The Soft, Quiet Victories in Life
In December, a dear friend’s mother gifted me a stunning journal. You know the kind—beautifully designed, with blank pages waiting to be filled. So lovely, in fact, that I couldn’t bring myself to write in it for weeks. I felt that something this special needed to be used for the right purpose.
Eventually, I came across a simple but beautiful idea.
What if I used my new journal to track the amazing things that happen in my life each week? Eighteen weeks in, I can honestly say I didn’t expect what’s unfolded.
At first, I thought it would be a place to record the big moments, the kind that take your breath away. Like learning that my dad’s suspected cancer diagnosis was NOT cancer after all. Or watching my 88-year-old father-in-law walk 15 kilometers a day alongside his sons on the Camino de Santiago. And yes, those stories certainly did make it in there.
But most of the pages tell quieter stories. Those of subtle shifts. What I’ve come to call the soft victories.
Soft victories are those small but mighty steps I see not only in my own life, but in the lives of the incredible parents I work with every day. The moments that can often go unnoticed, but still carry so much meaning. They tell the story of real change, of inner strength, of cycles being quietly broken, and love being bravely redefined.
The thing is, it’s easy to miss the quiet evidence of soft victories. So many parents I work with overlook their growth because it doesn’t always look dramatic or obvious. I know I didn’t—until I started writing them down. And once I did, I began to see just how much was changing.
So let me share with you some examples of what soft victories can look and feel like:
That single breath before reacting. The tiny pause before yelling, fixing, or shutting down. It might only last a second, but it’s a revolution. It’s choosing awareness over autopilot.
That quiet, heartfelt “I’m sorry”. You lost your cool, but you returned to repair. That’s not failure, it’s strength. It’s a reminder that love isn’t conditional, and neither is connection.
Shifting your thoughts from “I messed up again” to “This time, I paused”. That’s progress. That’s power.
Holding space when every part of you wants to shut down. Staying present while your child feels something big. That is not small. That is generational healing.
Honoring your boundaries with love. Saying “No” without yelling or over-explaining. Teaching your child that limits and love can coexist. That’s a gift they’ll carry forever.
Thanking your biggest triggers. Because they are invitations to growth. Yes, painful ones, but they can lead us back to ourselves.
Giving yourself permission to walk away from toxic behavior. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
Understanding that truth can be heavy, and not everyone is ready to carry it. Releasing the pressure or expectations on others’ abilities to hold the heavy stuff.
Choosing to carry compassion instead of resentment. Tending to your own heart with care, and gently releasing what was never yours to hold.
Loving yourself so you can love others more fully. This is foundational. This is sacred.
Releasing the illusion that you're responsible for how others feel or react. Returning your energy to what’s truly yours—your own clarity, your own peace—That freedom is both humbling and liberating.
Realizing that validation from others is fleeting. Rooting your worth in your own inner knowing.
These are the soft victories. The quiet triumphs that don’t make headlines but reshape us from the inside out. And they’re absolutely worth celebrating.
Conscious parenting and conscious living are not about having it all figured out. It’s not about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about rewriting the story, moment by moment, breath by breath, in small, intentional ways. Soft victory by soft victory. And that’s powerful.
So, if you've a beautiful journal you’ve been saving for something special, perhaps this is your sign. Begin with the soft victories. The amazing things that perhaps no one else sees, sometimes not even you. But you can feel them in your bones. In the quiet spaces, you can feel them shaping who you’re becoming.
And when you start noticing them, you’ll realize. They’re not small at all. They’re the ones that matter most.
