Finding Healing in the Kitchen: Baking, Family, and Mental Health

September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month, a time to pause, reflect, and remind ourselves that every life matters — including our own. As a nurse, I have walked beside patients and families through some of their darkest days. But beyond my career, my own life has held struggles that tested me to my core.

I lost my dad when I was just 19, and years later, I lost my sister at 34. At the time, I was already a mother to two small children of my own. When my sister passed, my role suddenly expanded — I was not only grieving the loss of my sister, but I was also stepping into the role of raising her children alongside my own. The grief, responsibility, and anxiety were overwhelming at times, and there were days when the weight of it all felt impossible to carry.

But through it all, there has been one steady source of light and grounding: baking.

For me, the kitchen has become my sanctuary — my place of quiet, creativity, and healing. While caring for others as an RN is deeply fulfilling, baking provides something different: freedom. The freedom to explore. The freedom to geek out on food science and fermentation. The freedom to use all five senses to transform simple ingredients into something beautiful and life-giving.

And the greatest joy of all is that I don’t do it alone. Every morning (or let’s be honest… late morning, because getting Kenna out of bed can be like raising the dead), my daughter joins me in the kitchen. This is our own version of “wake and bake” — excuse the pun, but I couldn’t resist.

We’ve developed a rhythm, almost a dance. While I’m shaping perfectly proofed bagels, McKenna is pulling trays of her dangerously addictive chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. Flour dusts the counters, timers ding in the background, and laughter fills the air. In those moments, baking isn’t just about the bread or the cookies. It’s about connection. It’s about carrying on family traditions. It’s about creating joy for others, one loaf or one cookie at a time.

Mental health isn’t a straight road — it’s a winding path with its ups and downs. But I’ve learned that healing often comes in small, everyday rituals. For me, baking is one of those rituals. It centers me, nourishes my soul, and gives me a way to pour love into the lives of others.

If you’re walking through grief, trauma, or anxiety, I want you to know you’re not alone. Find your own version of the kitchen — that place where you can breathe, create, and feel whole again. And if you ever feel like the weight is too heavy, please reach out. Your story isn’t finished, and the world needs the light only you can bring.

This month, I bake with gratitude. For the memories of my dad and sister, for the children I have been blessed to raise, and for the daughter who shares my love for flour and fermentation. Most of all, I bake for the joy of life — and the reminder that even in struggle, sweetness endures.

If you or someone you love is struggling, dial 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Help is available 24/7.