Welcome to May: The Ultimate Mashup of A-MAY-zing and MAY-hem - It's Cray-MAY-zing

I’ve spent the last few days trying to articulate what I want to say in this one, and my issue has been: there’s so much to say about May!

May used to be my absolute favorite month. If you know me, you know I’ve always loved celebrating my birthday—and have for as long as I can remember. Then, when I became a mother to my first baby girl, Mother’s Day took on an entirely new depth. When my son was born, a fresh layer of joy unfolded. And when my twin girls arrived, not only did Mother’s Day get even better, but I also got to share my birthday month with them. It felt like magic. May became A-MAY-zing.

And then...

What once felt like a month of celebration slowly became a month of dread. By April, I’d start to feel the first ripples of anxiety. If you’re a mom, dad, teacher, or simply a human navigating life this time of year, you probably know the feeling. It’s not just your calendar that’s packed—it’s your mind. Your nervous system. Your heart. The mental tabs multiply. The pressure mounts. And May—sweet, beautiful May—starts to feel like a battleground. It becomes MAY-hem.

I’ve been there.

I’ve been the young mom juggling permission slips, pickup lines, organizing class parties, and collecting money for teacher gifts. I’ve shown up late to one event because it overlapped with another. I’ve inwardly cursed teachers for cramming final classroom parties into the same week as major milestone events for older kids—ones that, at the time, felt far more important than frosting cupcakes and playing musical chairs. And let’s not forget Mother’s Day—that delicate dance of wanting to feel celebrated while also planning the brunch for myself (or for my own mother). I’ve felt overwhelmed, pissed off, and quietly ashamed for resenting a life I deeply wanted.

Because May can suck you dry. The undertow of expectations can pull you under. And joy? Who has time for that?

I remember the exact moment I realized I had become someone I didn’t recognize. I was sitting in the carpool line, waiting for the bell to ring so my kids could GET INTO THE CAR ALREADY. I’d tossed their snacks and drinks into the backseat and drove off to the next thing, my mind already ticking off the list I had going for the rest of the afternoon and evening. While half-listening to my kids talk about their day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. The fun, easygoing, attentive woman I used to be had been replaced by someone impatient, burned out, and silently raging—not just at the life I was living, but also at myself for being angry at all.

That moment cracked something open in me.

It wasn’t a full awakening—not yet. But it was a whisper. A flicker of clarity. I’d taken a yoga class that morning where the teacher casually said, “Go with the flow.” I’d heard it a thousand times. I say it now to my own students. But that day, I felt it—not in my mind, but in my body. I saw, as clearly as the reflection in that mirror, that I had a choice: to keep white-knuckling my way through life... or to soften. To release the grip. To stop paddling like hell against the current of a life I had helped create—and start flowing with it.

That shift didn’t change everything overnight. But it changed something. I felt lighter. More hopeful. I could breathe again. I felt my jaw loosen, I smiled, I stopped thinking two steps ahead and found the wherewithal to be present and enjoy the brief drive with my kids before dropping them off.

My yoga practice taught me about the pause. The breath. The space. But it was through the chakra system that I began to truly untangle the energetic knots keeping me stuck in overdrive. I started to see the unconscious identities I had wrapped around being everything to everyone: the people-pleasing, the overachiever, the surprising control freak, and more. And I began to release them—along with the guilt, shame, fear, and rage—one breath, one belief, one recognition of a limiting label at a time.

In yoga, we talk about taking the peace from the mat out into the world. But in May, that peace often disappears. It gets replaced with the noise of mental chaos, the weight of physical exhaustion, and the emotional pendulum swinging between the highs and lows, the celebrations and challenges, the cheers and tears that May presents. Even with the most supportive partner or team, it can still feel like it’s all on you.

And to add a little woo here—this month is cosmically intense. We’re navigating astrological and global energies many of us haven’t felt in our lifetimes. It’s not just your to-do list that’s overwhelming—it’s the world. Mercury retrograde. Eclipses. Pluto’s slow, transformational grind of death and rebirth. Politically, financially, environmentally—everything feels like it’s cracking open or crumbling. Whether you’re an empath or not, you might feel like we’re all collectively holding our breath, waiting to exhale.

So if you’re feeling wigged out, strung out, and unlike your usual self—you’re not alone. If you’re finding the time it takes to read this up to this point triggering or annoying, I urge you to breathe and keep reading. Because that version of yourself? It’s you—but also, there are other versions you remember that are also waiting to burst through. Not better ones per se, but truer ones. May asks—and pretty much forces—you to ponder: Whom do you want to be in the midst of it all?

That question hits especially hard for women (not digging on the dads) who are trying to do it all. Picture the working mom on Zoom calls while doing school drop-off. The leader running a business while remembering cleats, crafts, and cupcakes. The woman hosting the Mother’s Day brunch she secretly resents. She’s grateful. She’s capable. And she’s exhausted. Even with support—her spouse, her sitters, the older kids who thank-God finally got their license—it still feels like it’s all on her.

And when internal pressure collides with external expectations, it wreaks havoc on your system—until something has to give.

Your Root Chakra? Likely fried. You’re trying to stay grounded while sprinting between commitments. If you’re feeling anxious, scattered, or untethered, your foundation is waving a red flag. (Pun intended—as the Root Chakra’s color is red 😊) The fix isn’t more doing—it’s more being. What would it feel like to pause and anchor into your body, even for a minute? Even when you feel like you have zero minutes to yourself?

Your Sacral Chakra might be calling out, too. This is the space of joy, creativity, and emotional balance. However, so much of May feels like obligation, a lack of inspiration, and also an emotional minefield. You might feel excited and upbeat in the same house where you’re feeling nostalgic, quietly grieving how fast it’s all moving and how your kids are growing.

And your Solar Plexus—your power center, your decision-making area, your sense of self-confidence? Well, this month can make you feel like life is happening to you. Like you’re out of control, with your decisions being questioned by your kids, your spouse, maybe your coworkers or fellow room parents—which does a real number on your overall sense of self.

And then, to whittle it down through the remaining chakras: if left unchecked, the heart closes. The throat silences. The vision clouds. We feel disconnected—not only from others, but also from our pre-May selves—as we ping-pong from event to event.

I’ve lived through more than my share of Cray-MAY-zing seasons—parking lot meltdowns, whispered prayers in closets, tears of self-pity in yoga class. But I’ve also learned to meet May differently. With breath. With awareness. With the wisdom of looking inward and with joy. Remember that? We are allowed to come back to that.

So if May is spiraling you, I invite you to soften. Let someone else bring the snacks. Say no, even if you’re used to saying yes. Let the cupcakes be store-bought. Let “good enough” be enough. Ask for an extension on your work deadline. And more importantly, TALK. Tell your kids how you’re feeling. Tell your friends, your partner. Let them know you’re struggling if you are. That you love them even when you’re impatient. That you’re happy to show up—even if you’re late. That you’re human, and doing the very best you can.

Because guess what: as hard and as wonderful as May is, your kids are feeling it too. The finals, the prom, graduation, recitals, sports tournaments, senior nights, last meetings, last goodbyes, getting ready for camp, getting into or not getting into the school of their choice, or choosing to take a gap year in fear of your expectations, or moving off-campus back home to YOUR rules… your kids need you to model your best, most authentic self. Not the Pinterest version. The real version.

So remember: your energy sets the tone. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be present. You’re allowed to show up messy. Frazzled. Late and unshowered, unshaven, hangry, and disorganized. You’re allowed to be real.

You don’t need to become a better version of yourself—you just need to come home to the truest one. You’re not broken. You’re overwhelmed. And control? It’s overrated. We don’t lose ourselves in one big moment—we lose ourselves in a series of small ones, bypassing our needs, our truth, our energy. And we don’t even notice until something snaps.

For me, it was that moment in the pick-up line. That face in the rearview mirror. Not mine, exactly—but some shadow of it. Tense. Clenched. Unhappy. And in that moment, something shifted. And if you're at all resonating with my words and shared experiences, I'm here to remind you, a shift can happen for you, too. In a way that feels intentional and that works for you.

The path doesn’t begin with more hustle. It begins with a pause. For example, do this: Place your hand on your heart. Ask: Where am I? What do I need?

May isn’t here to punish you. It’s here to prepare you. May is a place-holder for other parts of life that will stir what’s stuck. And if we allow it to, May can be our greatest teacher that becomes a wildly transformative bridge between what is a-MAY-zing and what is causing MAY-hem to become cray-MAY-zing! How we find that balance and enjoy the mash-up may seem like an uphill battle, but it’s easier than you may think. And it’s essential and valuable to cultivating a life of joy in all areas of your life, in and out of work, in and in and out of the house.

At this age and stage—and with my Human Design as an Emotional Projector—I know I’m here to teach what I’ve lived. I don’t have it all figured out, but I’ve found something. A roadmap. A language. A system that helps me meet life’s demands without losing myself in them and that allows me to offer pathways to you, with compassion borne from experience. It’s the map I share in every way I’m invited to and the heart of the work I do. My calling is to offer this roadmap that aligns with your energy instead of draining it. And most of all, to remind you: YOU MATTER. Not for what you do. But for who you are.

I’m no longer the room mom. My four children are adults now. But I remember that season like it was yesterday. The frenzy and weight of it. The ache for a break in the chaotic schedule. The guilt for fighting and resenting it. The fear time was moving too fast. The anger and lack of control and rage about my desire for control. The disconnection from the most treasured relationships in my life with my husband, kids and friends, but mostly with myself.

So if May is breaking you open, or sucking you under let it inspire you to recognize something needs your attention and it's most likely YOU. Try to take each moment as it comes and pause, find your breath, and connect with whichever version of yourself is about to get into that carpool line or show up to that event. Let yourself show up as yourself.

And if you have no idea who that person is any longer, I’m here to help you! Help you get curious, help you believe your self-inquiry is important and to help you enjoy the cray-MAY-zing ride we call life for all it’s ups and downs, battles and wins and everything in between not only in May, but especially in May.

If you have a graduate, congratulations! If you have a fear of sending a child off to school, or are worried about how to navigate becoming an empty nester, or who you are if you're no longer any of the labels you've placed on yourself or others have placed upon you, or feel they no longer define you, then let's have a chat! Trust me: I've got you!

Email me anytime: Lauri@customdesignedwellness.com

Namaste, and thank you for reading!

Lauri

©Lauri Stern - Custom Designed Wellness

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