Am I a therapist? No. But if therapy is an option and working for your family or organization, you're probably not reading this right now. And if therapy is shepherding your family where you want it to go, you probably don't need me.

But therapy wasn't an option for us. Our son wouldn't willingly go, for starters. And at the time, we were living in a country where attachment theory was a foreign concept, as was trauma-informed care of any kind.

Our option was to become therapeutic parents; parents whose presence AND modalities are therapeutic in and of themselves. (And we're living proof you don't have to do this perfectly to see incredible healing.)

The regular advice given for kids with complex trauma simply didn't go far enough in our home. It was scientifically on track, but something was missing. Either it was written for younger kids (we had a teenager), or the scenarios those parents were experiencing were milder (let the reader understand) than what was happening in our home.

The usual chats also didn't cover the part where hurting foster and adoptive kids channel all their pain and rage and regularly unload it on their new mom. When no one is around to see it. (IYKYK.)

I've spent years reading widely and experimenting with hundreds of resulting ideas. And I’ve yet to encounter a situation I wasn't able to help shift if parents are willing to learn new things and try new practices.

The road is long. The path precarious. But what's possible is truly miraculous.