Following the nudge: A mother, a son, a season of growth & Italy
- 2 days ago
- 10 min read
Paying attention to nudges
The purpose of this post is about sharing how some internal nudges since being a parent, followed by deliberate intention, have led my son and I into a period of significant change and growth.
I’m currently on the first “delicious, do what I want” (provided I stay nearby) holiday I’ve had in 11 years since becoming a mostly single parent… while my son is attending a week-long Change Your Life Kindle Italy program in Varzi, Italy, alongside around 40 other students from across Italy and the UK.
Even writing that feels surreal.
I’ve always had a soft spot for children and their internal worlds. Infact, it’s through my own lived experience as a parent that my SHINE program was born. And it feels important to share a little of the story behind how we got here (to this life changing time in Varzi, Italy).
Since training in trauma-informed practice, the principle of safety has become my anchor.
It’s given me language for what I need, what I offer, and what I will no longer tolerate.
Safety shapes: How I parent. How I work. How I choose where my time and energy go.
And it’s something I speak openly about with my son too. That safety isn’t a luxury. It’s a standard. You'll know without a shadow of a doubt when you've found it and that it’s worth holding out for.
That he deserves to feel it in his relationships, his environments, his day-to-day life.
And most importantly—how to recognise it.
Kite High — Day 1
There’s so much I want to say. The three coffees I’ve had today (cappuccino, ristretto, affogato…) might be contributing to what I can only describe as a slightly kite high state. Five full days to myself. The passion of Italy. The sights, the sounds of passionate conversations as I pass by a house, the food, the rhythm of life.
And the s p a c e. So much s p a c e.
I spent five hours walking in 24-degree heat today, torn between everything and nothing all at once:
Do I sit in the sun? Nap? Read Breath by James Nestor? Write? Eat? Explore? Share this moment with someone who seems equally excited?
The truth is… when I’m given time and space, it can feel overwhelming. This beautiful brain of mine wants to taste everything at once. And what I’m learning—again—is this:
I only need to choose one thing. Just one.
A church bell rings in the distance. Birds are singing. Sunlight spills across the edge of the desk.
And in this moment—this is enough.
I’m writing this from a train bound for Milan
There are two days left of his program, and something in me whispered: go explore.
Son's settled - safe - growing.
This trip is an opportunity for me to expand too. This trip is a welcomed and deliberate pause. A space to write my blog and book, to think, to breathe… and today, to write from a moving train through Italy. I love that more than I can explain.
Matters more than he’ll ever know
When it comes to my son—his happiness, his potential, his future, preparing him for the world — I am all in (and of course, aren't we all!).
In the past few months alone, I’ve poured a serious amount of energy (and yes, money) into
experiences that will spark his intrinsic motivation.
A basketball court in our garden.
Driven him to basketball sessions 5x each week for months.
Fundraising through making soaps, journals, bags and running two mini-makers markets.
Pouring energy into the 'behind-the-scenes' of supporting my son with the adventure ahead - on an adventure where everyone will be a stranger and he has little idea what he's getting into.
A life-changing experience here in Italy.
Daily “mum wisdom” (whether he wants it or not 😉).
AND
I don’t pretend to have it all figured out. I’ve lost my shit more times than I’m proud of. Parenting can feel relentless. Heavy. Messy.
AND
More often than not, I do my best to give from a place rooted in the belief that children are extraordinary—and that my role is to offer something small yet meaningful in support of their potential.
AND
Sometimes those quiet nudges? They aren’t optional. They’re invitations.
Knowing something needed to shift
After a trip to Spain last year, I knew something needed to shift. I didn’t want to rely solely on school—or myself—to provide everything my son needed to thrive. And then, as if by magic, on my return to social media after a year off it, this program (Change your Life Kindle, Italy) appeared.
Within a week, I was speaking to the organisers. Days later— my son was signed up.
There’s always been a fire in me. A refusal to live life purely by “the norm.” And I see that same tension in him (although he probably wouldn't admit it). He often asks, “Why can’t you just be normal?” We've discussed what being normal for me would be like, and honestly, according to his definition of the word - we both know that’s never happening, and if it did - I wouldn't be me.
And while that can feel exhausting at times… I know fine well it’s also totally where the magic lives.
Becoming part of a system (and the tricky transitions)
I had a vision when he was younger. A sweet seaside life. Everything within walking distance. Simple. Idyllic.
But life didn’t follow that script.
Playgroups that didn’t quite fit. Three different nurseries. A mix of approaches—feeling our way through.
Then school.
A busy environment that didn’t meet him where he was.
Eventually, we discovered he had a retained ATNR reflex—something that deeply impacted how he experienced his body and social world. Suddenly, so much made sense.
What followed wasn’t linear.
A year out of school. Support from a tutor who became a key part of our lives. Bodywork. Patience. Fine tuning. Adjusting.
And then—finding a small rural school that changed everything. A gentle, safe transition. A teacher who stayed consistent for 4 years. An environment where he could land.
He’s now approaching the end of primary school.
Next stop: a high school of 1600 students. And here’s the magic— He’s ready. More than ready. He’s excited.
Following the nudge
The purpose of this post is simple:
Pay attention to the nudges.
The ones that niggle. The ones that don’t go away. The ones that feel inconvenient, expensive, or slightly mad. And trust that when you follow them—something extraordinary can unfold. For us, one of those nudges was sport. I knew he needed an outlet. A way to move, connect, regulate - and increase his world from the mere 24 students he attends primary school with.
I suggested table tennis. He chose basketball.
And now? He’s hooked. Four sessions a week. 6.5 hours. A second team. A garden transformed into a basketball court. And a growing circle of mentors, role models, and teammates. Following a single nudge can change so much.
On dropping my son off at the program I got to hear some of the values being shared. Those words were felt in my whole body:
These spaces matter.
Spaces where children are seen. Challenged. Supported. Inspired.
Where they’re told:
“We’re not interested in your past. We’re interested in who you’ll become.”
“If you don’t give up on you, we won’t give up on you.”
That kind of environment? It’s powerful.
And here I am on my own little Italian retreat. Writing. Reflecting. Breathing. Lushing over this wonderful life.
While he expands his world just a few miles away.
My heart is full.
Why this matters so much (for you too)
If you’re a parent reading this.
This is your reminder:
You don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t have to follow the expected path. And you don’t have to ignore the quiet voice inside you. Your child doesn’t need perfect, and they certainly don't need you to be normal (even when they're begging for it ;)
They need presence. Safety. And someone willing to pay attention to what’s really needed when they may be having difficulty knowing that themselves.
I'm confident my son wouldn't have started Basketball had I not nudged him to attend 3 sessions before deciding, and he certainly wouldn't have joined this program without my role in it.
But what's beautiful is he found a way to make them 'his' and the flow between what he gives and what he gets is all his own. My role, (like many other parents of youngins from the outside) is getting him to where he needs to be and giving his wings a little polish to fly as and when required.
Sometimes our kids scream no when really what they're saying is 'please show me safely how'.
The work I do (and why)
Everything I’ve lived, learned, and navigated feeds directly into my work. Through SHINE. Through 1:1 Trauma Informed coaching. Through the spaces I create. Because at the core of it all is this:
People thrive when they feel safe and that they matter.
Safe enough to explore. Safe enough to feel. Safe enough to become who they truly are.
And when we give children that? We change everything.
Some summarised (& not so summarised) shares of real-life scenarios from our world.
A short reflection on what “safety feels like” in real life (for me and my son)
A small fist bump in the car on the drive to school in the morning or another point in the day/week. No words. It says 'you all good, I see you, I got you' (we've never had the conversation but when you know you know).
It's been a big day for my son, it's about to get bigger. I urge my son to go and have a rest to increase his reservoir of capacity for what's ahead. And I'll do the same if necessary. We familiar enough with this practice to know that even if we don't feel like it we ALWAYS feel better for it.
A moment where I almost didn’t follow a nudge—and what that taught me
When I kept my son in the big school that wasn't working, almost forcing him to push through. I learned that trusting that nudge in the moment it happened and not questioning the decision to withdraw him from that school really mattered. The journey ahead was different and came with new challenges. I always knew it was the right decision. I never had to wonder 'what if' I'd just taken him out and I committed fully to facing whatever the 'new path' had in store for us.
To stand back in a situation and let it unfold without adding what I feel is needed. Trusting that the situation will unfold just right if I just allow it. This one takes work AND is becoming easier.
More about my internal battle as a parent (logic vs intuition)
The instinct to want to overexplain to my son vs intuitively knowing that less is more. Finding a way to create a 'capped 5min' sacred time and space in the week. Where we each get to say what needs to be said. The same day and time each week if possible, it's sacred, its safe and the space is there for the taking. As the week unfolds I'm comforted knowing that that space is there to bring any matters than need attention (matters than can wait, where the message is more powerful because of the pause).
Tied to the previous point, but this is a biggie for me. When I'm feeling triggered - to have the faith and courage to step away. I so badly want to explain, express and emote. Stepping away says 'I need space from this - I'm here - I'll come back but I need space'. Like putting my oxygen mask on first. Safety has developed so much over time that applying the 'space approach' creates greater efficacy.
Screentime! This is often tied to the first two points above. Balancing what I know from books/research and experts about the impact of screens and the things kids/my kid watch/es these days drives me ding bats. A lot of energy goes into getting the mix just right and trusting on an intuitive level that he needs to do what he needs to do, that this is my son's life and I'm simply here to guide him during this part. Being clear with boundaries, sharing enough of my concerns AND allowing him space to be who he needs to be as well. It's a constant balancing act.
A scene from dropping him off (sensory detail = powerful storytelling)
A moment I’ll never forget. Transitions have always been big for my boy. So arriving in a new country, at night, surrounded by strangers he’d be spending a whole week with—without me—was next level. We pulled up to the Change Your Life Centre in Varzi around 9pm. Everyone was tired and hungry. The bus was full of teenagers he didn’t know. And waiting outside were 30+ energetic staff ready to welcome us. On the surface, it was warm and full of life. But underneath, I could feel it—this was a lot - the overwhelm was immense. For a while, it was intense. So intense that I genuinely wasn’t sure how I was going to leave without him.
Then something shifted.
As we got off the bus and found our way through the crowd, an 11-year-old Italian boy—an ex-student now helping on the program—gravitated straight towards him. He took him under his wing instantly.
The energy changed just like that.
As it turned out, they were sharing a room. And when we got to their dorm, we were met by the kindest group of boys and staff who completely put us at ease. The space felt safe, calm, and genuinely caring. It was everything I could have hoped for—and more. We headed to dinner and were served a beautiful home-cooked meal. By this point, my son was sitting with his new friend, already settling in. Then he came over to me and said:
“Mum, I like it here… I think I’ll leave later in the week.”
I could have cried.
After years of challenging transitions, that one moment made everything worthwhile.
The feeling in my body as I realised—he was okay—is hard to put into words. It was relief, pride, gratitude… all at once. To walk away from that place, knowing he felt safe, connected, that he belonged, he mattered and he was ready—it meant everything. I’ve never been more proud of him. And if I’m honest….of myself too! This was a definite nod to the nudge that I'd followed to get us here.
What I hope he feels, not just what he learns, from this experience
More than anything, I hope he leaves with a deep sense that he matters.
That he can do big things—even the ones that once felt impossible.
That it’s okay to feel strong emotions and still be okay.
I hope he knows what it feels like to be in safe, supportive company—and that he doesn’t have to settle for anything less or change who he is to fit in, even when that feels really really hard.
That he learns to develop a deeper trust of himself.
That he discovers there are incredible, inspiring people in the world… and that they’re worth finding.
And I'd be lying if I didn't add 'I hope he opens to how much richness there is to be experienced outside of a screen'.
A gentle invitation for you, the reader
“What’s one nudge you’ve been ignoring?”
With love and thank you for your time and attention,
Bron x
To stay in touch in a space where everyone is welcome, sign up to my newsletter at www.bronwyntutty.com, I share an occasional newsletter, 'Tutty's Top 3 Takeaways', irregular blog posts and exciting news about programs and events.
If it’s something in-person that you're after, I am a Trauma Informed Transformational Coach and I'm hooked on coaching! If this interests you, why not book in for a free online 45 minute 1-2-1 discovery call.
Comments