What I Hope Comes Out of This Journey

When I think about everything I’m building such as the gatherings, the conversations, and the community, I keep coming back to one quiet hope:

That I would be a vessel.

Not the center.

Not the star.

Not the expert with all the answers.

But a vessel for something sacred.

Something healing.

Something that reminds people they’re not alone.

Because while I love beauty, and creativity, and the joy of bringing women together… it’s never really been about the logistics. Or the structure. Or even the success.

It’s always been about what happens underneath it all, the unseen currents of connection. The gentle unraveling of shame. The way someone’s eyes light up when they realize they’re not too much, not too behind, not too broken.

What I hope comes out of this journey isn’t a perfectly curated business or the right amount of followers.

It’s that someone, somewhere, walks away feeling more seen.

More grounded.

More equipped to trust themselves again.

That a woman who’s been running on empty finally feels nourished.

That someone who’s been questioning her worth finds stillness.

That someone who’s been striving learns to soften not because she gave up, but because she remembered her value doesn’t come from proving anything.

I don’t want to just create a space that looks good.

I want to create one that feels safe.

One where people can exhale.

Where growth doesn’t feel like pressure, but possibility.

Where you are reminded again and again that you are already enough and you’re allowed to grow anyway.

This journey?

It’s not about building a platform.

It’s about building trust in God, in ourselves, in each other.

If there’s any legacy I hope to leave through this, it’s this:

That I showed up with an open heart.

That I stayed tender in a world that numbs.

That I created space for others to rise, heal, and belong.

And that through it all, I remained a vessel

not full of answers,

but full of love.