Simona Rinfreschi

Simona Rinfreschi is an author, speaker, and the founder of Presence Parenting.

She writes for children and the adults raising them because she believes the way we understand behaviour can change the course of a child’s life. When adults become curious about what may be causing a behaviour, rather than deciding that a child is good, bad, difficult, or deliberately defiant, they make room for clear limits without punishment, understanding without permissiveness, and love that doesn’t disappear when things go wrong.

This belief grew from Simona’s childhood, her work in Early Childhood Education, and her own experience of motherhood. Born in Italy and raised in Cape Town, she took on far more responsibility for others than a child should have to carry. At twelve, she promised herself that she would raise her own children differently.

Although she studied child development and psychology and trained in Early Childhood Education, motherhood tested her in ways her professional knowledge hadn’t prepared her for. Her son was born by emergency caesarean section and experienced health problems and long periods of crying while Simona struggled with postnatal depression.

One night, when she was crying alongside her baby, her grandmother encouraged her husband to take her for a walk. Their son fell asleep almost as soon as they left. Simona initially saw this as proof that she wasn’t good enough, but later understood that he had settled because he was finally in the arms of a calm adult. His distress had been upsetting her so deeply that they had become caught in a negative spiral.

That realisation changed the way she understood her responsibility as a parent. Her role wasn’t to prevent every difficult feeling or control her children’s behaviour. It was to remain emotionally available, decide which limits mattered, and hold them without frightening, shaming, or withdrawing love. When she got it wrong, she could acknowledge it, repair the relationship, and try again.

Today, Simona’s son and daughter are successful adults in their early thirties, and she is profoundly grateful for the close, loving relationships they share. Becoming a grandmother has made her work feel even more urgent.

In 2025, she fulfilled a childhood dream by publishing her first picture book, Good Pixie Bad Pixie. Through magic, the story explores the feelings behind behaviour and the harm caused by calling children “good” or “bad.” It also asks adults to stop judging behaviour long enough to wonder what a child may be trying to communicate.

That same question lies at the heart of Presence Parenting, the secular, evidence-informed approach Simona created to help parents understand what may be driving difficult behaviour and hold firm limits without punishment or permissiveness. Her current focus is supporting mothers of toddlers to prepare for recurring situations, know what to do during a tantrum, and reconnect afterwards so one painful interaction doesn’t unravel the rest of the day.

Alongside her parenting work, Simona continues to write children’s books and is working on a modern gothic fantasy trilogy. Whether she is writing stories, speaking, or mentoring parents, the questions beneath her work remain closely connected: What shapes the way we see ourselves? What happens when other people’s labels become part of our identity? And what becomes possible when we are finally met with understanding?

Simona now lives on the Costa Blanca in Spain, where she began again in her fifties and created a new direction for work that had, in many ways, been taking shape throughout her life.

I’m Simona Rinfreschi, an author, speaker, and the founder of Presence Parenting.

I write for children and for the adults raising them because I believe the way we understand behaviour can change the course of a child’s life. When we become curious about what causes a particular behaviour, rather than deciding that a child is good, bad, difficult, or deliberately defiant, we create space for something different: clear limits without punishment, understanding without permissiveness, and a relationship in which love doesn’t disappear when things go wrong.

That belief grew from my childhood, my time working in Early Childhood Education, and my experience of becoming a mother.

I was born in Italy and raised in Cape Town, South Africa. By the age of eight, I had already taken on far more responsibility for other people than a child should have to carry. At twelve, I made myself a promise that when I had children of my own, I would raise them differently.

I studied child development and psychology, trained in Early Childhood Education, and went on to work with children in several roles, including as a home daycare provider and primary school librarian. I thought all that knowledge would prepare me for motherhood.

It didn’t.

My son was born by emergency caesarean section. He experienced health problems and long periods of crying, while I struggled with postnatal depression and the growing conviction that I was failing him. I loved him fiercely, but there were times when we were both completely overwhelmed.

One night, when I ended up crying along with my baby, my grandmother told my husband to take me for a walk and she’d look after our son. When we got back home, she told us he’d fallen asleep almost as soon as we left the house.

At first, I took that as proof that I wasn’t good enough as a mom, but then I realised that the reason he’d settled was that he was finally in the arms of a calm adult. Instead, I was allowing his distress to upset me so much that we were caught in a negative spiral.

That understanding changed the way I saw my responsibility as a parent. It wasn’t my job to prevent every difficult feeling, make my children happy at all times, or control their behaviour. It was my responsibility to remain emotionally available, decide which limits mattered, and do my best to hold those limits without frightening, shaming, or withdrawing from them. When I got it wrong, as every parent sometimes does, I could acknowledge it, repair the relationship, and try again.

Today, my son and daughter are successful adults in their early thirties, and I’m profoundly grateful for the close, loving relationships we share. Becoming a grandmother has made this work feel even more urgent. I want my grandson’s generation to grow up knowing that they are loved, and worthy of respect, even when they are upset, struggling, or behaving in ways the adults around them find difficult.

From stories to Presence Parenting

In September 2025, I fulfilled a childhood dream by publishing my first picture book, Good Pixie Bad Pixie.

The story uses magic to explore the feelings behind behaviour and the harm caused by calling children “good” or “bad.” Although it was written for children, it also asks something important of the adults reading it: What might we notice if we stopped judging the behaviour long enough to wonder what the child was trying to communicate?

That same question sits at the heart of Presence Parenting.

Presence Parenting is the secular, evidence-informed approach I created to empower parents to understand what may be driving difficult behaviour, and hold firm limits without punishment or permissiveness. It centres the adult’s responsibility for the tone and safety of the relationship, while recognising that parents need practical support rather than more reasons to feel guilty.

My current focus is supporting mothers of toddlers, particularly those whose work and family responsibilities leave little room to recover after a difficult interaction. I help them prepare for recurring situations, know what to do during a tantrum, and reconnect afterwards so one painful interaction doesn’t unravel the rest of the day.

Alongside this work, I continue to write stories. I’m working on further children’s books and a modern gothic fantasy trilogy. The audiences and settings may be different, but the questions beneath them are closely connected: What shapes the way we see ourselves? What happens when other people’s labels become part of our identity? And what becomes possible when we are finally met with understanding?

Through my books, talks, and parent mentoring, I’m working towards a world in which unconditional love, understanding, and mutual respect are not rare ideals, but the norm in our homes and communities.

I now live on the Costa Blanca in Spain, where I began again in my fifties and created a new direction for work that has, in many ways, been taking shape throughout my life.

My guiding words remain:

Be gentle with yourself and generous with your magic.

Simona’s Story

When I was a child, I kept an imaginary black notebook in my head.

Whenever I was punished, misunderstood, or treated in a way that felt unfair, I would mentally write it down. I was determined to remember what it felt like because, when I had children of my own, I was going to do things differently.

By the time my much younger brother was born, I was twelve and had already begun preparing myself for motherhood. I read every parenting book and magazine I could find, babysat other people’s children, studied child development and psychology, and worked in Early Childhood Education.

Children behaved beautifully for me, so I reached the only reasonable conclusion: I was going to be an excellent mother.

Then my son was born.

His birth ended in an emergency caesarean section. He had health problems, cried for long periods, and rarely slept for very long. I was also experiencing postnatal depression, although I didn’t know it at first. All I knew was that I loved this baby more than I had ever loved anyone or anything in the world, and I seemed completely unable to soothe him.

One night, I ended up crying as hard as he was. My grandmother told my husband to take me out for a walk while she stayed with our son. When we returned, she told us that he had fallen asleep soon after we had left.

I wish I could say that I immediately understood why. I didn’t. I took it as proof that my baby was better off with someone else.

It took time for me to see that he hadn’t needed a different mother. He had needed the mom he already had to receive some help. His distress had become so frightening to me that I couldn’t separate what was happening to him from what it seemed to say about me.

I didn’t always handle things as calmly as I wish I had. I made mistakes, lost my patience, worried that I was too strict, and then worried that I wasn’t strict enough. There were also times when depression and chronic illness meant I couldn’t be the mother I thought my children deserved.

For years, I was afraid that my struggles had harmed them. What I understand now is that children don’t need parents who never become overwhelmed or get anything wrong. They need to know that the relationship can survive challenging feelings and imperfect responses. They need adults who will take responsibility, apologise, reconnect, and keep learning.

My son and daughter are now in their early thirties. We don’t have close, loving, mutually supportive, and respectful relationships because I was the “perfect” mother I once imagined I would be. We have them because they grew up knowing that their dad and I loved them unconditionally, we always had their backs, and they could talk to us about everything.

That’s the truth behind Presence Parenting and Good Pixie Bad Pixie. Both came from the child who longed to be understood, the mom who was terrified of getting it wrong, and the woman who eventually learnt to understand behaviour as communication.

I can’t promise any parent that they will always stay calm or know exactly what to do. I can help them understand what could be causing their toddler’s behaviour, recognise what’s happening inside themselves, and decide how they want to respond. I can help them hold limits without making their child’s distress mean that the limits are wrong, or that they’re failing.

Most of all, I want them to know that difficult interactions don’t define them as parents, and they don’t have to define the relationship they’re building with their child.