Episode 167: Permission to Be Fully Alive! with Teresa Ford

Hey, everybody, welcome to the podcast. I have Teresa Ford with me as part of this month-long series, spotlighting some of the amazing heart-centered authors through Joa, Publishing—Joan of Arc Publishing. So welcome, Teresa.

Thank you. I’m so glad to be here.

I am so glad you’re here. You were such a bright light. You really stood out to me in our recent event interactions, and I’m just really grateful to be here.

Thank you. Same right back at ya.

So I’m super excited to get to know you a little bit more. So let’s just jump right in. Will you share about yourself with our listeners—your background, your family, your faith of origin, and your area of work?

Starting from the very beginning, I was raised by emotionally immature parents. They were ill-equipped to raise children, and in their minds, the purpose of children was to help them feel better about themselves. That was a struggle, but I wasn’t introduced to religion until I was nine. We were all very isolated—like I didn’t even know my parents knew anybody outside of our family nucleus.

We went to church. My mom took us, and I thought it was going to be like the cathedral with stained glass windows. And it was of the LDS faith. When we walked in, everyone was like, “Oh, it’s so good to see you. You’ve come back to church.” I was nine, and it was anything but stained glass windows—just very plain, pictures of Christ, but plain.

I felt late to the game, but that’s sort of been my whole life. When you’re raised by emotionally immature parents, you feel about twenty years behind everyone else. I was just learning how to live outside of survival. I had no skill set when I left the house.

My experience in the church was interesting. I could see the differences—my mom would show up and act like, “We’re the happy family,” but behind closed doors she would grit her teeth and lock us in our rooms. There were a lot of polar opposites. My dad gave us a Porsche to drive to school so he would look good, and my mom barely gave us a sniff of tuna in case there wasn’t enough for the next day’s sandwiches.

That was confusing. I spent a lot of time at my friends’ homes, which probably saved me because they were very normal, and they were a godsend.

Fast forward—all I ever wanted to be was a mom. I had five children. I learned about codependency in my marriage. I wondered, “Why is there no connection here?” I didn’t have words for it until five years ago, ten years after our divorce. We were married for 26 years, but it wasn’t working because of attachment style issues—I had anxious attachment, he had avoidant, so there was never a secure connection.

My whole life has been the type of coaching I do now. Going through a divorce in a religion that teaches families are forever was hard. I’d taught my kids that, so asking for a divorce made me feel like everything became a lie.

My mom passed away in 2010, and I didn’t realize I was grieving the mother I never had. She often said no one loved her and she was all alone. She spent 20 years watching Jeopardy, praying it would be the day she’d die.

When she decided to stop eating to end her life, I helped her during the last three days. She didn’t like to be touched, but I climbed into bed with her anyway. She was in a coma, and I talked to her, shared secrets with my brother, and I’m sure she could hear us.

When she passed, I didn’t realize I’d grieve the mother I never had. Within two months, I lost my health. I couldn’t process food, had two hours of energy a day, went into full-blown adrenal fatigue, and lost my clients as a personal trainer. I lost my business, my marriage, and my faith—not my belief in God, but my sense of belonging in the religion.

After serving with women for eight years, not one reached out when I was struggling. Instead, rumors flew. The religion had given me structure, which I’d lacked growing up, so losing that was devastating.

I realized I needed to know who I was to God without the titles of wife, mother, or religious person. I spent three months on a walk with Christ, trying to feel close to Him.

I’d hit rock bottom—living in a basement apartment, without my family or religion, feeling like I belonged nowhere. On January 1, 2011, I felt like I was going to die. I couldn’t see my life moving forward.

I became an accidental entrepreneur—forced to get a job after 15 years because we were about to be homeless and my husband wouldn’t face it. Six months before, I’d lost eight dress sizes without realizing it was preparing me for the financial transition to being the primary earner.

After two years of exhausting work, I burned out. My nervous system believed I was unsupported and had to do everything myself. My husband, with his own wounds, couldn’t build a relationship with me.

I had “mother dysmorphia”—I loved my kids but couldn’t feel their love for me because of my conditioning. Eventually, I had to find out if God still valued me. That led to a 10-year spiritual path and the realization that I could still belong to a religion while ignoring cultural baggage. That reawakened me—I could dream again.

It’s common for women to feel backed into a corner before they take steps toward thriving. I started seeking mentors who got their guidance from God, not outside noise. I learned it was okay to start over, even four kids in, to figure out how to organize a family.

If I thought starting over was wrong, it was awful. If I thought it was right, it was perfect timing. Giving ourselves permission changes our nervous system response. I learned I had needs—needs to transform, transcend, and expand. When I accepted God’s bigger plan, it became a good thing.

This is part of the message of my Joa book—personal empowerment and rebuilding confidence by listening to your intuition. My idea is a book called Love Forward. Everything in the past happened perfectly to prepare me for self-love, even in struggle. Loving forward means loving all that has yet to be without fear of right or wrong.

Living beyond the shadow of doubt means trusting and taking steps in the dark, knowing the light will come on.

Quick answers:

• Favorite book: Daring to Be Yourself by Alexandra Stoddard.

• Introvert or extrovert: Both—I need recharge time but have developed extrovert skills.

• Favorite artist: Carrie Jean Goldsmith, an abstract artist.

• Morning lark or night owl: Morning lark.

• Celebrity crush: Steve Jobs—turtlenecks and jeans, plus visionary leadership.

• Drink: Warm or hot water.

• Furthest travel: Hawaii—I’m a homebody.

We’ll include all the ways to connect with Teresa in the show notes. Thank you for joining me today—it’s been a pleasure.

Thank you, it’s been so fun to sit here with you.