Todd and I have been married 23 years. We were babies when we got married. And in the past 23 years we have been through about every emotion in the book. We lost Todd’s dad two months after our wedding. We had Jackson, then fought respiratory illnesses throughout his first year of life. We had 7 miscarriages, worked for our foster parent license, adopted Isabella, changed jobs, lost jobs, loved jobs and hated jobs. We have travelled down the active, involved kid road, the mental health kid road, the college kid road and now the transgender kid road. And through most all of it we took the divide and conquer tactic. We have passed like ships in the night for almost 20 years and we have found ourselves at a place of distance and regret. Parenting and holding a marriage strong is hard for any couple. Parenting and keeping a marriage strong is near impossible for a couple with a child who has mental illness.

And so we find ourselves in a place where we are no longer each other’s safe harbour. And we are embarking on a journey to come back to each other.

We met each other in the safe space, for me, of Brads therapy room this week. Todd would rather meet in his safe space…our living room with just the two of us. But I, and I believe we, need Brad at this point. Brad can keep us on track, will call us on our bullshit, and lead us through the tough but necessary conversations. We spent an hour talking, crying, laughing, listening. We said some things we’d been holding back, neither of us withdrew or got angry. And Tommi, in Brads words, gave us a freaking miracle by giving us that hour alone with each other and Brad.

Brad made sure we both know this is going to be a long ride because we both have so much regret and so many unsaid things and because our path with Tommi has been and will continue to be challenging. Therapy will be long and bumpy, but if we keep coming into his space, being honest, we’ll get there. And I believe we will. If anyone can do it, Todd, myself and Brad can.