Untangled Minds, LLC

05/21/2026

Phone down. Podcast paused. Music silent.

Today, I stepped away from my desk and ate my lunch outside. As I looked down at my half-eaten hot dog, I was suddenly reminded of an earlier season of my life working in community mental health case management.

Back then, my car was my second home. I ate meals there, completed paperwork, decompressed between visits, and sometimes just sat in silence trying to recharge before the next client. Gas station hot dogs became survival meals during long, exhausting days. And eventually, burnout caught up with me.

Now, in this season of life, I recognize those same patterns that can show up in maternal burnout and caregiver burnout too. When you spend so much time holding space for everyone else... nurturing, supporting, tending, carrying emotional labor, it becomes easy to abandon yourself in the process.

Your needs get pushed to the bottom of the list. You move through the day on autopilot. Presence turns into survival mode.

Today, instead of multitasking through lunch or scrolling to disconnect, I sat outside and allowed myself to fully experience the moment... the birds chirping, the smell of overgrown grass and dandelions, the cool breeze, the sound of passing cars. Just one small moment to reconnect with myself.

Burnout narrows our perception. It steals clarity. It convinces us that rest is unproductive and that slowing down means falling behind. But sometimes caring for yourself looks like pausing long enough to remember you are a person too. Not just a provider, caregiver, mother, partner, or professional.

Healing doesn’t always happen in grand gestures.

Sometimes it begins with a quiet lunch outside. So today I ask you: How are you caring for yourself differently today than yesterday? And how are you caring for the future version of you?

05/14/2026

If you grew up in an Asian family, conversations about mental health, self-care, emotional expression, or rest were often not openly spoken about.

There weren’t always words for “self-care” or “mental health.”

But care was still there.
It just showed up differently.

It showed up in early mornings watching parents prepare food before anyone woke up, in the sound of the kettle boiling, in warm tea shared without needing to ask.
It showed up in mothers and grandmothers staying busy with cooking, cleaning, gardening, sewing, or tending to the home not always because they had to, but because that was how stability and care were created.

It showed up in quiet wisdom passed down through stories, advice, and lived experience instead of direct emotional language.

For many Asian mothers and caregivers, resilience wasn’t talked about, it was demonstrated.

And while we are now learning new language for healing, boundaries, and emotional well-being, it is also important to honor what has always been present.

Care was quiet.
Care was practical.
Care was sacrifice.
And care was love, expressed in the ways they knew how.

05/04/2026

Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week 💗

Many perinatal mood and anxiety disorders (PMADs) still go unrecognized and in my experience, this is especially true for marginalized communities.
I’ve seen how often women of color are underdiagnosed or go without the support they deserve during the transition to motherhood. Stigma, along with a lack of culturally rooted and trauma-informed care, can make it even harder to reach for help.

This week, I invite you to slow down and ask:
💕What has this transition to motherhood really been like for you?

With intention and cultural humility, that question can open the door to trust, validation, and meaningful connection.

I’m resharing a previous post on understanding signs of PMADs because awareness matters, and so does how we show up.

I’m committed to being part of spaces where mothers feel seen, understood, and supported.

04/28/2026

Burnout in motherhood doesn’t always look like falling apart.

Sometimes it looks like still showing up… but feeling exhausted, overstimulated, and disconnected. This is especially true when the emotional and mental load
doesn’t stop.

As a therapist, I support maternal mental health.
As a mom, I feel it too.

If this resonates,
you’re not failing.
you’re carrying a lot. 🩷

04/21/2026

I’m a therapist… but this still breaks me sometimes.
No one talks about this part of motherhood.

People say, “I could never do what you do.”
Curiosity sounds like, “Why isn’t he talking yet?”
Advice comes as, “Have you tried this?”

The truth is…
I didn’t have a choice. I just learned as I went.

Will he ever talk?
I don’t know yet. But I’ve learned something deeper...
communication isn’t just verbal. Normalizing other forms of communication has been part of our journey. This is acceptance.

It’s eye contact.
It’s gestures.
It’s shared moments.
It’s connection in ways the world doesn’t always recognize.

I’ve learned to live in the unknown…
and move at a pace that works for both of us.

Because this isn’t just parenting... it’s navigating a neurological world that’s always shifting.

The planning.
The appointments.
The meetings.
The sleep disruptions.
The meltdowns.
The eloping.
The stimming.
The sensory needs.
The constant advocating…
proving “medical necessity” just to get your child what they need.

The mental load is heavy.
The emotional weight is real.

And here’s what I’m still learning...
you can grieve and love at the same time.

Grieve what you thought it might look like…
while still showing up, still connecting, still loving your child deeply.

A little more eye contact.
Following a simple request.
Trying a new food.
Putting on shoes independently.
Playing. Connecting. Trying.

Not everything feels like celebration.
Sometimes it’s just…
learning how to hold both.

If you’re a mom walking this path...
I see you 🩷

As a therapist, I support others in regulating, coping, and healing…
but as a mom, especially an autism mom,
I’m living it in real time too.

04/16/2026

Mom’s need weighted vests too.

Not literally (unless that’s your thing like me 😅)…
but in the sense that we need grounding, support, and something that helps us come back to ourselves.

So many moms are carrying invisible weight... mental load, emotional labor, expectations and doing it in a constant state of stress.

This is your reminder:
You are allowed to receive care.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to soften.

What's one thing you're willing to untangled today?

03/26/2026

One of my favorite parts of the recent community event was the affirmation tree, a space intentionally created for women to write messages for another woman who might need it, even if they’ve never met.

As a therapist, it was incredibly meaningful to witness not just the words, but the vulnerability, compassion, and shared humanity behind them. So many of the messages reflected themes we often explore in mental health work such as self-worth, rest, resilience, and permission to simply be.

Later, I took time to read through each one (even my son joined me), and it was a powerful reminder of how small, intentional acts can support emotional connection and healing. Sometimes, a few words can be enough to help someone feel seen, grounded, or less alone.

Some of the messages that really stayed with me:

“You really are enough. You don’t need to move constantly.”
“Look for moments of happy every day. I call them glimmers.”
“I am wildly capable of what life throws my way.”
“I am allowed to take up space.”
“I deserve the same care I give to others.”

This is the heart of mental health work by creating spaces where people feel safe to express, connect, and uplift one another. You never know how your words might become part of someone else’s healing.

03/21/2026

With my incredible friend Naree of Untangled Minds, LLC at the We EmpowHER event Friday💛

11/06/2025

“Kuv yog tus tuav lub teeb cim tsim kev” meaning “I hold the light to my own path”. Essentailly, you are the light to your own healing. Sometimes our light becomes dim because we were taught to care for others first, shamed for being too emotional, encouraged to agree passively, to be obedient, and so much more. Some of us learned that it wasn’t safe to let our light shine. When you begin to heal, you slowly allow the light to pour in and start to see what you’ve been yearning for what was once forgotten. You begin the process of unlearning. That part of you holds truth or in Hmong, you might say, “Koj lo lus zoo muaj kuab.”

What are you longing for?

Ready to start counseling, but not sure? Schedule your free consultation today at (920)204-6585.

11/02/2025