3 things I focus on when it all feels impossible
Feb 10, 2026
I received a message recently that made me think about all the times when I was still in the Police and I felt like protecting kids was an impossible task and being a Police Officer didn't help anyone.
I had many days where I I felt that what I was doing didn't matter. If I'm honest, I still have days like that, but experience has also taught me that even when it feels impossible, it really isn't.
The message said:
“I don’t know how you keep doing this day in and day out. I’m struggling with what’s being released. I don’t know how to process it or keep going.”
That reaction makes sense.
There is a moment - sometimes quiet, sometimes overwhelming - where the world cracks open and you realise it isn’t as safe, kind, or just as you once believed. When that happens, it often brings feelings of grief, anger and helplessness. A deep sadness for the world we wish we lived in.
If you’re feeling that right now, there is nothing wrong with you and that is the exact response we should be feeling, especially with what we now know. You’re responding to something that is genuinely hard to hold, hard to comprehend and hard to stomach and what you feel is normal. What's happening in the world and what is being shared is the abnormality and we have a right to be angry.
When everything feels too heavy and too big, these are the three things I return to, to help me re-centre and keep going.
1. You cannot help anyone if you don’t tend to yourself first
There is a grief that comes with losing innocence - not just childhood innocence, but the innocence of believing the world is mostly safe.
Sometimes the most important thing we can do is get quiet and let ourselves feel that loss.
That might mean stepping back from the news or social media.
It might mean talking to a mental health professional.
It might mean taking space from people who minimise, dismiss, or drain you.
Caring deeply without rest can become consuming. And when that happens, it doesn’t help anyone - least of all you.
This work, this caring, this awareness… it’s not a sprint. It requires steadiness.
It often feels darkest just before we find our footing again. Giving yourself permission to pause, grieve, and recharge isn’t weakness - it’s what allows you to keep going without losing yourself.
2. I bring my focus back to what I can actually change
No one person can protect every child. No one.
Trying to hold the entire world’s pain leads to paralysis, not change. So I shrink my focus back to what is within reach.
My own child.
My immediate family.
My closest friends.
The children and families I come into contact with in real life on a daily basis.
I remind myself that I can educate, model, and talk openly about body safety. I can have age-appropriate conversations with the kids and people in my life. I can be a safe adult for every child I come into contact with. I can speak up when something doesn’t sit right - even when it feels like I am overstepping.
Change doesn’t start with fixing everything.
It starts with conversations and with awareness. It starts with small, consistent actions inside our own circles and families and by protecting our kids first.
Know that those ripples travel further than we’ll ever see.
3. I make intentional choices about where I place my money
Money carries influence, whether we acknowledge it or not.
When I become aware that an industry, organisation, or company is harming children or failing to safeguard them, I disengage where I can. I stop supporting that ecosystem.
Sometimes the choices feel small and sometimes they feel inconvenient, but they matter to me and it's one way I can make a difference.
Being intentional about where and how we spend our money is one way of aligning our values with our actions - even when the world feels out of control.
When everything feels impossible, I come back to this:
I don’t need to do everything - I physically can't anyway.
I don’t need to carry it all even when I feel like I want to.
I don’t need to fix the whole world because again that's not possible nor doable.
What I can do is:
Care for myself - because it's literally necessary if we want to keep our kids and families safe.
Protect what’s within reach - in my family, community and social circles.
I can make thoughtful choices and spend my money intentionally.
That is how people keep going.
That is how change quietly takes root.
That is how we change the world, one child, one family, one community at a time!
Kristi x
P.S.
This isn’t the full picture - it’s the starting point.
When things feel overwhelming, this is where I begin. And when capacity returns, my circle of action grows with it.