Jacintha Field didn’t set out to become a tech founder—but when her son struggled with emotional overwhelm during the pandemic, she saw the urgent need for something better. Drawing on her training in counselling, art therapy, and breathwork, she launched Happy Souls Kids to support children’s mental health through play, mindfulness, and storytelling.
Now, she’s building a gamified app that speaks to kids in their own language—featuring emotional tools from the role models they look up to most. In this conversation, Jacintha shares how she leads with softness, why regulation starts at home, and the daily rituals that keep her grounded as a founder and mum.
How do your mornings usually begin? Are there any rituals or small moments that help you start the day with intention—especially as both a founder and a parent?
I’m usually up around 4 or 5am. That early space is mine. Some days I move with a run or Pilates. Other days I rest or sit quietly. I’ve learned to tune into my body, especially around my cycle, and not force myself through routines that don’t serve me that day.
By 7am, the day starts rolling. Axel and I dive into the morning rush. Sometimes there’s music, sometimes it’s quiet. We often have a quick dance while making breakfast. Nutrition is really important in our house. I want Axel to start the day with food that fuels his body and mind. I usually make breakfast and lunch for him, but lately he’s been taking more ownership and packing his own. Watching him do that, in his own way, has been such a powerful reminder of how kids grow through what they’re trusted with.
You launched Happy Souls Kids in response to the mental health crisis. What was that early phase like, and what gave you the courage to move forward with it?
In 2019, we separated. My son started school, and then COVID hit. It all happened at once.
He wasn’t okay; neither was I.
He was running out of the house, flipping bins, and jumping out of the car. His nervous system was overwhelmed, and his emotions were bursting out. I had studied breathwork, meditation, and emotional regulation, but nothing seemed to connect with him.
So I went searching. I trained further, becoming a family and child counsellor and an art therapist, studying play therapy, kids’ yoga, and more breathwork, because I sought a way forward.
Then one day I was with a boy during a session who reminded me of Axel. I asked if he wanted to try meditation. He rolled his eyes. I said, “You know LeBron James meditates?” His face lit up. He was in. That moment shifted something in me. It wasn’t that kids didn’t want support; we weren’t speaking their language.
That was the beginning of Happy Souls Kids, a platform that uses storytelling, humour, and the influence of people kids already admire. We’re leveraging athletes and role models to teach kids mindfulness and self-regulation in a way they can connect with. It’s gamified, playful, and designed by kids, for kids.
Because kids don’t want to be told how to feel; they want to feel understood. When they see someone they admire modelling regulation, they mirror it. Our kids are always watching. It’s not about perfection; it’s about presence.
Your work blends therapy, creativity, and emotional regulation. How do you translate that into something kids can actually engage with?
Storytelling: Kids connect with stories more than with instruction. That’s where the shift happens. They listen when they relate and respond when they feel safe. We employ gamified storytelling, short clips, humour, and familiar faces to model emotional literacy. Every piece is designed around engagement, not lecturing.
But the most important part is that it’s designed for families to do together. Our vision is for parents and children to grow side by side. The connection comes from doing it with them, not for them.
The new app sounds like an exciting next step. How are you thinking about combining tech, storytelling, and emotional learning in a meaningful way?
The app is a tool for connection, not a replacement. We’re not here to keep kids glued to a screen; we’re here to give them tools they can use in the real world. When emotional learning is grounded in story and delivered with compassion, it sticks.
We want kids to take what they hear and feel into their friendships, classrooms, and homes. We want parents to be part of it. When a child sees their parents learning too, it builds trust. When they observe emotional tools modelled back to them, they begin to use them naturally. That’s the ripple effect.
You’ve shared openly about sobriety and personal growth. How have those experiences shaped how you lead, parent, and create?
Sobriety taught me to feel everything I used to run from. It stripped away the people-pleasing, the need to be liked, and gave me space to return to myself. I realised I could still be kind and say no. I could still be soft and have boundaries. I could make mistakes and still be a good mum, a good human.
It has changed how I parent. I no longer aim for perfection. Instead, I aim to repair, to show up, and to take care of myself so I can care for Axel from a regulated place. That’s where I lead from now on too: emotional honesty, self-trust, and integrity, even when it’s messy.
How do you carve out space to recharge while managing a business, parenting, and launching something new?
Some days I don’t. I’ve learned to forgive myself for that. For a long time, I believed I had to push myself hard to feel like I was doing enough. Now, I’m learning to soften.
I still love movement, but I’ve swapped some of the HIIT workouts for floats, nature walks, breathwork, and time by the ocean. I surf when I can and put my phone away to play board games with Axel. Those moments feel like medicine. The balance between the energy of building a startup and maintaining a connected relationship with my son is still a place that I’m learning about – it’s tough, but he always comes first. We have many open conversations to ensure we are both seen, heard and valued.
As women, I also believe we must listen to our bodies and cycles. There is wisdom in knowing when to go and when to pause.
What advice would you give to a parent or caregiver who wants to support their child’s mental health—but doesn’t know where to start?
Start small. Start with the connection.
Sit beside them. Don’t fix. Don’t rush. Just be there. Say, “That sounds really hard.” Say, “I’m here with you.” Allow them to see you breathe through your own overwhelm. Let them hear you say, “I’m still figuring this out, too.” Let them see you make mistakes and have hard days. Reflect the waves of emotions you feel and the ways you regulate.
Give them at least 15 minutes a day of your undivided attention. Let them lead. No phone, no distractions. It doesn’t have to be deep; it must be real. Play a game, go for a walk, or build Lego, play Nintendo, go into their world, whatever makes them feel seen.
Emotional regulation doesn’t begin with a strategy; it begins with you. Your child doesn’t need a perfect parent; they need a present one. They don’t care if the house is clean; they care that you are there with them every step of the way. Never underestimate the power of connection and eye contact. It’s shows like “Adolescence” that are showcasing the need for the parent-child connection and its importance in their upbringing.
That’s where it all begins. That’s where everything begins.
