What happens when the person who broke you never says they’re sorry Content Note: Mentions parental addiction and emotional neglect. The Waiting That Never Ends There’s a special kind of ache that comes from waiting for words that may never come.You imagine them sometimes — the apology, the soft voice, the moment where they finally see the damage their choices caused. You rehearse what you’d say back, how you’d finally exhale. But the phone stays silent.And the silence itself becomes an answer. When you grow up with an addicted or absent parent, you learn early that love doesn’t always translate…
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There are days when life feels like a blur of appointments, meltdowns, laundry piles, and coffee gone cold before I remember to drink it. Days when I’m moving from one need to the next, one “Mama, help!” to another, and I wonder when I last took a real breath or sat in the quiet calm. But then—somewhere between the chaos—tiny joys find me. They slip quietly into the cracks of an ordinary day, whispering, “Here. This is still beautiful.” These are the moments that keep me grounded. The small, tender threads that weave through the hard days and remind me…
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When people hear the word grief, they often think of the loss of a loved one, endings, funerals, and goodbyes. But there’s another kind – quiet, sneaky, invisible, tucked in between therapy appointments, meltdowns, and everyday routines. The kind that shows up unexpectedly in the spaces between what is and what we thought would be. For the parents of autistic or special needs children, this grief is not about our children themselves – it’s about the versions of life we once imagined. The Life You Dreamed Of… and the One That Chose You When you first see that little blue…
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Hi there, and welcome to Tiny Humans, Mighty Moments — I’m so glad you’re here. My name is Wren Colson, and I’m a mama of two young boys navigating life. I live in a quiet little town along Florida’s east coast, where the days are sun-drenched and salty, and life is both beautifully chaotic and deeply challenging. This blog was born from the quiet in-between moments — those little pockets of reflection that happen while folding laundry, watching the boys dig in the dirt, or lying awake thinking about everything and nothing at once. I hope for this space to…
