Women With Confidence Therapeutic Services, LLC

11/01/2025

“Toddlers and Tiaras (and Grace)”

Every morning as I’m getting myself ready, my 3-year-old loves to play dress up.

She slips into her little pink plastic one-inch heels with Cinderella on the front and struts around my bedroom like it’s a red carpet event.

“Click clack, click clack,” go the sound of her tiny pink heels across the floor as I brush my teeth and style my hair. As I carefully run the electric toothbrush across each tooth with such precision, I feel a tug at my pant leg.

I look down — and there she is, my daughter, gesturing for me to help her step into her matching turquoise tutu full of frills and sparkles. Her face lights up as I pull the fancy tulle up over her waist. And just like that, she’s off — running out of the bathroom, smiling with excitement over her new ensemble.

I stand by the doorway, watching and admiring her dance and sing along to music from one of her favorite YouTube channels.

⸻

Not long after, I watch her prance over to her toy chest. She digs around like she’s searching for buried treasure. After some sorting — and a pile of toys now spread across the floor — she finally pulls out a beautiful crown fit for a princess: shiny and silver, with blue feathers and a giant sparkling jewel.

She places the crown on her head and spins and twirls in delight. I smile and giggle at her innocence and imagination. She has made my entire day.

⸻

I head back to the bathroom to finish my morning routine. But before I can, I feel something tugging on my pant leg once more.

I look down again, and there she is.
“What’s going on, baby?” I ask with a gentle smile.

And out of nowhere, just like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, she reveals a pink crown from behind her back.

She reaches up toward me as if trying to place it on my head. I lower myself and bow my head down, and she crowns me with the pink feathery tiara — with such gentleness and care. She looks up at me, smiles, and then gallops off, heels clicking again.

⸻

Suddenly, I feel empowered.

I, Andrea’s mommy, have been officially crowned.
In that moment, I feel seen.

All of the hard work I pour into caring for her and her brother every day — the doctor appointments, the meals, the cuddles, the wiping of little noses — all the things that so often go unnoticed…

In that single act of being crowned, my daughter made me feel like a queen.

She reminded me that I am seen, that I am special, and that my role as “Mom” is important.
In my daughter’s eyes, I am royalty. 👑

⸻

So, my dear baby girl Andrea, thank you for reminding me of who I am. Thank you for putting the crown back on my head. And thank you for reminding me of the love that God has for me, even when it may be hard to love myself.

I’ve been thinking about this moment a lot. Something about my daughter placing a tiny tiara on my head felt so symbolic. I didn’t quite have the words for it then, but now I do.

In all my mess, and on the days I want to give up, my daughter saw me as something more. She saw me as worthy of a crown.

It’s a reminder that we don’t have to be perfect to have worth — that we are loved by God simply for who we are, imperfections and all.

And that’s grace.

© 2025 Chelsea Edwards| Women With Confidence Therapeutic Services, LLC

💫 Excerpt from my upcoming 30-day devotional for women and moms, “Just Grace.” Stay tuned for release updates!

09/18/2025

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09/05/2025

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07/14/2025

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06/30/2025

-“Imperfections”-

“Wow… you are looking so good.”

That’s what I said to myself this afternoon, standing in front of the mirror after getting home and settled from the morning’s workout.

For the first time in a long time, I really saw myself—and I liked what I saw.

Arms? Toned.
Skin? Clear.
Complexion? Evened out from the sun’s warm rays (thank you, outdoor workouts!).
Even my postpartum belly? Smaller. Stretch marks? Minimal.

And the scar across my back—from a surgery I once felt so self-conscious about?
It doesn’t bother me like it used to.
I’ve been working to minimize it, sure. But I’ve also learned to embrace it.
It’s part of my story.
A reminder of what I’ve overcome.

I remember after giving birth to my son hating what I saw in the mirror. With my daughter, I seemed to “snap back” immediately.

With my son? My stomach looked bloated. I had stretch marks. My face seemed full, and my old jeans wouldn’t fit.

I wondered if this was now the new me.
Would my body ever be the same?

But today…
I felt proud.
Not perfect. But more like me again.

I took a moment to honor my body.
To truly admire and appreciate all that it has done—and continues to do—for me.

This body carried two children.
It provided my daughter with nourishment for her first year of life.
It’s doing the same for my 4-month-old son.

This body got me through college.
It has powered me through hard workouts, long days, late nights, lots of travel, and joyful adventures.

I thank God for every part of me—even the imperfections.
Because I’m not the same woman I was before motherhood.
I’m better.
Wiser.
Stronger.
More faithful.
More confident.

There’s so much pressure on mothers to “bounce back.”
But I’ve learned that I don’t need to go back—I’ve evolved.

Just like a caterpillar in the cocoon, I am ready for my metamorphosis. Every past stage of life—the challenges, the times when I doubted myself, the anxiety and fear—have all prepared me for this moment.

I am ready to emerge like the beautiful butterfly I am.
Brand new and eager to spread my wings.

So here’s to you—wherever you are in your metamorphosis journey.

Celebrate your stretch marks, your scars, your story.

They’re not imperfections.
They’re proof that you’ve lived, loved, and grown. They are a sign of your strength.

And they are beautiful.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT 🩷

06/27/2025

“It’s Like Driving a Bus”🚌

This morning, I did something I’d never done before:
I brought both of my young children to the pediatrician on my own.

My toddler had to stay home from daycare last minute, and my husband—who usually helps with appointments—had a work meeting he couldn’t miss. So it was just me, the kids, and a whole lot of figuring it out as I went.

On the car ride over, I was already strategizing.

Should I bring the double stroller inside? Will it even fit through the waiting room or exam room doors? Am I doing too much? Should I carry the baby and hold my toddler’s hand instead?

I was second-guessing everything, already feeling anxious about managing it all solo. But then I looked at my toddler in the back seat—full of energy—and knew immediately:

If she’s not secured in that stroller, she is 100% going to make a run for it.

And listen—I had already finished my morning workout for the day, and I was not in the mood to sprint through a doctor’s office. 😅

Decision made.

Toddler up front, entertained by her iPad.
Baby in the back, secured in his car seat, clicked into the stroller with ease.
Diaper bag clipped to the handles like a mom who’d done this a million times before.

We rolled in like a little mom parade.

As I was checking in, another mom looked over with a warm smile and said:

“I love your setup!”

I laughed. “Thanks! It’s like driving a bus.”

She laughed too. She had two kids as well—an 8-year-old and a newborn—and there we were, two moms at different stages of motherhood, crossing paths in the pediatrician’s office.

And in that moment, something shifted for me.

She didn’t know it was my first time handling an appointment on my own with both kids.
She didn’t know I’d been unsure of myself just 10 minutes earlier in the parking lot.
She didn’t know about the mental load I’d carried just getting us out the door.

But her kind words did something powerful:
They helped me see myself through her eyes—capable, creative, calm, and confident.
They reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

There are moms all around us doing the best they can. Some have newborns. Some have school-aged kids. Some, like me, are figuring it out moment by moment, choice by choice.

And sometimes, one mom seeing another is all it takes to change the tone of your whole day.

That stroller? It wasn’t just a setup.
It was a survival system—a choice I almost talked myself out of until another mom reminded me I’d made the right call.

So to that mom in the waiting room—thank you.

And to every mom reading this:
• If you’ve ever questioned your choices—trust yourself.
• If you’ve ever felt invisible—know that you are seen.
• And if you see another mom doing her best—say something kind. Your words might mean more than you know.

Because sometimes, motherhood really is like driving a bus.

You approach the wheel with caution.
You stay alert and steady, mindful of every turn.
You navigate unexpected detours on a tight schedule.
And through it all, you carry precious passengers—safely, lovingly, and often without applause.

But make no mistake: you are doing important, beautiful work.
And you’re not driving alone.

🌸Chelsea Edwards, LMFT🌸

06/24/2025

“The Invisible Work of a Good Man: Thank God for Good Husbands”🙏🏾❤️

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to have a true partner in parenting. Motherhood is tough—especially in the early stages. When the days are long, the sleep is broken, and the to-do list never ends—it’s easy to focus on what feels overwhelming. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, we’re reminded of just how supported we are.

This morning, I woke up early—6:00 AM—to try and get a head start on my day before my toddler woke up. I climbed out of bed, picked up the baby, and headed down to the kitchen to begin my morning pump and get the baby fed.

As I prepped his bottle, I looked out the kitchen window—and there he was. My husband, outside at 6:00 in the morning while the house was still quiet and the sun hadn’t fully risen yet, watering the grass and spraying bug repellent.

It may seem small, but to me, it felt huge. That simple act told me he was protecting our space, thinking ahead, keeping our home safe and comfortable for the kids and for me. And he was doing it before his day had even officially begun.

After finishing the pump, I went to store the milk in the fridge and was met with another wave of gratitude. Our refrigerator was full—fresh strawberries, apples, grapes, crisp lettuce, celery, asparagus….Eggs, cheese, grilled chicken, etc. Even a container of fresh cookies in the pantry. The basics and the little luxuries.

My husband had made a grocery run the day before while I stayed home with the kids. The weight of not having to think about what we’d eat this week felt like such a blessing.

I walked over to the kitchen sink…spotless! Not a crumb in sight. Dishwasher already loaded, and clean dishes were sorted and put away.

Soon, our toddler was awake. I got her cleaned up, dressed, and brought her downstairs for breakfast. Just as I was about to get her settled, my phone lit up with a call from my husband, already downstairs in his home office.

“I just wanted to let you know I already got Andrea’s breakfast ready for her in the microwave. When you’re ready to head out, let me know so I can help you and the kids to the car.”

That small phone call made me feel so seen. So appreciated. It reminded me that I am not alone in this.

After breakfast, we packed up and headed out. My husband carried the baby’s car seat, strapped him in, and helped secure our daughter in her seat too. He kissed them both on their foreheads, wished us a safe drive, and waved us off. As I pulled away, I glanced at the gas tank—and smiled again. Full. Another thoughtful task quietly handled.

All of this—the groceries, the bug spray, the gas tank, the breakfast, the car seat buckles—might look like background noise. But today, I saw it clearly. It’s what partnership looks like. It’s how love shows up.

Because yes, being a mom to littles is intense. It’s often isolating. And it can sometimes feel like you’re doing it all alone. But when I slow down and really look, I realize: I am able to do what I do because he does what he does. This is what it means to be a team.

So to my hardworking, loving, and selfless husband: Thank you. Thank you for showing up, day after day. Thank you for making the load lighter, even when it’s hard. Thank you for being my teammate in this beautiful, chaotic season of life.

And to those reading—if you have someone in your life who is showing up for you, who is supporting you in the quiet, behind-the-scenes ways: tell them thank you. Life moves fast. Gratitude spoken aloud matters.

✨When is the last time you told someone in your village, “Thank you”?✨

🩷Chelsea Edwards,LMFT

06/20/2025

“Running Late, Running Tired, Still Running” 🏃🏾‍♀️

I haven’t been to my Mommy & Me workout class in over two weeks.
Between catering to two littles, planning a mini vacation for our anniversary, and just riding the waves of daily life, my body couldn’t seem to get with the program.

I had told myself:
“Okay, when we return from our trip, it’s back to the workouts. Back to eating lean.”

But after coming home on a Sunday evening and waking up Monday morning…
my body said, No thanks.

Exhausted from traveling, caretaking, and constant doing, I gave myself another day off. I felt guilty—but also overworked—so I whispered:
“It’s okay. Tomorrow, we’ll get back to it.”

Well… tomorrow came.
And I could already feel the resistance setting in—not necessarily about the workout itself, but the process of even getting to the class.

Getting to my workout class isn’t just about throwing on leggings and driving over.
It’s the baby feedings. Soothing baby cries. Diaper changes. Brushing toddler teeth. Wiping little faces.
It’s combing hair, dressing tiny humans, and getting myself to look like a functional adult.

And today? It felt like the cost outweighed the benefit.
I felt like I just didn’t have it in me.

But then I paused. Took a breath. And reminded myself:
“I’ve already missed so many days. If I keep waiting to feel 100%, I might never go back.”

That thought gave me the tiniest push I needed.

I made things simple:
✅Picked an outfit for my daughter that didn’t need ironing
✅Let her brush her own teeth (she hates when I do it anyway)
✅Got breakfast going
✅Fed the baby

Before I knew it, we were out the door.
I made it to class. I felt tired—but I also felt proud.
I had shown up.

During our cardio circuit, I watched other moms run fast with their strollers. Most of them passed me. I felt a twinge of defeat. “I’m behind”, I whispered to myself.

But then I gently reminded myself:
“Go at your own pace. You’re here. You’re moving. That’s enough.”

Here’s the thing:
Depression tells us that if we can’t give it our all, we shouldn’t give anything.
That if it’s not perfect, it’s pointless.
That if the list isn’t all crossed off, we’ve failed.

I’m here to squash that all-or-nothing thinking.

You don’t have to be at your best to show up.
Your tank doesn’t have to be full.
You don’t need a perfect attitude, a clean kitchen, or a flawless routine.

All you need is the courage to show up.
Even if your “best” today looks different than yesterday, last week, or last month.

The more you choose to keep showing up—messy, tired, imperfect—the more consistent and grounded you become.
And that? That’s success.

-Chelsea Edwards,LMFT

✨Can you think of a time when you limited yourself because of all-or-nothing thinking?

06/17/2025

“Burnt Toast and Baby Snuggles”

Last night, I felt like burnt toast—crispy, overdone, and not much use to anyone.

I wanted to go to bed early. My kids had other plans.
My daughter wouldn’t fall asleep. My son wanted constant cuddles and skin-to-skin. My husband and I tag-teamed, using every soothing strategy we knew—gentle voices, prayers, patience, repeat.
Eventually, they slept. But by then, I was done.
Fried. Cooked. Stick a fork in me.

This morning? It felt like I got hit by a bus.
And then I realized, my exhaustion wasn’t just about last night.
It was everything—all the mental tabs I had open:

🌀 Laundry
🌀 Packing for our first family vacation
🌀 What’s for dinner?
🌀 When will I make it back to a workout class?
🌀 Bottles, pumping, text replies, dishes… the never-ending loop

My brain felt like a laptop with 17 tabs open and zero battery left.

So I made an executive decision:
After lunch, my toddler, my baby, and I went upstairs and took a nap. A real one.

And let me tell you—best nap of our lives.
I woke up more energized. More grounded. Lighter. Less irritable.
Not to mention, I woke up to a clean kitchen, and the smell of grilled chicken thighs prepared by my thoughtful husband while I rested (wow, he had no idea how much I really needed that!)

I let myself be taken care of. And that mattered too.

Here’s what I’m learning:

✨ Rest isn’t a luxury. It’s survival.
✨It’s okay to allow others to help you—it doesn’t mean that you’ve failed
✨ Feeling exhausted doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’re human.

So if today you’re feeling like burnt toast—overdone, overstimulated, just trying to get through—take the nap. Or the break. Or the deep breath.

Your body will thank you.
And so will your mind, your spirit, and your family.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT🩷