I am... Hi 👋

I AM THE MOMMA DOM™️ 🐰💜👑

The Soft Strength, Generational Scars, Alien-in-a-Human-World Edition

Hello sproutlings (my watchers),

I am the woman rebuilt 211 times a certificate for every season I had to grow through instead of break under. The Citizend Police Academy, CBT, Suicide Awareness, ADD Advocacy, Trauma, Nutrition, Meditation, Communication....

I studied not to escape life, but to understand it, to understand people, patterns, pain, and how to hold it without losing myself within these pressures.

I am the mother walking beside a 23-year-old son through Stage 4 lymphoma, through drains and chemo, through hospital chaos and quiet courage and at the same time, still parenting a young man with generational scars of his own.

A boy who grew up inside the shadows of 9/11, isolation of COVID, the disconnection of an era that taught his generation to fear permanence, avoid systems, crippled by anxiety at not being misunderstood, agreed with, individual, non-safe.

A young man who carries scars that don’t bleed on the outside but map themselves across his sense of trust, identity, and safety.

To mother him, I have to understand his generational wounds while living with my own, because parenting doesn’t pause for cancer.

And I am doing this while carrying multiple sclerosis, type 2 diabetes, fibromyalgia, and amyloidosis illnesses that teach discipline, patience, and humility one flare at a time.

I am the blogger shaped by humor, truth, discipline, and Grit, Grace, Gurs™️

* Erma Bombeck taught me to find light in heaviness.

* Dr. Ruth taught me to speak plainly.

* Hunter S. Thompson taught me to look where others avoid.

* Lucy taught me to embrace the absurd.

* Nanny McPhee taught me that boundaries are love.

Behold in me now lives Mike Royko’s grounded realism and Lewis Black’s laser clarity the kind that cuts through the noise without cruelty.

I am the caretaker of a pool-house garden filled with Praying Mantis, mealworms, crickets, garlic, carrots, bok choy, and unexpected living metaphors found in dirt.

Life gives me tiny worlds to nurture when the big one feels too heavy.

I am the architect of the Domverse™️ built from truth, accountability, devotion, and the sacred courage to face myself in a mirror honestly.

Hi! Here is who I am becoming:

DOM means Discipline Over Me.™️ Not control by any means. Not dominance either, but responsibility for my reactions, my healing, my choices, my truth.

I birthed Pure 🐰 Love 💜 Energy 👑 ™️ not as a personal brand, but as a way of surviving the impossible without becoming hardened by it.

I brought into existence the living practice of:

Show Up. Stand By. Defend.™️

Not with aggression. Not with perfection but with transparency, softness, honesty, and a willingness to sit with what hurts.

Still I feel like an alien in a world of humans. Trying to learn their rules. Trying to understand what “being human” even means while doing personal, internal homework through 211 courses, caregiving wars, generational trauma, and my own unlearning of psychological and shadow work.

So I say it bluntly:

I am The Momma Dom™️ figuring it out one scar, one class, one truth, one act of Pure, Love, Energy™️ at a time.

#themommadom #thisisme #lastoftheredhotmommas #comingout #introducingmyself

💌 Brand: themommadom.medium.com