, I went and invented RockEase™, the first compact & portable device that converts any standard 4-legged chair into a rocking chair for use as both a travel rocking chair and nursery rocking chair. RockEase™ can be installed in as little as 20 seconds. RockEase™ is patent pending!

What was one thing you always dreamt of doing, were afraid to do, but did anyway?

I have always dreamed of being my own boss. Perhaps it stems from my desire to work on my own terms, flex my creative and innovative muscles whenever I want, and/or wanting to be a strong powerhouse female in the working world. Whatever “it” is, I've always been driven to find gaps in the marketplace and give it a shot. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't, but you gotta try.

I didn’t always have aspirations to become an inventor, but out of desperation when traveling with my then-3-month-old, I invented a baby product that will become a sanity-saver for both new and seasoned parents. Taking the leap forward to act on this invention was absolutely terrifying. The thought of failing: letting early investors down; letting myself down; my family down; losing the hard earned money that has gone in to the project - is enough to keep anyone from moving forward (and lying awake at night once they've done so). But the confidence I have in the product combined with the feedback I have gotten from parents is enough to propel me onward, even when I am questioning everything.

How did it feel getting started?

It felt liberating but also very scary. So much is on the line for me both financially and mentally - it's more than enough to make someone not take that next step forward. But if you believe in what you are doing, the product you are bringing to market, and even just yourself as an entrepreneur, it will get you through those tough times.

Tell us about some of the obstacles you faced when you got started starting your own business.

One of the first engineering companies we worked with did a really poor job implementing our vision; we had such a negative experience that we asked for money back. The owner of the company then told me that he bought www.jennazielbauer.com (as a threat, as if he would do something with it). It was the most insane thing ever. He ended up giving us money back and turning over the the domain — but it was bizarre, and we learned a lot about what to look for in strategic partners as a result of this strange experience.

What motivates you to move forward.

Being an entrepreneur, the highs are high and the lows are low. Without fail, when I’m going through a dark moment, I’ll receive an email or Instagram DM from a prospective buyer telling me how much RockEase will change their life as a parent or how much they need it ASAP. Hearing from prospective buyers how much we will impact their lives as parents keeps me going.

Which living person do you most admire?

To be totally honest I admire any entrepreneurial mother out there hustling Monday - Sunday. The sole job of being a mother is by far the hardest job of all. You combine that with the stressors (physically, mentally, financially) of owning your own business and it’s enough for anyone to cash in their chips. I admire those that keep going, regardless of how hard it gets. It’s inspiring for their children, their friends and other mompreneurs admiring from afar (like me!).

Which talent would you most like to have?

The ability to make anyone laugh. Just like rocking triggers a calming response in the parasympathetic nervous system, laughing decreases stress and triggers the release of endorphins (the body’s natural feel-good chemicals). Laughter is truly the best medicine and I wish I had to ability make more more people laugh. There is some good stand-up comedy in ATX, maybe I need to get out there? ;)

What is your most marked characteristic?

I have been told over and over that I am a great utility player, meaning this: Assign me a task and walk away - doesn't matter what it is - you can trust me to get the job done. I don't need direction, I don't need my hand held, I only need to know what the end result needs to be, and for you to trust that I will deliver.

What is your motto?

"Embrace the Chaos" - my husband and I adopted this as our "theme quote" before our first child was born. We decided than in those tough parenting moments, when all hell is breaking loose, to just embrace it. Embrace everything about it. Because one day you'll wish you could have that moment back.

What are some things you are proud to have accomplished?

Most obviously my two adorable children, my apparel line Casual Friday that was in 350+ stores within a year and profitable within months of launching, developing RockEase when all it was was a drawing on a napkin, and successfully moving cross country with our family to put our roots down in Texas.

What keeps you going when you feel like you are knee deep in mud?

As far as work goes, knowing how many lives I will change for the better keeps me charging forward. And at home I rely on my tribe when I’m having those dark moments. I have a great circle of friends, all so different in their personalities, but I know who I can turn to when when I am feeling stuck and they’ll always guide me out.

What’s one piece of advice you’d give to women who are about to embark on the journey you are on?

Make sure you are putting your resources into something you are truly passionate about. Find a great support network who will pull you up when you feel stuck or down, and who will truly be happy (not jealous) when you succeed. Overestimate your expenses and costs, use the cloud to stay organized, and Google, Google, Google - there is a TON of great, free information out there.

Essay by: Jenna Zielbauer

Stay in touch with Jenna and Rockease at Rockease.com // Facebook // Instagram

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 8/17/18 Catia Holm 8/17/18

The Courage to Become | Reagan Corbett #reagART

Hi! My name is Reagan Corbett, I am twenty-four years old and a full time artist from Houston, TX. When I say artist, I mean that I am a creator of sorts, but primarily people recognize me as painter. Although my paintings are what put me on the map, I truly believe that art, and being an artist is more than what you see on the canvas.

Growing up, the one of the things I dreamt of doing was literally being good at something. Whatever that “something” was, I knew it wasn’t going to come easy.

As the middle sister of three girls, I never knew what exactly my “thing” was. I was never the smartest girl in the class, never the best athlete on the team, and honestly never the most talented student in my art classes; but I was always the hardest worker….and I think I get that quality from my dad, which I admire him for.

So I guess my dream, in a way, was to stand out...to be seen differently than so-and-so’s little sister or someone's daughter, but rather someone who was recognized and admired for their talents and accomplishments.

I guess my desire to “stand out”, came from knowing I wasn’t spectacular at anything, and in turn, made me afraid of almost nothing. What did I have to lose? If I tried and worked my hardest at the things that remotely interested me, something good would eventually happen-- and it did.

In the spring of 2012 I was accepted to the College of Fine Arts at the University of Texas at Austin, and decided to fully embrace the next four years of my creative journey by attending UT’s College of Fine Arts. I learned a ton from my professors, studied abroad, and made exponential strides in my quantified skill level as an artist. Fast-forward to senior year of college, I had learned a lot and loved (almost) all my classes, but had no clue as to what I would be doing post graduation. I researched tons of jobs that would allow me to exercise my creativity, but nothing seemed to “feel right”. I was lost. As senior year was coming to an end I decided I needed to do something with all of the giant paintings I had created over the past few years, so I posted them on Facebook and BOOM, the messages starting pouring in. Out of nowhere a career path came into sight-- people were no longer just complimenting my work, but they wanted to buy it. I was prompted by a friend to start a separate Instagram account (@reag_art) solely dedicated to showcasing my work. I took her advice and “ReagART” was born.

As easy as that sounds, getting started was scary and hard. Right as ReagART was taking off, my life drastically changed. I graduated from college and had to move back home with my parents, lost my studio space, lost group critiques, lost my woodshop, lost the advice of my professors, and just about everything else that made ReagART “work”. After searching for numerous studios around town in Houston, I finally find someone who was willing to take a chance on a twenty-two year old artist with no credit score. After signing the lease, I remember walking into my first studio and thinking, hopefully I can sell a painting to pay next month’s rent. It was the fear of failure, losing my dream of sharing art with the world, and self-disappointment that motivated me to work the hardest I ever had, and still do today.

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It’s been almost three years since I first started my career as a professional artist in Houston, and there is no doubt that if I did not work as hard as I did then, and do today, I would not be sitting here writing about the courage to become, because there would be no story to tell.

Right now, the living person I admire the most is my dad. As cheesy and predictable as that sounds he too is an entrepreneur and has unintentionally made me the worker, dreamer and schemer I am today! He’s the type of guy that leads by example, and always has the best advice.

A talent I would most like to have… I’m changing the question to a superpower I would most like to have, and that would be the ability to freeze time. I often find myself stressed, overwhelmed, and full of anxiety because there aren’t enough hours in the day. If I could freeze time, savor the moments (big or small) and get all of my work done… I might be the happiest girl on earth.

My most marked characteristic is drive and commitment to my craft. This job is not for the faint of heart. I hold myself accountable to only being as good as the efforts I put into my work, and with that mentality comes with a lot of sacrifices. Late nights, early mornings, not seeing friends, not seeing family, a lacking social life, no time for a romantic relationship, etc. It’s a trade-off, and a balancing act when I can manage it-- but for the most part my work is my life and that always comes first. If I didn’t fully believe and embrace that mentality, I know my story would be significantly different.

I have to admit that I have fallen victim to the act of comparison, so I am constantly reminding myself of the motto, “the grass is always greener”. I can’t help but envy people who get to leave the office at 5, and literally do not even have to think about work until they come back the next day. I mean that sounds pretty amazing, and somedays I would give anything for that….but then I remember, why I do what I do, and why being an artist works for me. It fulfills me, and makes me feel like I am doing my part in a society where everyone is different.

Working hard day in and day out isn’t always the most pleasurable experience, but this is all part of the bigger picture and I am confident that one day it will all pay off.

First and foremost, I am proud that I am entering my third year of being a full time artist. I am proud that I am an artist for me, and not because someone told me to. I am proud that I hosted my first solo exhibition at the age of twenty-three, and I am proud that my first ever public speech was a TED talk!

When things are looking really bad and not going well, I have to think about all that I have accomplished so far, and know that whatever this terrible moment is, it can’t be the end. I don’t know what my story is in full, or how it will end up, but I know that it won’t end on a bad note or because I was forced out. Another huge motivational force that keeps me going are my collectors and the people that have continued to support me and my career-- letting them down, would be my greatest fear; so giving up is simply not an option.

To any women out there who are about to embark on the journey of becoming an artist I have some words of advice:

Do not let the fear of the unknown stop you, instead let it fuel you to create your own path
Be confident in yourself and in your work, there will ALWAYS be someone who tries to tell you otherwise.
Do it for the passion, not the money
Take all the advice you can get
You are your biggest motivation. Whatever it takes-- get it done!

Essay by: Reagan Corbett

Instagram: @reag_art #reagART

All the art featured was created by Reagan Corbett and if you love it, (which why wouldn't you?) go on over to her Website and browse!

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 8/17/18 Catia Holm 8/17/18

The Courage to Become | Takisha Shelby

My name is Takisha Shelby, I was born and raised in Lubbock, Texas. The Lord blessed me to see 41 years this past 3rd of February. I'm very thankful for that.

Looking back over my life, I can see how the Lord has played a role in it the whole time. I have been through a lot my 41years living on this earth, but I give all the glory to none other than that man above my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

My story of becoming begins about 15 years ago, I was about 26 years old working two jobs. My full-time job at Lubbock Independent School District as a Special Education Teaching Assistant and my part-time job as a Food service worker. I was no stranger to hard work back then and still not to this day.

It was the weekend after working my full-time job I was at my part-time job. I had been dealing with a headache the whole day I thought it was a sinus headache. I had also gotten suspended the rest of the weekend from my part-time job because of some attitude issues I was having.

Only to find out it was all due to what was going on with me physically and medically.

I was supposed to go out that night but didn't due to my headache. I ate me something, thinking that would help but it didn't so I took me some allergy medicine, decided against going out and went to bed. I was awakened in the early morning hours by a bad headache. My head was hurting me so bad to the point I was crying.

The guy I was seeing at the time told my mom he was going to take me to the hospital, which he did. At the hospital, after running some tests and waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the doctors came out and told us what was going on.

By this time my mom had come up there, the doctors had told us that I had a tumor on my brain, in fact; I have several tumors on my brain(looking like little snowflakes all over my brain) but the one they were worried about was the one which was blocking the plumbing and was causing me to have the headache.

The doctor said that it was unusual because it had fluid around it, they would have to admit me into the hospital, go in and put tubes in my head to drain the fluid from my brain before they would be able to do the actual brain surgery to remove the actual tumor causing the problem.

So now, I'm about to be admitted into the hospital because the situation is serious.

They put the tubes in my head so that the fluid could be drained off my brain. A few days later they did the actual brain surgery. The surgery was supposed to take about 17 hours but ended up taking about 11 hours, but God.

Thinking back to that time, I know that the Lord was with me, because after the surgery I was able to see my mama for a few minutes and once I saw her although they had given me medication to sedate me I knew she was there and I was pretty much aware of everything going on around me.

I remember her telling me that she couldn't stay long, and she would see me later.

When she told me that I wasn't trying to let her go, they ended up asking her to leave so I could get some rest, giving me more medication so I could get me some rest.

About a week and a half later, I was out of the hospital on my way to recovery.

I can honestly say that if it wasn't for God bringing through that situation I wouldn't be here right to this day. I feel this more so now at this point in my life than I ever did before. It was by God's grace and mercy that I didn't have to have any therapy only a little speech therapy.

After the surgery because the area where it had occurred was affected, I wasn't able to form complete thoughts; leading us up to that point. After all that had taken place, look at God! Until now I never in a million years would have thought I would be where I am.

This was the beginning of my spiritual journey. I thank God daily that He has blessed me to see another day up to this point. I have always stood on His Word, in Philippians 4:13, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, which is my motto; and the basis of my faith.

It took me a while to move on after the surgery, thanks be to God!

It was only the summer that I was out of work, I was able to return to work at Lubbock Independent School District after that. Praise God!

If there was any advice I had to give to anyone going through this or someone who have gone through anything like this, it would be to hold on to your faith. Pray, pray, and if it still feels hopeless pray some more.

If there is one thing that I have learned throughout this whole experience it is this: Prayer changes things. I know that, without any doubt in my mind.

Just as I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me your readers too can do all things through Christ who strengthens them.

Essay by: Takisha Shelby

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 8/7/18 Catia Holm 8/7/18

The Courage to Become | Jill Faulkner

“Listening to your heart is not simple. Finding out who you are is not simple. It takes a lot of hard work and courage to get to know who you are and what you want. - Sue Bender”

Working on myself is the hardest work I have done to date, and the most worthwhile. But seriously, the hardest. Embarking on the journey of changing who I was at my core, which was really un-becoming my current self to get back to who I was meant to be, started a long time ago, and will continue until I die. Perhaps morbid, but also true. Self-work, like change, is constant. And YOU are the constant in your life. Realizing that this person (me) is all I have, and all I need, fueled my desire to live my best life. This is not to say that I do not have family and friends and support, or want all of those relationships in my life, but I control my happiness, I create my life.

As I have shifted my thinking, and perspective, I hope to encourage people to do the same. I want people to shift how they think. How they think about themselves, their lives, others, and the world around them. The shift is so magical. Daunting, and challenging, but the results are awesome. I wouldn’t be here, right now, in this moment, even writing this, had I not buckled in for the ride of a lifetime. Pursuing a life I desire. Becoming more of who I am meant to be. Stepping into a life destined to be mine.

There will always be ups and downs, which is how I got here, and maybe that’s how you got here, too. My life, and my business, Stick With It Co., were born out of a need to remind myself of how I was worthy of living the life I wanted. I needed to evolve my mindset, and my framework, and love myself so fiercely that no matter what outside forces swirled around me I stayed solid and steady. I craved the tools and sought out resources - so, countless books, YouTube videos, meditations, mantras, workshops, yoga classes, sticky-notes, therapy, and a whole lotta Oprah later, here we are.

Picture it, Austin, TX, 2015. Word of the year: Freedom. I don’t know how it came to me, or where I was, but it was my word for the year. I didn’t know at the time what I was looking for freedom from, or seeking freedom toward, but it was my word. Looking back, I also don’t know whether or not I consciously made decisions that year with “freedom” as my guide, or if it seeped into my subconscious and led the way without me realizing it. Cut to March of 2015, new job. Freedom? Cut to November 2015, fired. FREEDOM. Being let go was not a “blessing in disguise” - it was a straight up, in your face, here’s your freedom, girl. Now, what are you gonna do with it? It took almost the whole year, but here was freedom staring me in the face. I was free. Free from stress, emotionally free, and free to tap into what I really wanted to do. I was able to let go. And it was okay. I was okay. I knew it would be okay. All the stickies I had on my bathroom mirror, and kitchen cabinets got me here. In life, things are never in our desired timing, we have to give that up, let go of timing, and trust in the process.

I now had time to think about my life in a bigger way. It felt great. I also acknowledge and hold extreme gratitude for the fact that I was in a position to be able to take two weeks to just be, and figure some stuff out. In that time, I started iterating on a product, and names, and ideas, and all of the things. How could I get the concept of affirmations, and self-love to the masses? So, I just got started. Handwriting 50 different affirmations on sticky notes. Packaging them up, changing the packaging, and giving them away - to friends, family, strangers. The reactions were always positive and encouraging, which emboldened me to keep at it.

At the beginning of December (2015) a job opportunity sort of fell into my lap, and well, mama needed a paycheck, so back to work I went. Continuing to pursue Stick With It Co. on the side worked out for some time, but I wanted more. So, about a year later, I quit my job. Scary, freeing, vomit-inducing, glorious, unknown, and wonderful all at the same time. I wanted to give this business the love and focus it deserved, but it wasn’t even ever about me. It’s about you. This business is happening through me, for greater purpose.

There is a need for people to see the power of their words and statements. Especially in the world within which we exist today. We must be intentional with our words, especially the words we speak about ourselves and our lives.

Self-love, self-approval, self-accountability, self-compassion, and self-respect will generate a solid connection with yourself, allowing connections with others, driving you forward with courage, while welcoming authenticity, resilience, and support into your life.

There’s been a lot of change recently for me. Picking up some event contract work, not working on the business as intensely as I was planning to, general life happenings - you know how it goes. Physical/locational changes, and you better believe emotional - ALL the emotions. Changing, learning, experiencing, letting go, surrendering, and forging ahead.

When all these things happen on their own, I imagine life might be a bit less stressful to handle. Throw all these sizable changes into a ring together, at the same time, and they’re ducking and weaving, and throwing punches you’re not always ready for - then it can be quite the ruckus. But, change is good. Change is needed. Change is like sandpaper - rough while it’s doing its life’s work, transforming and addressing some splinters, but on the other side you’re grateful to have gone through the pain to get to a better, smoother, less splintery place.

I’m not sure I got too off the mark with the sandpaper bit, but it just popped in my brain and I went with it. The point is, change can be painful. It hurts. Sometimes you don’t know why it’s happening, and sometimes you never find out why it did, but you have to trust it’s for the greater purpose for your life. All the changes are for reason. Maybe that reason is you just learn to love yourself a little more than the day before.

I believe the desire for human connection, with ourselves, and with others, is innate, and if we work to push aside the societally driven, culturally manipulated “things” that get in the way of connecting, we are on our way to living an authentic, and purposeful life. Being an open book, sharing my journey, sometimes whether or not you asked, and sometimes a little TMI, has proven time and again that we are such similar creatures and have so much to offer each other. Through connection, we not only discover the lives and journeys of others, we also learn a lot about ourselves.

I have certainly had my moments, and sometimes 24-seemingly infinity hours, of living in fear in which I am paralyzed, and therefore lack direction, and action. In those days I forgive myself, I acknowledge and thank fear for letting me know something I didn’t know before, and I work to find my way back to faith.

I consciously make a choice to live in faith. I have faith in the process of becoming, and unbecoming who I am, figuring out my purpose and place in this world, pursuing a life I am meant to live, feeling all of my feelings, and enjoying it all.

Stick With It to BE self-love, Stick With it to RELEASE fear, Stick With It to BE whoever, and whatever your heart desires. Stick With It to allow yourself to live your best life. Stick With It in order to un-become who you were to make space for change and embark on a journey of becoming that will astound you.

A customer from England sent an incredible letter, card, and polaroid photos of where she placed her affirmations in her home!

Essay by: Jill Faulkner

These days you can find Jill at: Stick With It Co // Instagram // Facebook

Hi there!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I wrote a book - The Courage to Become, I speak - TEDx #choosejoyordie, I coach, I mentor) are hope, joy and empowerment. I am all about big picture health and wellness.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

Catia Holm 7/16/18 Catia Holm 7/16/18

The Courage to Become | Jessica Rockowitz Fielder

My name is Jessica Rockowitz, and I’m a mom of three – Hayley (13), Colin (4), and Graham (2). When people first meet me, I usually have one or both of my boys in tow. They’ll often ask if I have other children – I’ve admittedly grown fond of the looks on their faces depicting sheer shock and sometimes horror when I inform them that I also have a teenager.

“But you look far too young to have a teenager!” they exclaim, taken aback. I smile and nod, now accustomed to this song and dance – and so my story begins.

My path to motherhood was one that I unexpectedly embarked upon at the ripe age of 17. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. As a straight A student with dreams of an Ivy League school and a career in medicine, I was supposed to spend my junior year of high school studying for the SATs and flipping through college guide books – not scrambling for extra money so I could scour eBay listings for gently used baby items because I could barely afford to put gas in my car.

When I was about six months pregnant, my mom told me about a young parent program that her friend had heard about on the radio. The program was through a traditional four-year college that had about six spots for young, unmarried parents to live on campus with their children. The program also included room and board, a meal plan, and childcare for a very discounted rate. There was a catch, though – the program was located across the country from my mom and sister, who were a big part of my support system at the time. I was afraid that I’d be unable to raise my daughter without them, but I also knew this was our best shot at the life I envisioned for us. As silly as it sounds, I had dreams of a house with a playscape, Disney World vacations, and overnight camp. When Hayley was just shy of nine months old, I loaded her and our giant suitcase onto the plane to embark on what would be a truly life changing journey for us.

I wish I could detail everything that happened during those years at college, but that would be a novel in and of itself. I graduated college with a 3.9 and a BS degree in Biotechnology, accepting a research position at Harvard University for that coming fall. My daughter was almost six at the time and truly thriving, and I was getting married that winter.

I remember that the week I graduated college, I cut my Food Stamps card into tiny pieces, so proud that I would be able to stand on my own two feet. We signed the lease on a gorgeous apartment right outside of Boston in a safe, beautiful school district. We were financially and emotionally thriving – life was good, and we were happy.

Despite this, something gnawed at me and continuously stirred this feeling in my heart that I was unfulfilled. I beat myself up about this on a regular basis. What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I satisfied with this beautiful life that I had worked so hard to create? I was always taught that the path to success looked something like this: attend the best college you can get into, land a great job, and work hard to climb up the career ladder. This was the linear path that I was on, so why was I so unhappy? I loved working with people and making a difference in their lives. In my current research position, this component of my passion was really lacking. On top of my work, I had been mentoring other teen parents and young moms for years, and it was a huge passion of mine. I told my husband that I wanted to go back to school to be an OB/GYN physician and work with young moms to educate and empower them. Life had other plans, though, and I decided to switch my career path from medicine to nursing in order to have a more flexible lifestyle because we wanted to grow our family.

Like always, I did my due diligence. I researched the best programs in the United States because just as my family had taught me, I wanted to strive for the best. I was accepted into and attended an Ivy League BSN/MSN Nursing Program. I was so proud of myself for getting in and worked hard to graduate and land what was my dream job at a low income OB/GYN clinic in downtown Philadelphia. I absolutely loved my patients. I was now a mom of two, and the working mom juggle was real. Still, I felt like I had reached an important milestone in my career and figured that the journey could only go up from here.

After a few months, that familiar feeling began to gnaw at me again as something stirred inside me and whispered, you’re not happy here. I found myself in tears on a daily basis and having a tough time getting out of bed each morning. I loved my job and my patients, but I couldn’t shake this perpetual feeling that something wasn’t right. What was wrong with me? I began to think that I was lazy and broken, and I just couldn’t figure out why I was feeling this pull to be away from what I had once again worked so hard to achieve.

While I was working in Philadelphia, I had also begun to dabble in the world of freelance writing. I signed up for a platform where I could find paying clients and began to take a deep dive into this space. I landed my first client for essentially pennies but was so thrilled that someone was paying me to write! I had always dreamt of being a writer and getting into marketing, but I was told that the world didn’t need more of us. It wasn’t lucrative or secure, and after all, I had a child to raise. Everyone persuaded me in the direction of stability, which equated to science and medicine. This was a huge reason why I had embarked on the path that I was on.

Now expecting our third (and last!) child together, my husband and I sat down one night when the kids were asleep. To this day, he still knows my heart more than anyone else in the world and is truly my best friend. He sensed that I felt the calling to not only be home for both of our kids, but to see where this career in writing could take me. I made the terrifying decision to leave the nursing profession that summer, when I was about 2 months pregnant with my now 2 year old. I never looked back, and so began my journey into the world of entrepreneurship.

----

As an adult and business owner who is constantly evolving and fine tuning my craft, I didn’t know what it meant to be an entrepreneur. From a young age, I was taught to work hard, go to college, and get a good paying job. There was no other path to success in life. It was no surprise that I felt completely broken when I didn’t fit that mold. I’d land amazing job after amazing job, only to feel empty several months into it, all passion and spark completely gone. I began to feel ashamed, and it took a huge toll on my self worth.

Now that I’m an adult, I realize all my feelings and emotions were due to the fact that quite simply, I was never meant to work for someone else. Knowing what I know now, I truly think sometimes that we are born as entrepreneurs but depending on the environment we grow up in, we don’t ever get the opportunity to realize it. Did you know that many intelligent, hard working entrepreneurs make some of the worst employees? We are the ones who have trouble with things like following authority and staying on task. I spent so much of my adult life believing that something was wrong with me, when really, I just wasn’t on the right path for me.

The most ironic part of this is that I work harder now for myself and my clients than I have in my entire life. I work more hours per week than my husband, and I love every crazy minute of it. This is what I was meant to do, but nobody had ever opened my eyes to the fact that there is an alternative to the traditional mindset of college and the corporate world.

I had always dreamt of being a writer and working in advertising and marketing, but I didn’t know what that looked like. When I left nursing, it was almost like the finality of the decision weighed heavily on my shoulders. I had just worked so hard and had gone into deep student debt for a degree I didn’t love. What did that say about me as a person? Where would I go from here?

Many people ask me how I got started in marketing since I don’t have a background in it. I was a marketing minor in college, but everything I learned then is obsolete now because of the rise of social media and digital marketing. The foundation remains the same, but the logistics are so different. When I first began freelance writing, a small start-up reached out to me and asked me to run their social media. Their premise was a safe, COPPA compliant social network for children. They offered me the position because in their words, “I was a good writer and also a mom, so I knew their audience.” Thinking that it could be a great opportunity, I took it. This was the tiny stepping stone that I needed to open bigger and better doors for myself. I was in the right place at the right time, and though the start-up ultimately failed, I then moved on to bigger and better clients who taught me even more about the incredible world of content strategy and social media marketing.

Today, I have my own digital media agency and work with clients that I love and admire. I have also recently gotten into photography and launched my own photography business that I think really compliments my agency and has sparked this newfound passion that I never knew existed. I’m so excited to see where it takes me.

I dedicate at least one hour per day to education, where I listen to podcasts, read articles, and improve my overall knowledge so I can best serve my clients and continue to grow. I have huge plans for my future and where I envision myself. Sometimes I find myself daydreaming about it, and it takes me back to those days where I thought that the only correct path in life was to choose a career from a handbook and spend your life inside that box. There’s nothing wrong with this, of course. As one of my close friends once told me, she watched her father own his own business and never have any boundaries, so she knew she wanted a position that she could walk away from at 5PM. There is so much happiness on both sides – it’s just about finding which side speaks to you, your passions, and your priorities.

Being a former teen parent, this transformation into who I am as a business owner and entrepreneur goes hand-in-hand with my transformation as a mother. I was so young when I had my daughter, and motherhood was not something I was welcomed into with open arms by those around me. In a way, I felt like I didn’t have permission to be happy and fulfilled in this role. I was supposed to struggle. It was supposed to be difficult. It wasn’t until I gave myself permission to be who I was – to leave a job that I had worked hard for, to have my second and third children – that I had the courage to really become the career woman and mom that I always felt I was meant to be, on my own terms.

I’m motivated each and every day by my family and by my desire to bring something unique and different to the world. I thrive on watching business owners reach their goals and fulfill their dreams. Being the one to help them get there is the most incredible and rewarding feeling that is almost indescribable. I no longer dread Mondays. In fact, I welcome them each week as I dive into my day’s work, able to drop it at a moment’s notice for a sick child or a school function. This is the life I dreamt of – and I’m living it.

I can’t sit here and pretend that it’s perfect, of course. I always joke that I have the best and worst of both worlds. It’s very true that I don’t have any boundaries. I work in early morning hours, late night hours, and on weekends. I work at nap time, bed time, and am guilty of using PBS Kids for a last minute sitter. Still, though, I wouldn’t change a thing. I have built this incredible lifestyle for myself, and I am so excited to see what’s next.

Here’s one thing I want young women everywhere to know –

there is no distinct path to success and happiness. It’s ok to be unsure about your future and what fuels you, even as an adult. It’s ok to feel fulfilled being a stay-at-home-mom, or not feel fulfilled as a stay-at-home-mom and know that you’re a better mom for your family when you work.

The path to joy is not linear, and you are not the victim of your own life.

If you want something, go out there and get it. There is enough for everyone, and don’t let any woman or person tear you down or talk you out of your dreams. Big risks can mean big failures, yes, but also big rewards – and is it ever a failure if we’re learning from it?

Essay by: Jessica Rockowitz Fielder

You can get in touch with Jessica here:

Jessica Rockowitz Photography Media Agency Facebook Instagram

Jessica captured this moment for us, and I love it!

Hi friend!

I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.

One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.

The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.

If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.

Nice to meet you!

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

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Shine your brightest,

Here’s what my first go with postpartum disorders felt like:

Here’s what postpartum depression felt like the second time around:

Useful questions for help for postpartum depression:

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