Even during celebrations, family dynamics remind me how essential boundaries are. August and September are full of birthdays and celebrations in our home, and with Mason’s and Carter’s (our two boys) back to back, I was shown again how the universe confirms boundaries in ways both subtle and powerful.
This year, though, I noticed how family estrangement weaves its way even into joyful days. With Mason’s birthday, gifts from my dad arrived through my siblings. Packages were handed off like neutral objects, but to me, it created an energetic static: I felt bypassed as a mother, as though the line of communication was being deliberately rerouted.
I’ve written before about my journey of burnout and rebuilding as a neurodivergent mom, and the lessons there also showed me how important it is to honor my boundaries in family relationships.
Two days before Carter’s birthday, I gently named it with my sister. I explained that when she or my brother act as intermediaries, it feels strange and heavy over here. My dad and I are not in an active relationship — he doesn’t want to pretend things are normal — and yet gifts sent through my siblings land in my home with a confusing undertone. I asked her, lovingly, that if he were to offer gifts again, she consider declining. But I also made it clear: I trust her to act in alignment with her own relationships.
This conversation mattered. It was a declaration of my boundary: I am willing to receive, but not in ways that bypass me. After Carter’s birthday party, I noticed how even moments of joy bring up the importance of boundaries — especially in complicated family dynamics. The universe has a way of confirming when we’re holding them clearly, and this time, it came through a dragonfly.
Carter’s birthday was pure joy — friends, laughter, and childlike delight. When we returned home, there was a pile of packages on the porch. At the bottom of the stack, in a plain brown box, was something I knew instantly: a gift from my dad.
That knowing was my claircognizance — the spiritual gift of clear knowing. It wasn’t logic. It wasn’t evidence. I just touched the box and knew it was his. About 15 minutes later, after moving it to where we would open it, I finally saw the return address label confirming what I already felt.
Inside were thoughtful things for Carter. He lit up immediately, already using them. I felt that familiar inner wrestling:
“Do I respond? How do I respond?”, but in the end, I chose a simple text:
“Thank you for Carter’s gifts. He’s already using and loving the LiteBrite. Thank you for thinking of him.”
Polite. Neutral. Boundaried. Gratitude without entanglement.
Gift-giving in estranged family dynamics is never neutral. It carries layers:
For me, this was where radical acceptance came in. I no longer bleed out in the threshold of the door, begging to be seen or understood. The door is open — but if my dad wants to knock, that choice is his.
I can accept his capacity for what it is: limited.
And I can also accept my own needs: clarity, peace, and space.
This is what boundaries look like in practice: acknowledgment without overexposure, gratitude without debt, and neutrality instead of performance. Estrangement often breaks cycles—I unpack that here.
Navigating these moments often leaves an energetic residue. One of my go-to ways of clearing that heaviness is with a sea salt bath soak — it’s a simple ritual that helps me reset after complicated exchanges. When I’m feeling extra heavy, I incorporate my crystals and candles as well.
Some of my favorite crystals include:
Looking back, I can also see how the universe rearranged things to honor this boundary.
My sister had been traveling cross-country just days before Carter’s birthday. Her original flight was canceled for mechanical issues, then rescheduled and delayed multiple times. By the time she landed, near midnight, my dad was the one to pick her up. She stayed at his house only for the night, exhausted from the disruptions.
Energetically, I believe those delays weren’t random. They shifted her field. They shaped my dad’s field. They removed the possibility of gifts being routed through her, despite the request coming directly into her field. The bypass I feared was cleared without me having to fight it. The package ended up mailed directly instead.
That was the boundary being upheld in real time — not just by me, but by circumstance.
The universe often confirms with signs—I explain some of those here.
The morning after Carter’s birthday, as I sat on my back patio reflecting, a dragonfly appeared.
It hovered about four feet in front of me, dancing in the air. Then it circled back. And then, when Carter came outside to talk to me, it appeared again. Just thirty seconds later, it returned a third time.
It wasn’t a jewel-toned dragonfly, but a darker blue-gray — the color of truth tempered by maturity. Spiritually, dragonflies symbolize transformation, clarity, and piercing through illusion. For me, it was confirmation: “You saw clearly. You acted clearly. Your boundary is in place.”
For me, these synchronicities feel like little invitations to pause and integrate. Sometimes I’ll light one of my Inner Light candles during these moments and breathe gratitude — it’s a way of marking the shift and setting the intention to hold the boundary with peace.
The timing couldn’t have been scripted better. From the brown box, to the choice of my words, to the delays in my sister’s travel, to the dragonfly circling again and again — the universe had been choreographing this moment all along.
What struck me most is that Carter gets to receive without baggage. He ripped open the box with delight, free of confusion. That’s what boundaries do: they clear the energetic static so the next generation isn’t entangled in what came before.
Estrangement doesn’t need to be loud or dramatic.
Sometimes it’s a simple text.
Sometimes it’s a decision not to ask siblings to carry weight that isn’t theirs.
Sometimes it’s allowing the mail to do its job.
And sometimes, it’s a dragonfly dancing in your yard three times in one morning, reminding you that you are aligned.
I’ve also found journaling to be an anchor practice here — putting words on paper creates clarity when emotions are swirling. I designed the Ashes Journal: Writing Through Collapse for those moments when you need to pour it all out, and the Healing + Aligned Journal for grounding back into what feels true after.
Here’s what this season has taught me:
Your worth isn’t determined by whether someone knocks. It’s confirmed by the clarity you hold within yourself. And when the universe sends a dragonfly circling three times in one morning, you know your soul is on the right path.
If you’re navigating similar dynamics, two books I’ve leaned on are Set Boundaries, Find Peace by Nedra Glover Tawwab and Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay Gibson. Both offer practical wisdom for anyone re-learning what it means to stay clear and grounded in family dynamics.
When I navigate dynamics like these, I lean on ritual and tangible practices to anchor my energy. Here are a few that support me:
And when I want to shift the focus entirely, I reach for my Gratitude Journal — because even in the middle of complicated relationships, there’s always room to name the bright spots.
Disclosure: Some links are affiliate, which means I may earn a small commission if you purchase, at no cost to you. I only share tools I personally use or genuinely recommend.
If you’ve ever had a parent show up in ways that left you unsure how to respond — or if the universe has sent you confirmation that your boundaries were right where they needed to be — you’re not alone.
“Your worth isn’t proven by who accepts you — it’s confirmed by the boundaries you hold.“
-Cheryl Avila, Enjoy Expansion
Has the universe ever confirmed your boundaries? Share in the comments — I’d love to hear your story.
And if you’d like more reflections like this, plus tools and rituals for navigating family dynamics with clarity, sign up for my newsletter. I share stories, practices, and resources to support your own path of expansion.
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September 17, 2025
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