Meet Amelia
Licensed therapist. Mom Coach. Mother of ten, all grown. Someone who's lived this work long before ever teaching it to anyone else.
Where It Started
My grandmother didn't choose her marriage. It was arranged for her, in a time and place where women simply didn't get to choose. From what one cousin has told me, she spent hours at church — not just out of faith, but because it was the one place she'd always wanted to be. She'd wanted to become a nun. Instead, she became a wife and a mother in a life that wasn't hers to pick, and by that account, she wasn't always present for the children she did have.
Hurt people hurt people. My mother grew up in that absence. Then, at just 26 years old, pregnant with me, she lost her mother altogether — not just the grief of losing her, but the grief of never having had a mother who was truly attentive to her needs in the first place. I carry my grandmother's name because of that loss, a name that's held both her memory and my mother's grief for my whole life.
None of us chose what was handed to us. But I get to choose what I hand down. That's what It Ends With Me actually means — not that the pain never touched this family, but that it doesn't have to keep moving forward unspoken.
My grandmother's family. A story I didn't live, but still carry.
My mother's 85th birthday. Forgiveness didn't come from forgetting what happened. It came from finally seeing where it started.
10
Kids, All Grown
3
Generations of This Story
1
Decision to End It Here
“You weren't given a manual either. But you get to decide what gets written next.”
A Few More Things About Me
Licensed therapist. Mom Coach. Proud Costa Rican — pura vida isn't a saying to me, it's home. Ten kids, all grown, and somehow still not enough seats at the table for every holiday. One doodle, Scarlett, who thinks she's people. Board Chair, Childhood Matters. A Southern California beach girl who's happiest barefoot in the sand. Always reading something. Still believes the best conversations happen over coffee with a real friend, not a screen.
Why This Isn't Therapy
I'm still a licensed therapist, and I hold that work close. But the women I coach aren't in crisis. They're capable, often thriving on paper — they've just noticed a pattern repeating, and they're done letting it run on autopilot. This work is coaching: forward-facing, practical, built around a method, not a diagnosis. You bring the willingness. I bring the path.
Ready to Take the Next Step?
Not sure where to begin? Take the Mother Wound Archetype Quiz, or explore the path that fits where you are right now.
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