Rooted in the Unraveling
The Show That Broke Me Open (Again) – Reflections from a Photographer, Mother & Human
I love those shows.
You know the ones — the kind you binge in quiet hours while the world around you is still. The ones that creep under your skin, hold a mirror to your life, and whisper words that feel like they were written just for you.
For me, Parenthood is one of those shows.
I’ve just finished watching it for the second time.
The first was many moons ago — a time when I was painfully lost. It didn’t give me answers back then, but it did hand me the right questions. Watching it now, through the lens of all I’ve lived since, it cracked me open in new ways.
Take Max’s journey with autism. The way Peter Krause (Adam) and Monica Potter (Kristina) look at him — that deep ache in their eyes after a meltdown, the quiet heartbreak that so many wouldn’t even notice, let alone understand.
I know that look. I’ve worn that look.
It’s the ache of watching your child struggle in a world not built for them, and having to hold both the heartbreak and the hope.
Then there’s Julia (Erika Christensen), Sarah (Lauren Graham), and Kristina again — mothers, wives, women finding themselves in the mess and magic of it all. Their stories of building businesses, juggling parenthood, figuring out who they are outside of the roles they play. I saw myself in their chaos. In their strength. In their quiet unraveling and rebuilding.
And then came that scene. Zeek’s heart attack. The machines. The shock. The sterile panic of a hospital waiting room.
I’ve lived that too. I’ve seen someone I love lying lifeless. I’ve called for help. Done CPR. Held my breath as life slipped in and out before my eyes.
I thought I had buried that memory deep.
Turns out, stories find a way to surface what still needs to be felt.
And then the ending — the goodbye.
That final, sacred moment. The one we all know is coming.
We avoid thinking about it, but we will all wonder:
Did I do enough? Was my life what I hoped it would be? Did I love well? Did I live true?
I think I will be able to say yes.
Even if it were tomorrow.
This life I’m building — through my lens, my motherhood, my marriage, and my work — it’s all woven together.
It’s motherhood in its fiercest form.
It’s standing my ground, like Kristina did, in a system that so often misunderstands our children — choosing advocacy, connection, and the kind of love that rebuilds what’s been broken.
It’s being a wife to my soul mate, growing side by side through the wild and the wonderful.
It’s the steady presence of my chosen family — especially my in-laws, who have become anchors in my world.
And it’s the thread I still hold with my dad — even through all the discomfort of our past, there’s still a quiet kind of care there.
It’s Whimsy & Wonder — not just as a photography business, but as a way I connect, create, and hold space for stories that matter.
It’s the clients who become friends, the kindred spirits who remind me why I do this — adding to the circle of people I love deeply and warmly.
This life might be stitched together differently than most, but every part of it has been chosen with heart.
And it is mine — raw, real, and deeply rooted.
It’s choosing a life that’s a little less ordinary. A little more honest. A little more me.
Because at the end of it all — beneath the titles and roles — I am still just a woman learning to live with her whole heart.
One who sees the beauty in the ordinary.
One who captures the wonder in a fleeting moment.
One who, even amidst the chaos, is choosing to love deeply, and live fully.
And if you’re reading this — maybe you are too.
