As a mother of a special child, I’ve known the mix of love, exhaustion, and quiet courage that caregiving brings. There were days I didn’t need advice or answers, only a space to breathe, to speak freely, and to feel seen. I longed for someone to sit beside me and say, “It’s okay. You’re doing fine.”

That simple need became the heart of Hestia.

The name comes from the Greek goddess of the hearth, a symbol of warmth, home, and belonging. To me, that’s what true listening feels like: a gentle fire that reminds you you’re safe and understood.

Being a mother to child itself is a journey and being a mother for special child is completely different ball game when life did not prepare me for. When my journey as a mother began, I never imagined how different it would be. Raising a special child has been a lesson in slowing down and celebrating small victories a smile, a new word, a quiet moment of connection. It’s filled with love and learning, but also moments of loneliness.

Over time, I realized there were many places for therapy, advice, and information, but very few spaces for feeling. Spaces where you could just be tired, hopeful, uncertain and still be accepted.

That’s how Hestia was born. Not as a project or plan, but as a response to a deep human need: the need to be heard without judgment.

At Hestia, you’ll find a listening space, a gentle pause in the rush of life. A space where your story is met with understanding, not correction. There’s no pressure to be strong or to fix everything. You can simply show up as you are.

Over the years, I’ve learned that caregiving isn’t about perfection, it’s about presence. It’s showing up even when you feel unsure. It’s forgiving yourself for the hard days. It’s realizing that your love, even when imperfect, is still enough.

Listening, I’ve discovered, is deeply healing. When someone truly listens, they’re not just hearing your words, they’re holding space for your emotions and reminding you that you’re not alone. That simple act can lighten burdens and help healing begin.

Because healing doesn’t always begin with doing more sometimes, it begins with stopping, breathing, and being seen.

If you’ve found your way here, welcome. Come as you are with your hopes, doubts, and stories. This is your space to rest, reflect, and reconnect with yourself.

And if no one has told you today – it’s okay. You’re doing fine.