The same heart that breaks wide open… can hold it all.

When my mom died, I lost more than her.

I lost my sense of self.

I lost my creativity.

Everything I did was to accomplish something.

No frills. No exploring. No creativity.

Just did enough to survive the loss.

Grief stripped me down to only what I could carry,

and for a long time, that wasn’t much.

Years later, I became a mother.

And somehow, it felt familiar.

The same disorientation.

The same nights that stretched forever.

The same ache in my chest.

Losing a mother.

Gaining a son.

Both changed the shape of me.

Both asked me to give pieces of myself I didn’t know I had.

Both made me disappear for a while.

Moving Bravely has been my way back—

to my voice,

to my creativity,

to my sense of self,

to a woman rooted in vibrancy, intuition, patience, and essentialism.

The story I’m writing is this:

loss can lead to life.

And the same heart that breaks wide open…

can hold it all.