It's everything. If I'm not achieving or coping I don't really know who I am.

I'm capable and I know it, but it doesn't define me. I can put it down.

I've always been the one who handles things. Needing help feels like failure.

I take pride in what I do but I don't need it to feel ok about myself.

I used to. I'm not sure I know where she went.

Yes, it's not always easy to protect but I know what it is.

Motherhood has consumed everything. I don't remember what I liked or wanted before this.

I have things that are mine and they matter to me. They keep me grounded.

I know what I need. I'm just not sure I'm allowed to want it.

I have a reasonable sense of what fills me up and I act on it sometimes.

Honestly I'm not sure I know anymore. I've spent so long focused on everyone else I've lost track

I know what I need and I protect it. Not perfectly, but it's on my radar

I have high standards but I can let things go when I need to

I over-plan, over-prepare, or over-research. If I can control the outcome I feel safer.

I notice the urge to control but I can catch it before it runs the show.

It's everywhere. The house, the schedule, food, work. If something slips I can't settle.

Rarely. My emotions felt like too much, or like they would upset someone.

Yes, mostly. I felt safe to feel things without consequences.

Never. I learned early to manage my feelings quietly and manage theirs too.

Sometimes. It depended on the mood in the house

No, my body feels reasonably supported most of the time.

I'm living with something right now and on bad days it makes the emotional load feel impossible.

I've been through something significant in the past. I'm through it but my body still carries it.

I have some things going on but I manage around them and it doesn't dominate.

I make some effort but honestly I'm usually last on the list.

I have a few things I protect and they genuinely help me stay level.

I know what I need to do. I just don't do it. There's nothing left by the time I get to me.

It's not perfect but I take it seriously. What I put in my body and how I rest matters to me.

Relieved. Like I can finally breathe.

Pleased, but my day doesn't depend on it.

It genuinely sets the tone for my whole day. When she's ok, I'm ok.

I notice it, but I can hold my own state fairly independently of hers.

It's true and I've never said it out loud before. I manage everything around them to avoid it.

I feel it sometimes but I can usually steady myself before it takes over.

It's completely true. Their emotional state controls mine and I am scared of getting things wrong.

I recognise the feeling but I'm starting to understand what's driving it in me.

I feel it rising but there's enough of a gap that I can choose what to do next.

My chest tightens or my jaw clenches. I try and hold it together but it leaks out.

I freeze or shut down. I feel like a rabbit in the headlights.

I notice the stress and I can usually pause before it takes over.

Wired and shaky long after it's over. Like my body didn't get the memo.

Drained, but I move on fairly quickly.

Numb. Disconnected. Like I had to leave to survive it.

Exhausted. I replay it for hours but I settle eventually.

I take a breath and try to pause.

I shut down and avoid the conflict completely.

I don't always get it right but I can usually stay with it.

I lose it. Completely. Every time I think I've cracked it, I haven't.

Constantly. My body never fully relaxes, even when it's quiet.

Sometimes, mostly when I'm tired or already stretched.

Rarely. I notice it but I can usually settle back down.

Every single day. The unpredictability has just become the baseline.

I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this.

I handled some moments well today.

I am failing. And I don't know how to stop.

I wish I hadn't snapped like that but I can see what happened and I know how to repair.

Something is fundamentally wrong with my child.

This is hard. But I can do it.

She's not giving me a hard time. She's having a hard time

I cannot handle this anymore.

Quite often. I replay what I said but I let it go eventually.

Almost always. I genuinely worry I am making her worse.

Most of the time. It sits in my body and I can't shift it

Occasionally. I notice it and move on.

I listen, but I'm already thinking about what to say or do to fix it.

I try to stay quiet and let her talk, even when it's uncomfortable.

I jump in with solutions. It’s my job to make it better.

I ask questions and try to understand what she's actually feeling.

I try to keep the peace. Smooth it over, make it better and find solutions.

I notice when I'm slipping into a pattern and try to step back from it.

I feel hopeless like it's always happening to me and I have to deal with it all

I can see the dynamic clearly enough to know I don't want to be in it.