Four years ago, I left an abusive relationship with my youngest son’s father.
I had already spent years writing children’s wellbeing books and developing programs. But after I left, my work shifted. Emotional literacy in early childhood became deeply personal.
I wanted to help break a cycle.
My son has always felt things deeply. He has a huge, loving heart and a fierce, determined streak. I didn’t want him to grow up believing those big feelings were something wrong with him. I wanted him to understand what he was feeling, find words for it and know he could ask for help.
So I started making resources for him. Stories, activities and simple practices we could use together. We explored what feelings might feel like in his body. We practised naming them, taking a pause and finding our way through hard moments.
And I had to practise alongside him.
Leaving an abusive relationship didn’t mean my body immediately felt safe. I carried hurt and fear with me, sometimes noticing them in my reactions before I had words for them.
As I helped my son recognise what was happening inside him and communicate how he felt, I had to begin doing the same for myself. I had to notice where I was holding tension, pause when an old reaction surfaced and consciously make space to release some of what I had been carrying.
Sometimes that meant movement. Sometimes it meant rest, support or allowing myself to feel something I had pushed aside. I had to learn to apologise when I got things wrong and come back to a conversation when we were both ready.
I couldn’t teach him that feelings were safe to notice while ignoring my own. We have both been learning, in different ways, how to feel something difficult, find words for it and come back to connection.
Now my son is about to start kindy. I know he will learn to read and write. Those skills matter. But given our story, another kind of readiness has been at the centre of these years for me.
Can he recognise when something feels wrong? Can he tell a trusted adult what he needs? Can he ask for help? Can we repair after a difficult moment?
We’ve come a long way. He can talk to me about how he feels. He checks in with me, too. Sometimes he recognises when he needs to apologise. He is still a child with big feelings, and I am still learning alongside him. This was never about reaching a point where neither of us struggles. It’s about having ways to find each other again.
That is why I created Colour Me Kindy Ready.
It grew from the tools and conversations I wanted close at hand for my own child. It’s for families who want to prepare their children for school as whole people, giving emotional readiness care and attention alongside letters and numbers.
It’s also the thread connecting what I’m building at MultiRay. Children need opportunities to practise these skills through stories, movement, conversation and real experiences. The adults beside them need support, tools and community, too.
I know that deeply as a parent who has been trying to change a pattern while raising a child. For me, this work has never been only about teaching children to name their feelings. It has also meant learning to listen to my own body, finding support and practising a different way forward.
There is more I want to share about that part of the journey, in my own time.
Today, I wanted to tell you the truth behind these resources. I made them with my son in mind and with so much love.
If you’re raising a child while trying to give them the emotional language, safety and support you wish you’d had, I made them for you, too.