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.