I thought I was rethinking my website. Instead, I uncovered the heart of my work.

Over the past seven years, I've learned that trusting yourself doesn't mean you have to go it alone.

Trust grows in relationship.

None of those decisions happened because they looked courageous from the outside.

They happened because they felt true from the inside.

The point wasn't getting it "right." The point was letting my inner knowing, instead of my inner critic, make the decision.

I went to each of these people seeking something: support, care, guidance, expertise, an outcome. That was the First River.

But inside my body, I could feel something happening in the Second River that didn’t feel right.

And because of power dynamics, conditioning, and a lifetime of messages telling women to be accommodating, convenient, and “not make waves,” I often went along with it.

For me, Mother’s Day has been tender for a long time.

I remember working in a small retail shop in Portland 12 years ago while customers smiled and asked if I was a mom myself. Even then, in my early 30s, I felt the ache in my heart answering no.

Nature is quietly doing what it does. Changing, growing, holding.

Side by side on the trail, instead of face to face in a room, the women share their stories of loss. There’s space to pause, to cry, to breathe. Somehow, being outside makes it all feel a little more possible to carry.

Beauty and heartbreak.
Hope and exhaustion.
Moments of joy sitting right next to anger, grief, or uncertainty.

It's all true at the same time.