Desiree Yvette - Soul Mama and Alchemist of Healing

Desiree you are a Latina woman, can you tell us more about this? What it means to you to be Latina and about your Latina upbringing? 

Being Latina to me is about resilience, something my mother instilled in me at a very young age, it was having deep rooted connections to my ancestors, our culture coming from NYC in the LowerEastSide it was mostly a mixed cultural community, I remember celebrating many different cultural holidays but especially the puerto rican day parades and the way community was celebrated and brought together, It was a magical experience and it gave me this huge sense of pride to be latina. Theres also this duality in being Latina, its pride in our traditions, music, food, our fire but also the unspoken burdens we carry, the survival mentality passed down from generations. My upbringing was a mix of struggle and strength, witnessing the sacrifices my family made while also carrying the weight of generational wounds. 

You became a mother at the tender age of 17 under unbelievably challenging circumstances. You lost your own mother, were in a violent relationship and had to leave school. Can you tell us more about this experience; the hard moments, the daily moments, how you survived, how you escaped? 

 My journey into motherhood wasn’t gentle. It was a storm I had no choice but to survive. At 17, I found myself in a place no teenager should ever have to navigate—grieving the loss of my mother, trapped in a violent relationship, and forced to leave school just as I was supposed to be stepping into my future. There was no roadmap, no safety net. Just me, a baby on the way, and a world that didn’t make space for young mothers, especially ones like me, coming from the projects, carrying generational wounds I barely understood at the time.The hard moments? They were relentless. Trying to keep a roof over our heads while enduring the cycles of domestic violence. Learning how to mother while still being a child myself. The loneliness of it all, realizing that the people who were supposed to protect me couldn’t, or wouldn’t. There were nights when I didn’t know if I’d make it out alive, but somehow, I kept going—because I had to. The adult moments came fast. I had to teach myself how to advocate, how to survive, how to keep moving even when I was drowning. I learned to read people’s energy, to protect my son and myself at all costs. I carried the weight of making choices that no teenager should have to make—when to leave, how to leave, and where to go when there was nowhere safe.

How did I survive? I don’t think I truly understood it at the time, but survival was in my blood. The women before me had survived in their own ways, and that fire lived in me, too. I found moments of clarity in the chaos, slowly building the courage to escape. And when I finally did, it wasn’t because I had all the answers. It was because I knew staying would destroy me.

Leaving wasn’t easy. It took time, planning, and an unshakable belief that there had to be more for me and my son. I had no degree, no safety net, just a will to create something different. And I did. Through every hard season, I chose to keep fighting, keep healing, and keep rewriting my story.

Now, I look at the life I’ve built—the peace, the love, the mindfulness I’ve embraced—and I see the girl I once was. I see her strength, her resilience, and I honor her by living a life that is no longer about just surviving, but truly thriving. That’s the legacy I’m leaving for my children—not one of pain, but of healing, of breaking cycles, of choosing softness after a lifetime of being forced to be hard. 

This experience was also transformative for you, it informed your ‘now’ self and the incredibly meaningful work that you do. It ignited a passion in you for creating spaces where mothers, mothers of colour in particular, feel seen, supported and empowered. How have you seen other mothers impacted by your work? 

My journey through young motherhood, domestic violence, and survival didn’t just shape me—it transformed me. It gave me a deep understanding of what it means to mother in isolation, to navigate trauma while raising a child, and to feel unseen in a world that often dismisses our struggles. But it also ignited something in me—a passion to ensure that other mothers, especially mothers of color, don’t have to walk that path alone.

Through my work, I’ve created spaces where mothers can exhale, where they can be honest about the weight they carry without shame or judgment. I’ve seen mothers come into these spaces hesitant, guarded, unsure if they belong. And then, through shared experiences, through real conversations and mindful practices, I’ve watched them begin to soften. To feel seen. To recognize that they are not alone.

One of the most powerful things I’ve witnessed is the shift from survival to presence. I’ve had mothers tell me that, for the first time, they are learning how to be gentle with themselves. That they are breaking cycles of harshness and guilt because they now understand that they are worthy of patience and care, just like their children. Some have found the courage to set boundaries they never thought possible. Others have started embracing mindfulness in their parenting, realizing that they don’t have to repeat the patterns they were raised with.

This work is deeply personal to me because I know what it’s like to mother from a place of fear, exhaustion, and self-doubt. But I also know what it’s like to reclaim your power, to rewrite your story, and to create a life where motherhood is not just about surviving—but about thriving. That is what I want for every mother who comes into my space. And every time I see another mother step into her own healing, I know that the work I’m doing is exactly what I was meant to do.

You live it Desiree. You have been on your own wellness journey that is deeply rooted in mindfulness and healing intergenerational trauma. This has helped you to shift out of survival mode, be present  and live your life peacefully and intentionally. Can you tell us more about how you are healing your own intergenerational trauma and what mindfulness looks and feels like for you? 

Healing my own intergenerational trauma has been a journey of unlearning, deep self-awareness, and intentional choices. It started with recognizing that so much of what I carried—my survival mentality, my need to always be strong, my inability to rest—wasn’t just mine. It was inherited. I was raised in a world where struggle was normalized, where softness wasn’t always safe, and where being a mother often meant sacrificing yourself entirely. But I made the decision that it would end with me.

Mindfulness became my tool for breaking those cycles. At first, it was just about pausing—learning to listen to my body, to notice my emotions without fear, to stop running on autopilot. I had spent so much of my life reacting, bracing for the next hardship, that stillness felt foreign to me. But with time, mindfulness became a way of life.

You say your ‘highest intention’ is now to help other mothers reclaim their power and prioritize their wellbeing. This is a beautiful and meaningful purpose. The work of mothers is unbelievably important yet they are often isolated and not financially rewarded for this enormous and life changing work. How do you help mothers reclaim their power and  prioritise their well-being? 

My highest intention is to help mothers reclaim their power because I know firsthand how easy it is to lose yourself in the endless demands of motherhood, especially when you’re not given the space to prioritize your own well-being. As mothers, we often give so much of ourselves—physically, emotionally, mentally—that we forget we need to be nourished too. We forget that our well-being matters, that we deserve to be seen, heard, and cared for just as much as the little ones we care for.

In my work, I help mothers reclaim their power by guiding them through the journey of self-awareness, healing, and mindfulness. We start by recognizing that they are not just mothers—they are whole, complex individuals who have dreams, desires, and needs that are separate from their role as caregivers. I encourage them to break free from the societal pressures that say their worth is only tied to their children or their ability to perform. I teach them to see their own value, to prioritize their own mental, emotional, and physical health as part of their role as mothers, not separate from it.

Mindfulness is a big part of this because it brings us back to the present moment, where we can feel grounded and make intentional choices. Instead of operating from a place of burnout or survival mode, mindfulness helps mothers to be fully present with their children, yes—but also with themselves. It helps them carve out moments of stillness in their busy days, to breathe, reflect, and reset.

I also encourage them to create boundaries, both within themselves and with the world around them. This might mean saying no to things that drain them, it might mean asking for support, or it could be as simple as creating quiet time in the day for themselves. I remind them that taking time for themselves isn’t selfish—it’s necessary for their well-being and for their ability to show up fully for their children.

As for the financial piece, I wholeheartedly believe that the work of mothers should be honored and valued in every way. This is why I’m passionate about helping mothers find their own purpose, heal their own wounds, and build sustainable lives that align with their values. Whether it’s creating a business, stepping into a new career, or simply learning how to live more intentionally, I work with them to create pathways that not only nourish their soul but also support their financial and personal growth.

Desiree in light of all the work and learning that you have done, there must still be hard days. How do you support yourself through these moments? 

You’re absolutely right—no matter how much work I’ve done, there are still hard days. Healing is not linear, and motherhood can be incredibly overwhelming, even when I’m deeply committed to mindfulness and well-being. The truth is, some days feel heavier than others, and there are times when I fall back into old patterns of doubt, frustration, or exhaustion. But that’s part of the process, too. It’s important for me to honor those moments without judgment.

On those hard days, I remind myself that it’s okay to not have it all together. It’s okay to not be perfect. I give myself permission to feel what I’m feeling without trying to push it away or minimize it. If I’m frustrated, I let myself be frustrated. If I’m overwhelmed, I acknowledge that. I’m human, after all. I lean into my emotions, let them move through me, and trust that they won’t last forever.

I also turn to my self-care practices, even when I don’t feel like it. On tough days, it’s easy to think I don’t have the energy for mindfulness or breathwork. But that’s exactly when I need it most. I take five minutes to close my eyes and breathe, even if the house is loud, even if my mind is racing. I might journal to release what’s on my heart or step outside for a brief walk to reset. These small, intentional acts ground me and remind me that I have the power to shift my energy, even if just a little.

Another practice I lean on is connecting with other mothers. Whether it’s through my community, close friends, or even sharing vulnerably on social media, I remind myself that I’m not alone in this. Sometimes, just hearing that someone else is going through the same struggles or feeling the same way is enough to remind me that this moment does not define me. It’s temporary.

And of course, I practice compassion towards myself. I remind myself that healing is a journey, not a destination. Just because I’ve done the work doesn’t mean I’ll never struggle again. Some days, that means giving myself grace and acknowledging that the effort to keep moving forward is still progress. The key is that I don’t stay stuck. I don’t let the hard moments define me. I use them as an opportunity to deepen my own self-awareness, learning more about what I need in those moments and how I can care for myself better next time.

At the end of the day, I lean on the knowing that hard days don’t erase the work I’ve done or the life I’m creating. They are just a part of the human experience, and they pass. So, I support myself through them with honesty, compassion, and the commitment to keep showing up, even when it’s tough.

What would you say to a mother who is still finding her way postpartum?

To a mother still finding her way postpartum, I would say this: You are not alone. The journey after giving birth is rarely talked about in its fullness, and it’s okay if it’s not what you expected. It’s okay if you’re struggling to find yourself again. This phase is hard, messy, and often overwhelming, and it’s completely normal to feel lost or uncertain.

Motherhood is a radical transformation, and the postpartum period is one of the most profound and vulnerable times in a woman’s life. Your body is healing, your emotions are all over the place, and the demands of caring for a newborn can leave you feeling stretched in ways you didn’t know were possible. It’s a lot.

I want you to know that you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to take things one day at a time and to let yourself be. Give yourself permission to rest when you need it, even if that rest feels like a luxury. Your body, your mind, and your spirit are all going through profound changes. Acknowledge them, and don’t rush the process.

Don’t forget to check in with yourself. When we’re caring for others, especially a newborn, it’s easy to lose track of our own needs. But you matter too. Your mental, emotional, and physical health matter. Prioritize those small moments of self-care, even if it’s just a few minutes to breathe deeply, take a walk, or ask for help. The more you care for yourself, the more you’ll be able to show up for your baby and your family.

And please, don’t be afraid to seek support when you need it. Postpartum is a huge transition, and it’s okay to ask for help—whether it’s from a partner, a friend, a family member, or a professional. There is no shame in admitting that you need help. You are strong, but you are also human.

Remember, there is no “right way” to do this. Your journey will look different from others, and that’s okay. Trust your instincts, honor your pace, and give yourself grace. You are doing the most important work, and even on the hardest days, you are enough. You are enough.

What would you say to the mother who is aware of her own need for healing and wants to parent differently to how she was raised? 

To the mother who is aware of her own need for healing and desires to parent differently than how she was raised, I would say this: You are already doing the hardest, most courageous work by acknowledging where you’ve come from and the impact it has had on you. That awareness alone is the first step to breaking the cycle, and it’s not easy. It’s often painful, uncomfortable, and vulnerable. You’re diving into the depths of your own story—the good, the bad, and everything in between—and that requires strength.

You don’t have to repeat the patterns of your past. It’s possible to create a new, healthier narrative for yourself and your children, but that journey requires patience, self-compassion, and a willingness to face the hard truths. It’s not about perfection; it’s about progress. Healing is messy, nonlinear, and doesn’t happen overnight. There will be days when you slip back into old habits, and that’s okay. What matters is your commitment to continue learning, growing, and showing up for your healing and your children, even when it feels difficult.

You are breaking generational cycles that have been passed down, and that’s powerful. But don’t expect to heal all of it in one go. It’s about making small, intentional changes over time. Parenting differently doesn’t mean you have to reject everything from your past, but it does mean you’re learning to parent with more awareness, empathy, and intentionality. You are not bound to the same patterns that hurt you. Your love for your child, your desire to do better, and your willingness to face your wounds will guide you in this journey.

One of the key shifts here is recognizing that your needs matter. You are not just a mother; you are an individual with your own desires, dreams, and healing to do. Self-care, self-awareness, and emotional health are not optional—they’re essential for you to show up as the mother you want to be. But you also need to remember that you are not your past. You are not defined by the way you were raised, nor are you stuck in the same patterns. Each day you choose to parent differently, you are choosing a different future for your family.

Embrace grace. This journey isn’t about becoming the “perfect” parent; it’s about being honest with yourself and doing the best you can with the tools you have. As you heal, you’re learning to give yourself the same grace and compassion that you give to your child. When you slip up, forgive yourself and come back to the intention you set—to be better, to do better, not just for your children, but for your own soul.

In the moments when you feel overwhelmed or stuck, remember this: healing and breaking cycles is not a linear path. It’s a dance between progress and setbacks. But with every step you take toward healing, you’re reshaping the narrative for your children. And that—that is an act of profound love, courage, and transformation. You are rewriting your legacy, and that’s a gift to your children and to yourself.

Is there anything else you want to say to the women and mothers reading this? 

To all the women and mothers reading this, I want you to hear this truth: You are not alone. You are not alone in your struggles, your pain, or your journey of healing. You are not alone in the messiness, the overwhelm, or the days when you feel like you can’t breathe. You are not alone in your desire to do better, to heal, and to break free from the patterns that have held you back for too long.

Being a mother is not easy, and we need to stop pretending like it is. We don’t need more surface-level “inspiration” that tells us to just “push through” or “keep going.” We need realness. We need to be honest about how hard it can be. We need to acknowledge that we are carrying the weight of not just our own healing, but our children’s future healing too. That’s a lot. And it’s okay to admit that it feels heavy sometimes.

But here’s the thing: You are capable. You are so much stronger than you realize. You have already shown up in ways you might not even see yet. You’ve made it through the darkest days, the hardest nights, the times when you didn’t think you could take another step. And guess what? You kept going. That’s powerful.

If you’re reading this and you know you need to heal, I want to tell you that healing is not a one-time thing. It’s not about getting to some “perfect” version of yourself where everything is fixed. Healing is a practice, a daily commitment to showing up for yourself. It’s about allowing yourself to be human, giving yourself grace, and not expecting yourself to have it all figured out. It’s about embracing the beauty of imperfection and realizing that you are worthy of love and care, just as you are.

I see you. I hear you. And I believe in you.

As mothers, we are so often expected to give everything of ourselves without pause, without recognition. But your well-being matters. Your happiness matters. Your peace matters. You cannot pour from an empty cup, and if you don’t take the time to care for yourself, you will burn out. It’s not selfish to prioritize your needs—it’s essential. When you are whole, when you are rested, when you are at peace, that is when you can show up as the mother you want to be. Not a perfect mother. But the one who is present, compassionate, and empowered.

I want you to understand that you have the power to break the cycles of pain, of trauma, of old ways that no longer serve you. You have the power to heal, to choose differently, and to create a life that feels aligned with your truth. It won’t always be easy, and there will be days when you doubt yourself, but you are worthy of this journey. You are worthy of healing. You are worthy of peace. You are worthy of being the mother you know you can be.

So, to every mother who is struggling, who is healing, who is trying to do better—I see you. You are not invisible. Your work matters. Your healing matters. And together, we will rise. Keep going. Keep healing. Keep choosing yourself. Because when you do, you’re not just changing your life—you’re changing the lives of your children and the generations that will follow. And that is the most powerful thing you can do. You are enough. You always have been. And I love you, yes you.

X Desiree

I have no words to describe how powerful and important this piece by Desiree is and the work she is doing. Contact Desiree is you resonate and need to be held by this soul mama and alchemist of healing: https://www.instagram.com/thehealingmotherjourney/