Today we’d like to introduce you to Lucia.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I grew up as a first-generation Latina in a predominantly white city — the youngest of five in a household shaped by survival. My father came to this country with nothing and struggled with alcoholism, a cycle passed down from his own father who was also abusive. My mother carried the weight of the home, working tirelessly without emotional or financial support. Though I had two parents under one roof, they were emotionally unavailable. That absence shaped me.
With most of my older siblings out of the house and also in survival — and not having followed the “right path” by my parents’ cultural standards — the pressure to succeed and “be the one who gets it right” fell on me. I became the translator at school conferences, the problem-solver, mom’s emotional support and the one to figure it out — even when I had no road map. My mother tried to instill independence, but neither of us had the language or tools to navigate what that really looked like.
Like many girls in strict homes with not a lot of guidance or goals, I got married young — not out of empowerment, but out of conditioning and hope. I didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like, and no one taught me to spot abuse when it was masked in charisma. School didn’t equip me to understand trauma, self-worth, or boundaries. And when the relationship became emotionally abusive, I didn’t even know what I was experiencing until I was deep in it.
Leaving that marriage was terrifying, but it was just the beginning. When you reject a narcissist, they don’t walk away — they retaliate. I spent years in family court trying to prove what charm could conceal: that this person was dangerous not only to me, but to my daughter’s development and well-being. It was one of the most painful and disorienting chapters of my life — and yet, something I’m forever grateful to have experienced. It taught me courage in its rawest form and gave me the gift of finding my voice.
In moments that feel “scary now,” I let myself feel it all. I ground myself and return to the same courage I used when I stood up to courts, judges, and systems that were more enamored with charm than character. My voice was dismissed for years — until two years ago, when my daughter, then 15, asked me to seek full custody so she could finally begin healing. That moment changed everything.
I used the anger, sadness and grief from years of trauma to become clear, factual, and grounded. I found power in the exact space narcissists try to destabilize you in. Because when you’re calm, clear, and anchored in your truth, you become a mirror — and people who hide behind masks can’t always face their reflection.
Once I realized their purpose was to make me afraid, I stopped handing them that power. But that took work. Real trauma work. It’s not about avoidance — it’s about facing, feeling, and moving through the pain until you can use it to build something. And that’s exactly what I did.
I pivoted from law to psychology, realizing I didn’t just want to fight — I wanted to understand. I went to grad school and became a therapist. I began working in schools so I could be present for my daughter while creating change in the very systems that failed me. In a full-circle moment, I was hired as the first-ever mental health staff member in a space where I was trusted to build a districtwide trauma-informed mental health program — an initiative rooted in prevention, early intervention, and culturally responsive care.
Still, as I built systems of support, I saw how quietly and persistently systemic oppression operates. I learned that true change doesn’t happen in isolation — it takes many people at the top to be just as courageous. That kind of change requires vulnerability, reflection, and a willingness to dig deep — often deeper than some are ready or able to go.
I’ve learned that systems often reward compliance more than courage, especially when that courage comes from women of color who are no longer willing to shrink.
That realization led me to build something of my own. I created two businesses to take back power, use my voice fully, and create space where wellness isn’t performative — it’s real, radical, and rooted in equity:
🖤 Healing Hearts, Empowering Minds — my trauma-informed therapy practice that supports teens, adults, couples, and families in healing from relational, systemic, and generational wounds.
🧠 Brave Hearts, Wise Minds — my consulting and coaching company that helps organizations and leaders develop sustainable wellness programs, while also supporting changemakers in their own emotional growth.
And because systems need cultural disruption as much as clinical expertise, I co-founded The Meesh & Lucy: In Real Life Podcast — Where No B.S. Wellness Meets Real Talk Relationships. With one of my best friends from grad school — also a licensed marriage and family therapist — this podcast is our way of reclaiming space, truth, and humor. Two women supporting each other in a society that often pits us against one another. This isn’t just a show — it’s healing, out loud. Smart, funny, informed, and unfiltered. A place where safety becomes contagious.
Now, I share the framework that saved me with the survivors I serve — especially those who feel powerless. Because there is power within us. It’s called an internal locus of control. Through somatic work, cognitive tools, strength-based strategies, and deep compassion, I help clients reconnect with that power.
This same spirit lives on in my daughter, Emily. After enduring years of emotional and medical trauma, she has turned her pain into purpose. Through California’s Youth & Government program, going into Policy Reform. She’s authored and presented mental health legislation at the State Capitol. She hopes to study law to reform family court. Even with conditions like fibromyalgia and endometriosis, she shows up — for herself and for others who need a voice.
And here’s something else I’ve learned:
Those who operate from ego…
Those who wear masks…
Those who dominate out of fear — they, too, carry trauma.
While that doesn’t excuse harm, it offers clarity. When you humanize just enough to see the wounded child inside, you reclaim your own clarity and boundary-setting power. You get to choose how far is too far. When to speak. When to disengage. That’s self-respect in action.
From invisibility to influence.
From fear to freedom.
From being silenced… to helping others unmute themselves.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Absolutely not — the road has been anything but smooth. It’s been jagged, uphill, and often lonely. But every bump forced me to build muscles I didn’t know I had.
One of the biggest challenges was escaping an emotionally abusive marriage and navigating a family court system that often prioritizes appearances over protection. Fighting for my daughter’s safety while being gaslit by the very institutions meant to protect us was soul-crushing. I had to self-advocate without legal support, build case documentation, and constantly prove that I was not just a mother in distress — but a mother in truth. That emotional labor took a toll, especially while trying to stay present for my daughter and rebuild a life from scratch.
Another challenge has been working within systems that say they want equity but don’t always practice it. I’ve experienced microaggressions, exclusion, and gaslighting — particularly as a Latina woman stepping into leadership roles.
There was also the internal battle — unlearning generational patterns of silence, guilt, and self-sacrifice. As a first-generation daughter of immigrants, the expectation was to survive quietly, not thrive boldly. Breaking those cycles — without a blueprint — meant grieving relationships, confronting my own trauma, and healing publicly and privately all at once.
But those struggles shaped my purpose. They sharpened my empathy, deepened my resolve, and clarified who I am — and what I refuse to shrink for. So while the road hasn’t been smooth, it’s been transformational. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I’m a trauma-informed therapist, consultant, and wellness coach — but more than that, I’m a systems disruptor and space creator. My work lives at the intersection of healing, advocacy, and cultural awareness.
Through my therapy practice, Healing Hearts, Empowering Minds, I support teens, adults, couples, and families navigating trauma, identity struggles, systemic harm, and relationship challenges. My approach blends clinical expertise with lived experience, integrating cognitive behavioral therapy, somatic practices, and strength-based strategies. I’m known for helping clients reconnect with their internal power — especially those who have been silenced or unseen by the systems around them.
In addition to therapy, I specialize in educational mental health, working closely with marginalized students and those with disabilities. I support the development and implementation of Individualized Education Programs (IEPs) and 504 Plans to ensure students receive equitable access to their education alongside their neurotypical or able-bodied peers. This work has expanded into supporting parents in advocating for their children within school systems. By conducting mental health assessments and offering tailored recommendations, I help inform schools, guide families, and develop treatment plans that address emotional needs while honoring the whole child.
In addition to clinical work, I run Brave Hearts, Wise Minds, a consulting and coaching business that helps schools, organizations, and individuals build sustainable wellness programs rooted in equity, emotional intelligence, and relational safety. I also provide leadership coaching and emotional skills training for professionals who want to grow without losing their humanity.
What sets me apart is my ability to blend realness with clinical rigor. I bring lived experience to every room I enter — as a survivor, a mother, and a woman of color — and I use that experience to create culturally responsive and emotionally safe spaces. I’m not here to offer surface-level solutions. I’m here to walk people through the real work — the kind that leads to lasting change.
One of the things I’m most proud of is building these businesses from the ground up while raising my daughter and supporting her through years of medical and emotional trauma. Watching her now — advocating at the Capitol, writing legislation, healing out loud — is a reflection of the generational change I set out to create. I’ve turned my own pain into purpose, and I now get to help others do the same — not just clinically, but through mentorship, education, and storytelling.
And in a world where wellness is often commodified, I stay rooted in authenticity. Whether I’m sitting across from a client, speaking on a panel, or co-hosting my podcast Meesh & Lucy: In Real Life, my mission is always the same: to help people feel seen, safe, and strong enough to reclaim their own story.
Networking and finding a mentor can have such a positive impact on one’s life and career. Any advice?
Many of my mentors have come from different seasons of my life.
When I was younger, it was the strong women in my workplace — leaders who modeled confidence, resilience, and how to take up space with grace. They didn’t just guide me professionally; they expanded my vision of what was possible.
In grad school, I was fortunate to be mentored by several professors at Cal State LA who taught from a place of deep knowledge and led with compassion and purpose. Their belief in me helped strengthen a voice I was still learning to trust.
Some of the most powerful mentors have also been peers — colleagues who carried wisdom, humility, patience, and a deep sense of care for others. They took me under their wing when I was just starting out, offering not just guidance, but emotional safety. These were often the safest people I’ve known — generous collaborators who led with heart and never needed a spotlight to make an impact.
What I’ve learned is that mentorship doesn’t always come with a formal title. Sometimes, it’s simply someone showing up for you, reminding you who you are, and walking beside you as you grow into your power.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://healingheartswmpoweringminds.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/healinghearts_empoweringminds/p/DDb-MTBJYEN/
- Facebook: https://www.braveheartswisemindscc.com/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/lucia-fernandez-a559512b7/
- Other: https://www.meeshandlucyirl.com
