Life, much like nature, flows in seasons. There are seasons of blooming, of thriving, of busyness and joy. And then there are seasons of hardship—quiet winters where we’re asked to slow down, reflect, and grow in ways we never imagined.
Over the past year, I’ve gone through my own personal winter. Two major health scares forced me to pause, to breathe, and to truly take stock of what matters most. For so long, I’ve been the rock for everyone around me—family, friends, colleagues. It’s a role I’ve taken seriously and with love, but the truth is, always being the strong one can slowly chip away at your own well-being.
So, I stepped back. I took the last few months off to recenter myself, to remember who I am outside of responsibilities and expectations. It was time to rediscover me—the creative soul who sees beauty in the everyday, who finds joy in design, in colors, in textures, and in the way inspiration hides in plain sight.
During this season of reflection, I was also reminded of life’s fragility. The loss of loved ones has a way of shaking us awake. It strips away the noise and brings everything into focus. Suddenly, what once felt urgent or important pales in comparison to simply being present, to holding onto moments, to loving deeply and living fully.
These experiences—though painful—have taught me that challenges are not just obstacles; they are invitations. Invitations to grow, to learn, to transform. When life gets hard, instead of pushing through on autopilot, we must pause. Ask ourselves: What is this moment trying to teach me?
What I’ve learned is that healing takes time. That it’s okay to not be okay. That taking care of yourself isn't selfish—it’s essential. And most importantly, I’ve remembered why I started this journey in the first place: to create. To find meaning and beauty, even in the mess. Especially in the mess.
So as I step into a new season, I do so with clarity, gratitude, and a heart that’s just a little more open. I’m coming back to myself, and I’m bringing all of that growth with me.
If you’re in a hard season right now, know this: it won’t last forever. Let it teach you, let it shape you, and when spring comes—because it always does—you’ll bloom even stronger than before.