As | look at Nina from Wild Bloom, her shirt slipping gently off her shoulder, so relaxed in her body and presence, it pulls me back to another version of myself. Twenty-four years old. Newly separated. No job. Living with my mom with my 2 year old son. Standing in the unknown with no clear picture of what came next. And somehow, in the middle of all of that uncertainty, I found another soul who simply saw me. Not for what I could become. Not for my potential. Not for what I could offer. Just me. And he chose to love me there. Through every season since, even the hardest ones. Even the days when I made it difficult to be loved, when I was hurting, unraveling, guarded, overwhelmed. He stayed. He loved me through all of it. There's something so sacred about being loved before you "arrive." Before you figure yourself out. Before life looks polished or certain. Just being fully seen in your humanness and loved anyway. I feel myself stepping back into that girl again. The one who stood in the unknown with softness still in her heart. Open. Curious.Ready for whatever came next. But this time, I return to her with lived experience. With grief and beauty woven into me. With lessons, loss, motherhood, love, healing, and becoming carried in my bones. And now, instead of searching for permission to exist, I feel ready to share my heart with the world. Not from a place of needing to prove anything, but simply because l've lived. Because I know what it means to break and rebuild. Because I know how deeply humans ache to be seen, held, and understood. There's something beautiful about meeting yourself again after all these years and realizing she never really left. She was just waiting for you to come home to her.🌱✨

Happy Birthday to the man who makes our world feel both grounded and expansive all at once. The kids and I were talking about you this morning and somehow (per usual with our crew), the conversations turned into one of those deep, funny, slightly wild reflections on life and yes even death. They said things like, "Dad isn't afraid of anything." And, "He talks about death like it's just another part of the story." And we realized.....what a gift that is. You've shown them that strength isn't just muscles or pushing through....it's being able to sit with the big things, speak them out loud, and not run from what most people are too scared to touch. You've made it safe in our home to talk about everything: life, fear, endings, beginnings and somehow still laugh in the middle of it all. That kind of strength? It stays with them. We love you for your depth, your steadiness, your humor, and the way you hold space for all of us to be fully ourselves. Happy Birthday. We're so lucky you're ours!