When Parents Are Holding It All Together With Duct Tape
The Quiet Struggle Behind the Smile
Most people won’t see it.
The cracked foundation. The late-night tears. The way your body tenses just to get through the day.
You’ve mastered the art of functioning while barely standing. The meetings, the lunches, the school pickups, all with a smile that says, “I’m fine,” when what you really want is to fall apart. Quietly. Safely. Without judgement.
For caregivers, parents, and grievers, this is the invisible labour: staying strong when you feel anything but. You show up. You manage it all.
But at what cost?
That would’ve been me for most of the last ten years, culminating from the loss of my 14-year-old daughter Maddie.
Duct tape, ball of string, copious amounts of caffeine and a will to live, greater than a will to die.
Recognizing the Breaking Point
Burnout and grief are sneaky.
They don’t always arrive with sobs or breakdowns. Sometimes it’s exhaustion, disinterest, or a short temper. Sometimes they feel numb. Or as if you're watching life unfold from a distance.
I missed the signs in myself for far too long. I was irritable, distracted, and constantly tired. I knew it was grief, but I didn’t know grief, not to this magnitude. I didn’t think I could pull out of it. A big part of me didn’t want to, preferring death by a thousand cuts. I soldiered on. I coped. I powered through, primarily for my boys.
Until I couldn’t anymore.
The Power of a Witness
Everything began to shift the moment someone looked at me, really looked, and said,
"I believe in you."
It was another parent who had also experienced heart-wrenching loss, but a little further along their grief journey. They recognized the signs in me because they had travelled that same road. They let me know that one day, I would start to feel a shift. A relief. A sense of hope. Optimism. Purpose.
Not “you’ll get through this” or “stay strong.” Just belief. Quiet, grounded, honest belief.
That moment didn’t fix anything overnight. But it cracked open the door I’d slammed shut. The one that said I had to hold it together, always.
Being seen didn’t make the pain vanish. It made the load bearable.
Turning Brokenness Into Belonging
MentorWell wasn’t built from a place of success.
It was built from the rubble of heartbreak.
The kind of heartbreak that leaves you asking, ‘What now? What next. Who am I if I can’t go back to who I was?
And slowly, gently, I began to answer those questions. Not just for myself, but for others.
MentorWell is the space I needed and couldn’t find. It’s a space built for people holding life together with duct tape and grit, the ones doing the work of healing while still showing up for everyone else.
The very thing that almost broke me is now the thing helping others find their way back to themselves.
You Don’t Have to Pretend Anymore
You don’t have to fix yourself before you move forward.
You don’t need to have it all together to take the next step.
Sometimes, healing begins not with answers, but with honesty.
Not with fixing, but with feeling.
Not with perfection, but with presence.
Join us at MentorWell. We believe in you, even when you can’t.
Discover if mentorship is the right fit for your teen. Find out if mentorship can support you as a parent who has run out of answers and the desire to look like you’re holding it all together.
