Rooted in Motion: What 11 Moves Taught Me About Resilience, Parenting, and Belonging

I’ve been married for 20 years, and over those two decades, our family has moved 11 times—six of those with our children. Each move has been a mix of wonder and weariness. It’s meaningful to discover new places and cultures, to fully immerse ourselves in the rhythm of a new city or village. AND even with all the adventure, it’s also really hard. Every move asks us to let go of what we know and step into the unknown.

A joyful family moment captured as a mother and her two children celebrate moving day, sitting atop a row of neatly stacked boxes marked "Handle With Care."

With each transition comes a long list of logistics: finding a new doctor, a grocery store, a hair salon, a library, a park, new activities, and eventually, a sense of community. When kids are involved, the challenge multiplies. We’re not just creating a new life for ourselves—we’re guiding our children through the grief of saying goodbye to friends and familiarity, while holding space for their feelings and our own.

The weight of their sadness amplifies our own sense of loss, and suddenly we’re all navigating a sea of emotions without much certainty beneath our feet.

What Grounds Us in the Chaos of Change?

In all this motion, what’s kept us steady is something invisible: the way we parent.

The peaceful parenting tools we practice—attunement, presence, nervous system regulation, repair—have become our lifelines. Not because they make things perfect, but because they help us stay connected when nothing else feels certain.

Even when the world outside is shifting, we come back to the center of our family: the tone of our home, the rituals we carry in our hearts, and the unshakable truth that we belong to each other.

The Opportunity Inside the Challenge

Moving can either pull families closer—or stretch them apart. When we’re under stress and missing familiar supports, tension can rise. But if we lean into our peaceful parenting tools—practicing centering in our values, repair, and open-hearted communication—then even conflict becomes a doorway to deeper connection.

It takes intention. It takes grace. It takes the courage to sit with our own discomfort so we can stay open to our children’s experience, too.

In the messiness of moving, there’s also opportunity. We’ve found that transitions invite growth. When we let our kids have their big feelings, when we name our own, when we move through hard days together and come out the other side—we’re building resilience. Together.

5 Gentle Reminders for Families on the Move

1. You don’t need to be perfectly calm—just present and connected to yourself.

A steady breath. A kind look. A soft voice. These are anchors.

2. Let grief and joy sit side by side.

Don’t rush anyone’s sadness away. These emotions are part of the process.

3. Create tiny rituals of sameness.

A bedtime song, a favorite breakfast, a phrase like “home is wherever we’re together.”

4. Lower your expectations and raise your compassion.

There will be dysregulation. Sleep may be off. Emotions may run high. That’s okay.

5. Let connection be your home.

No matter where you are, your love is what your child will remember.

For the Mamas: You Matter, Too

This transition is just as hard for you. The unknown activates your nervous system, too. You’re carrying so much. And you deserve care.

Not later—now.

Even five minutes of intentional self-care can be a lifeline. Whether it’s a walk, a cup of tea, a breath practice, or reaching out to a friend—your nervous system needs to feel possibility, rhythm, and moments of peace.

Try reflecting on these questions:

• What does my nervous system need to feel safe right now?

• Where do I feel tension in my body? Can I offer it breath or softness?

• What small ritual can I return to each day?

• Who are my supports, and how can I lean into them?

• What would I say to a dear friend in this moment—and can I say it to myself?

  
  

A Simple Goodbye Ritual for Families

One practice we’ve returned to again and again is honoring the goodbye.

Instead of just leaving, we say thank you.

To the park bench where we ate snacks.

To the tree they loved to climb.

To the hallway where our child learned to walk.

To the bakery with our favorite treats.

We name them, thank them, and sometimes take a photo or leave a flower. This helps create emotional closure.

Afterward, we gently open the door to the new chapter with curiosity.

We ask:

• Is there anything we’re excited about in the next place?

• What are we hoping for or curious about?

• What are we taking with us—not in boxes, but in our hearts?

  
  

This ritual helps children (and adults) hold grief and hope side by side. It teaches that letting go can be full of love—and that something meaningful might be waiting ahead.

Life moves. And we move with it.

Anchored in love.

Rooted in presence.

Grounded in the knowing that we belong to each other.

Looking for more grounded tools to support your parenting through change?

Download my free Befriend Anger Map or join my mailing list for monthly reflections, gentle parenting tools, and resources for your nervous system.