This might sound bold, but I’ve grown to admire myself—and not just because I’ve survived hard things, but because of how I keep showing up for my life with honesty, curiosity, and courage.
I’ve walked through profound grief. Losing my mother and the future I once imagined changed everything. But it didn’t stop me. It stirred something deeper in me—something adventurous, something sacred.
I’ve faced emotional truths head-on. Through therapy, reflection, and reading books that challenge and comfort me, I’ve learned to sit with pain and not let it define me.
I’ve created safe spaces online—each one a reflection of different sides of me. I write about faith. I share reflections on books that make me think. I lean into beauty, comfort, and even chaos. I dream big in business. I romanticize tea time. I plan trips, bucket lists, and new ventures with the same care I once reserved for grieving.
That adventurous spark? It took time to find again. This blog once began as a food space. Then it became a grief space. And now? Now it’s a home for the journey ahead—the travel, the risks, the wild ideas, and the growth that comes when you dare to become someone new.
I hold so many contradictions, and I no longer apologize for them. I’m spiritual and sensual, broken and building, grieving and growing. I’m not just surviving—I’m evolving.
And that? That’s worth admiring.
