It was on a Friday late afternoon when I went to pick up my son from school. On Fridays, they’re usually at the gym playing soccer or basketball. One of the guardians looked at me with a worried expression, while I looked at my son with a questioning, almost tense gaze. I could feel it in my gut...

I Must Have Been Around 13 or 14 Years Old Every day after school, I’d slip in through the backdoor of our shed, park my bicycle, and pull a long skirt over my shorts. It was summertime, but my parents had made it clear—I wasn’t allowed to wear shorts. They didn’t want me showing any leg at scho...

I was in the kitchen, slicing onions and preparing dinner, when my son’s loud yelling interrupted the peace. If you’ve ever thought a missed deadline or an email typo is a crisis, try living with a teenager whose world collapses every time something happens to their mobile phone. When I entered ...

  Breaking the Time Trap I recently stumbled upon a fascinating conversation about time management, and it struck a nerve. For years, I’d been racing against the clock, trying to squeeze maximum efficiency out of every hour. The key performance indicators (KPIs) I meticulously tracked at work be...

  The Invitation to Heal My son has always been one of my greatest teachers. As he grew older and began asserting his independence, he had a knack for doing exactly the opposite of what I asked. His defiance triggered powerful emotions in me—frustration, anger, even helplessness. At first, I tho...