Women With Confidence Therapeutic Services, LLC

09/18/2025

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Women With Confidence Therapeutic Services LLC

09/05/2025

Sooo proud of my new business cards🥹🙌🏾❤️

07/14/2025

Discover a space where your confidence can truly shine! 🌟 Women With Confidence Therapeutic Services is committed to empowering women through personalized therapeutic support. 💙 Explore how we can help you build inner strength and mental well-being by visiting our website today.

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06/30/2025

-“Imperfections”-

“Wow… you are looking so good.”

That’s what I said to myself this afternoon, standing in front of the mirror after getting home and settled from the morning’s workout.

For the first time in a long time, I really saw myself—and I liked what I saw.

Arms? Toned.
Skin? Clear.
Complexion? Evened out from the sun’s warm rays (thank you, outdoor workouts!).
Even my postpartum belly? Smaller. Stretch marks? Minimal.

And the scar across my back—from a surgery I once felt so self-conscious about?
It doesn’t bother me like it used to.
I’ve been working to minimize it, sure. But I’ve also learned to embrace it.
It’s part of my story.
A reminder of what I’ve overcome.

I remember after giving birth to my son hating what I saw in the mirror. With my daughter, I seemed to “snap back” immediately.

With my son? My stomach looked bloated. I had stretch marks. My face seemed full, and my old jeans wouldn’t fit.

I wondered if this was now the new me.
Would my body ever be the same?

But today…
I felt proud.
Not perfect. But more like me again.

I took a moment to honor my body.
To truly admire and appreciate all that it has done—and continues to do—for me.

This body carried two children.
It provided my daughter with nourishment for her first year of life.
It’s doing the same for my 4-month-old son.

This body got me through college.
It has powered me through hard workouts, long days, late nights, lots of travel, and joyful adventures.

I thank God for every part of me—even the imperfections.
Because I’m not the same woman I was before motherhood.
I’m better.
Wiser.
Stronger.
More faithful.
More confident.

There’s so much pressure on mothers to “bounce back.”
But I’ve learned that I don’t need to go back—I’ve evolved.

Just like a caterpillar in the cocoon, I am ready for my metamorphosis. Every past stage of life—the challenges, the times when I doubted myself, the anxiety and fear—have all prepared me for this moment.

I am ready to emerge like the beautiful butterfly I am.
Brand new and eager to spread my wings.

So here’s to you—wherever you are in your metamorphosis journey.

Celebrate your stretch marks, your scars, your story.

They’re not imperfections.
They’re proof that you’ve lived, loved, and grown. They are a sign of your strength.

And they are beautiful.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT 🩷

06/27/2025

“It’s Like Driving a Bus”🚌

This morning, I did something I’d never done before:
I brought both of my young children to the pediatrician on my own.

My toddler had to stay home from daycare last minute, and my husband—who usually helps with appointments—had a work meeting he couldn’t miss. So it was just me, the kids, and a whole lot of figuring it out as I went.

On the car ride over, I was already strategizing.

Should I bring the double stroller inside? Will it even fit through the waiting room or exam room doors? Am I doing too much? Should I carry the baby and hold my toddler’s hand instead?

I was second-guessing everything, already feeling anxious about managing it all solo. But then I looked at my toddler in the back seat—full of energy—and knew immediately:

If she’s not secured in that stroller, she is 100% going to make a run for it.

And listen—I had already finished my morning workout for the day, and I was not in the mood to sprint through a doctor’s office. 😅

Decision made.

Toddler up front, entertained by her iPad.
Baby in the back, secured in his car seat, clicked into the stroller with ease.
Diaper bag clipped to the handles like a mom who’d done this a million times before.

We rolled in like a little mom parade.

As I was checking in, another mom looked over with a warm smile and said:

“I love your setup!”

I laughed. “Thanks! It’s like driving a bus.”

She laughed too. She had two kids as well—an 8-year-old and a newborn—and there we were, two moms at different stages of motherhood, crossing paths in the pediatrician’s office.

And in that moment, something shifted for me.

She didn’t know it was my first time handling an appointment on my own with both kids.
She didn’t know I’d been unsure of myself just 10 minutes earlier in the parking lot.
She didn’t know about the mental load I’d carried just getting us out the door.

But her kind words did something powerful:
They helped me see myself through her eyes—capable, creative, calm, and confident.
They reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

There are moms all around us doing the best they can. Some have newborns. Some have school-aged kids. Some, like me, are figuring it out moment by moment, choice by choice.

And sometimes, one mom seeing another is all it takes to change the tone of your whole day.

That stroller? It wasn’t just a setup.
It was a survival system—a choice I almost talked myself out of until another mom reminded me I’d made the right call.

So to that mom in the waiting room—thank you.

And to every mom reading this:
• If you’ve ever questioned your choices—trust yourself.
• If you’ve ever felt invisible—know that you are seen.
• And if you see another mom doing her best—say something kind. Your words might mean more than you know.

Because sometimes, motherhood really is like driving a bus.

You approach the wheel with caution.
You stay alert and steady, mindful of every turn.
You navigate unexpected detours on a tight schedule.
And through it all, you carry precious passengers—safely, lovingly, and often without applause.

But make no mistake: you are doing important, beautiful work.
And you’re not driving alone.

🌸Chelsea Edwards, LMFT🌸

06/24/2025

“The Invisible Work of a Good Man: Thank God for Good Husbands”🙏🏾❤️

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to have a true partner in parenting. Motherhood is tough—especially in the early stages. When the days are long, the sleep is broken, and the to-do list never ends—it’s easy to focus on what feels overwhelming. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, we’re reminded of just how supported we are.

This morning, I woke up early—6:00 AM—to try and get a head start on my day before my toddler woke up. I climbed out of bed, picked up the baby, and headed down to the kitchen to begin my morning pump and get the baby fed.

As I prepped his bottle, I looked out the kitchen window—and there he was. My husband, outside at 6:00 in the morning while the house was still quiet and the sun hadn’t fully risen yet, watering the grass and spraying bug repellent.

It may seem small, but to me, it felt huge. That simple act told me he was protecting our space, thinking ahead, keeping our home safe and comfortable for the kids and for me. And he was doing it before his day had even officially begun.

After finishing the pump, I went to store the milk in the fridge and was met with another wave of gratitude. Our refrigerator was full—fresh strawberries, apples, grapes, crisp lettuce, celery, asparagus….Eggs, cheese, grilled chicken, etc. Even a container of fresh cookies in the pantry. The basics and the little luxuries.

My husband had made a grocery run the day before while I stayed home with the kids. The weight of not having to think about what we’d eat this week felt like such a blessing.

I walked over to the kitchen sink…spotless! Not a crumb in sight. Dishwasher already loaded, and clean dishes were sorted and put away.

Soon, our toddler was awake. I got her cleaned up, dressed, and brought her downstairs for breakfast. Just as I was about to get her settled, my phone lit up with a call from my husband, already downstairs in his home office.

“I just wanted to let you know I already got Andrea’s breakfast ready for her in the microwave. When you’re ready to head out, let me know so I can help you and the kids to the car.”

That small phone call made me feel so seen. So appreciated. It reminded me that I am not alone in this.

After breakfast, we packed up and headed out. My husband carried the baby’s car seat, strapped him in, and helped secure our daughter in her seat too. He kissed them both on their foreheads, wished us a safe drive, and waved us off. As I pulled away, I glanced at the gas tank—and smiled again. Full. Another thoughtful task quietly handled.

All of this—the groceries, the bug spray, the gas tank, the breakfast, the car seat buckles—might look like background noise. But today, I saw it clearly. It’s what partnership looks like. It’s how love shows up.

Because yes, being a mom to littles is intense. It’s often isolating. And it can sometimes feel like you’re doing it all alone. But when I slow down and really look, I realize: I am able to do what I do because he does what he does. This is what it means to be a team.

So to my hardworking, loving, and selfless husband: Thank you. Thank you for showing up, day after day. Thank you for making the load lighter, even when it’s hard. Thank you for being my teammate in this beautiful, chaotic season of life.

And to those reading—if you have someone in your life who is showing up for you, who is supporting you in the quiet, behind-the-scenes ways: tell them thank you. Life moves fast. Gratitude spoken aloud matters.

✨When is the last time you told someone in your village, “Thank you”?✨

🩷Chelsea Edwards,LMFT

06/20/2025

“Running Late, Running Tired, Still Running” 🏃🏾‍♀️

I haven’t been to my Mommy & Me workout class in over two weeks.
Between catering to two littles, planning a mini vacation for our anniversary, and just riding the waves of daily life, my body couldn’t seem to get with the program.

I had told myself:
“Okay, when we return from our trip, it’s back to the workouts. Back to eating lean.”

But after coming home on a Sunday evening and waking up Monday morning…
my body said, No thanks.

Exhausted from traveling, caretaking, and constant doing, I gave myself another day off. I felt guilty—but also overworked—so I whispered:
“It’s okay. Tomorrow, we’ll get back to it.”

Well… tomorrow came.
And I could already feel the resistance setting in—not necessarily about the workout itself, but the process of even getting to the class.

Getting to my workout class isn’t just about throwing on leggings and driving over.
It’s the baby feedings. Soothing baby cries. Diaper changes. Brushing toddler teeth. Wiping little faces.
It’s combing hair, dressing tiny humans, and getting myself to look like a functional adult.

And today? It felt like the cost outweighed the benefit.
I felt like I just didn’t have it in me.

But then I paused. Took a breath. And reminded myself:
“I’ve already missed so many days. If I keep waiting to feel 100%, I might never go back.”

That thought gave me the tiniest push I needed.

I made things simple:
✅Picked an outfit for my daughter that didn’t need ironing
✅Let her brush her own teeth (she hates when I do it anyway)
✅Got breakfast going
✅Fed the baby

Before I knew it, we were out the door.
I made it to class. I felt tired—but I also felt proud.
I had shown up.

During our cardio circuit, I watched other moms run fast with their strollers. Most of them passed me. I felt a twinge of defeat. “I’m behind”, I whispered to myself.

But then I gently reminded myself:
“Go at your own pace. You’re here. You’re moving. That’s enough.”

Here’s the thing:
Depression tells us that if we can’t give it our all, we shouldn’t give anything.
That if it’s not perfect, it’s pointless.
That if the list isn’t all crossed off, we’ve failed.

I’m here to squash that all-or-nothing thinking.

You don’t have to be at your best to show up.
Your tank doesn’t have to be full.
You don’t need a perfect attitude, a clean kitchen, or a flawless routine.

All you need is the courage to show up.
Even if your “best” today looks different than yesterday, last week, or last month.

The more you choose to keep showing up—messy, tired, imperfect—the more consistent and grounded you become.
And that? That’s success.

-Chelsea Edwards,LMFT

✨Can you think of a time when you limited yourself because of all-or-nothing thinking?

06/17/2025

“Burnt Toast and Baby Snuggles”

Last night, I felt like burnt toast—crispy, overdone, and not much use to anyone.

I wanted to go to bed early. My kids had other plans.
My daughter wouldn’t fall asleep. My son wanted constant cuddles and skin-to-skin. My husband and I tag-teamed, using every soothing strategy we knew—gentle voices, prayers, patience, repeat.
Eventually, they slept. But by then, I was done.
Fried. Cooked. Stick a fork in me.

This morning? It felt like I got hit by a bus.
And then I realized, my exhaustion wasn’t just about last night.
It was everything—all the mental tabs I had open:

🌀 Laundry
🌀 Packing for our first family vacation
🌀 What’s for dinner?
🌀 When will I make it back to a workout class?
🌀 Bottles, pumping, text replies, dishes… the never-ending loop

My brain felt like a laptop with 17 tabs open and zero battery left.

So I made an executive decision:
After lunch, my toddler, my baby, and I went upstairs and took a nap. A real one.

And let me tell you—best nap of our lives.
I woke up more energized. More grounded. Lighter. Less irritable.
Not to mention, I woke up to a clean kitchen, and the smell of grilled chicken thighs prepared by my thoughtful husband while I rested (wow, he had no idea how much I really needed that!)

I let myself be taken care of. And that mattered too.

Here’s what I’m learning:

✨ Rest isn’t a luxury. It’s survival.
✨It’s okay to allow others to help you—it doesn’t mean that you’ve failed
✨ Feeling exhausted doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’re human.

So if today you’re feeling like burnt toast—overdone, overstimulated, just trying to get through—take the nap. Or the break. Or the deep breath.

Your body will thank you.
And so will your mind, your spirit, and your family.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT🩷

06/14/2025

“Motherhood is a Ministry”

🌴 🌴✈️ This year’s anniversary trip looked a little different.

In the past, my husband and I would fly to the Bahamas for a few days while my mom watched our toddler. But this year, we’ve got a new little love in our lives—just 4 months old—and I wasn’t quite ready to leave him behind.

So we packed up everyone and headed down to Florida for a family-style getaway.

The flight wasn’t bad—just a couple of hours. But after settling into our beachside hotel, I was quickly reminded:

Traveling with two kids under five is no joke. 😅

The constant diaper changes, feedings, pumping, burping, toddler-wrangling, face wiping, and snack passing… by the time we were finally ready to leave the room, I already needed a nap.

And honestly? Some days, after caring for two little humans who need me for everything… I barely have the energy to care for myself.

🌸 Motherhood is beautiful. But it is also a major sacrifice.

In the chaos of it all, God reminded me of something:

👉🏽 Motherhood is a ministry.

Not glamorous. Not quiet. Not easy. But meaningful beyond words.

Every day, I pour into my children—feeding them, protecting them, nurturing them, guiding them. I think about the day they’ll be grown and making their own choices, and I remember that God has entrusted me to guide them in these early years.

It’s a huge responsibility.
A tiring one.
A rewarding one.
And sometimes… an overwhelming one.

There are days I want to quit.
Days I’m flat-out exhausted.
Moments where I ask myself, “Am I even doing this right?”

Most times, I have no idea what I’m doing. And sometimes it feels like I don’t even know who I am anymore.
But I do know this—my heart is pure, my intentions are good, and I’m doing my best.

And in those tender, tired moments, I remember:

💛 This is still ministry.

And even when I feel unseen—God sees me.

He sees how much I care.
He sees my effort.
He sees the vision I hold for my children and our family.
And He shows me grace.

Even when I feel like I’m losing pieces of the woman I used to be—
God is still gently shaping me into the woman I’m becoming.

So no, I’m not perfect.
But I am present.
And that’s what matters most.

⸻

✨ For any mama out there who’s tired, second-guessing herself, or wondering if what she’s doing is enough… I see you.
More importantly—God sees you.
And He is so proud of the love you give. 💕

In the end, I believe we are all rewarded.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT

06/11/2025

“It takes a village…And a nail tech 💅”

Today, I decided to treat myself to something small but meaningful—getting my nails done. It’s the little gift I try to give myself each month. A tiny act of self-care that reminds me I’m a whole person, not just a mom on autopilot.

With my toddler at daycare and baby boy fast asleep, it felt like the perfect moment to sneak in this well-deserved reward. I strolled into the nail salon,stroller in tow, silently praying I could make it through the next 90 minutes without a baby meltdown.

And for a while, it was peaceful.

But right on cue—halfway through my acrylic full set—baby boy woke up. His bright, alert eyes locked onto mine with a look that clearly said, “Mommy, where are we?”

Inside, I started to panic. “Pleaseee don’t start crying in this salon”, I begged silently. I could feel the clock ticking—counting the minutes before he’d want out of that stroller.

Anxiously watching for signs that fussiness was about to begin, just as the nail tech was about to start painting my French manicure, the whining started.

Then something unexpected happened.

The woman who had done my pedicure earlier walked over. Without a word, she noticed the baby bottle tucked into the stroller cup holder, pulled it out, and gently started feeding my son right there in the salon.

I was stunned—it was my very first visit at this salon, and I was being treated like family!

I hadn’t asked her to help. I didn’t even expect it. But in that moment… she saw me. She saw a mother just trying to carve out a sliver of care for herself.

Not only did she feed him patiently, she stayed to entertain him after he finished—playing peekaboo, making a little puppet out of his sock, and keeping him smiling until I was done. It was such a small act, but to me, it felt monumental.

I’ve always heard the phrase “it takes a village to raise a child,” and today, I felt that in the most unexpected place—a nail salon. A stranger became part of my village, not with judgment, but with compassion.

Because of her kindness, I was able to enjoy both my manicure and pedicure without worry. I made sure to thank her from the bottom of my heart and left a little extra tip as a small token of my deep gratitude.

Driving home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the grace I was shown today. It felt like a message that God was sending me.

So often, moms are met with side-eyes or whispers when our babies cry in public. We’re expected to disappear, to stay home, to not inconvenience others. But moments like this remind me that kindness still exists—and that grace is something we all need more of.

And here’s what I’m taking away from today:

✨ If others can offer me grace, I can offer it to myself too.
✨ Never underestimate the power of a small act of kindness.
✨ And always, always thank the people who make your day just a little bit easier.

To the woman in the nail salon—you reminded me what community looks like. And for that, I’m truly grateful.

Has a stranger ever showed you unexpected kindness in motherhood? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments.

🩷Chelsea Edwards, LMFT

06/09/2025

“Bye, Bye Edges! See you next year!”

Last night, my entire hairline decided to take a vacation.

Let me explain.

I had finally taken down the braids I installed right after giving birth to my son. Those braids were my saving grace during the early chaos of newborn life — a protective style that helped me feel put together with little to no effort. As a woman of color, I’ve always known the value and strength we carry in our hair. Those braids weren’t just a hairstyle — they were survival.

But after what felt like thousands of braids and hours of careful take-down, I treated my scalp to a well-deserved wash and condition. I pulled out the blow dryer thinking I’d be done in 30 minutes.

Two hours later, I was still standing in my bathroom surrounded by hair — and not in a good way.

By the end of it all, I had both my newborn and toddler staring at me giving me major side eye.

On the bathroom counter was a clump of hair so large it looked like a small animal. I stared at it, wide-eyed, knowing exactly what it was:

The postpartum shedding had officially arrived.

I took a photo of the clump, still in shock , and immediately texted my mom. “Is this normal?” I asked. “Did you ever go through this too?”

“Yes!” She confirmed, normalizing the experience for me before following up with a comforting phone call.

And that’s when it hit me. So many other mothers are silently going through this, or have been through this, and just don’t talk about it. They just keep showing up day after day.

I’ve Been Here Before… But It Still Hit

I went through something similar after my first child, so I knew it was coming. But still — seeing it happen again, watching my once full, thick hairline fade into thin patches?

Well, let’s just say… the shock still hits.

All I could do was stare in the mirror and think to myself “Girl, what are you going to do? Your
edges have packed their bags. They really said, ‘Bye Chelsea! See you next year!’” 😭

My edges got to go on vacation before I did this year, and I did not get the memo. They left without notice. Without any time off request! 😅

It’s dramatic. It’s emotional. It’s part of the process.

And it’s one of those “invisible” postpartum experiences that we don’t always talk about — but we should.

So here’s to normalizing the not so glamorized parts of motherhood.

So what now?

My hairline may have gone MIA, but you know what hasn’t?

Me!

My strength. My sense of humor. My willingness to show up—even when my edges decided to clock out like 5pm on a Friday(The disrespect!!)

If you’re like me, and going through postpartum shedding right now, let me be your reminder. You’re still that girl. Still beautiful. With or without baby hairs.

And those missing baby hairs? Well, they’re a reminder of the great sacrifice that we put forward as mothers, way before our babies even make it earth side.

The hard work that went into taking care of our bodies for 9 months while the baby is developing, to literally keeping our babies alive by providing nutrients to them and trading sleep for late nights and cuddles.

My edges might be on vacation, but I’m still here—nurturing, healing, and doing the work of showing up as a whole, evolving woman. And there’s so much beauty in that!

If you decided to show up today, just know, you are enough.

-Chelsea Edwards, LMFT🩷🩷🩷

06/06/2025

“America runs on Dunkin…I run on 4 hours of sleep and Jesus”

This morning, I did something that has never happened to me in my 33 years of life.

After a jam-packed morning of getting my toddler ready for school and trying to entertain my infant son, I decided I earned an iced coffee — and, admittedly, skipped my morning workout class.

I pulled into the Dunkin’ drive-thru… and drove straight to the pick-up window.

“An order for Kate?” the cashier asked.

That’s when it hit me: I had completely bypassed the ordering speaker — without placing a single order. 😅😂

I was so embarrassed. All I could do was laugh and try to explain through the car window:
“I’m so sorry… mom brain!”

She laughed with me and kindly took my order right there at the window. I was grateful — not just for the coffee, but for her understanding and grace.

In that moment, I realized: I really needed that coffee more than I thought.
I’m literally on autopilot — just doing my best to keep everything moving.

And I know I’m not alone. There’s hundreds and thousands of other moms out there just like me, on the grind.

It’s so easy to overlook just how much effort mothers pour into the small, daily things: the sleep deprivation, the constant multitasking, the quiet overwhelm, the mental tabs we keep open for everyone else.

This is what motherhood looks like for me right now.
It gets chaotic. It’s tiring. There’s moments of laughter and there’s a lot of love.

And it’s okay for all of these things to exist simultaneously.

I’m learning to be grateful for the people who meet me with patience and kindness — because I need a lot of it. And it’s a reminder to myself, to show myself the same love and grace.

So the next time you see a mom out in the world, especially one with little kids, offer her a smile. Give her some grace.
You never know how much she needs it❤️

Chelsea Edwards, LMFT