Growing Past Fear

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on where I am in my personal life and where this business stands. I’ve grown and learned so much over the past few years. I often tell people who meet me now that they wouldn’t recognize the version of me that existed before. And it’s true. But at my core, I’m still the same person I’ve always been.

Some parts of us can shift and transform with time and effort, while others feel like immovable truths—things that stay constant no matter how much we change. I’m not entirely sure anymore which parts of me are fixed and which are fluid. What I do know is that the traits I thought defined me for so long seem to have faded. It’s not that they were replaced, but rather that other parts of me have grown stronger.

I was a scared child who became a fearful young woman, and later, a fearful adult. I once heard someone say, “Fear is like rust—it spreads.” That line hit me hard because I recognized myself in it. After my divorce, I got a dog—Ego. If you’ve been here for a while, you’ve probably heard me talk about him. Ego changed my life, and I believe he changed my kids’ lives too.

There’s a line from the musical Rent that says, “You not only changed me for the better—you changed me for good.” That’s exactly how I feel about Ego. I never felt truly safe—not in my marriage, rarely in my home, and certainly not in the world—until we got him.

I found Ego through a personal protection dog trainer who matches dogs from Europe with families here, mostly women. Part of the agreement when I got him was to train with him a few times a week for two years. Ego was already over two years old when he joined our family—he knew what he was doing, but I had a lot to learn. That training was one of the most therapeutic experiences of my life. Through it, I learned how to regain control, how to respect myself and my boundaries, and how to work with him to keep us safe. Those days were exhausting—but most meaningful change is. 

Having Ego continues to reward me. I feel safer and less anxious now, but more than that—I’ve learned how to hold boundaries even when he’s not by my side. I never would have been able to start this business without that foundation. Feeling safe isn’t just about your environment—it’s about trust, too. The kind of trust that says, “I’ll be okay no matter what happens. I can catch myself if I fall.” That trust has changed everything for me.

There’s still a lot I’m working on internally, because this business is an extension of me. I’ve learned that when I’m not thriving, the business can’t thrive either. Maybe some people can compartmentalize—keep their personal life and emotions separate from their work—but I can’t. And honestly, I don’t think I’d want to.

This isn’t just a jewelry business, even though that’s what we design, make, and sell. This is a business of the soul—my soul. Every piece I create carries my story, my vision, my dreams. And when you wear one of my pieces, you’re adding your story to it. It becomes a shared experience—a perfect, beautiful union. A living memory, held in something tangible. A wearable piece of art that we call jewelry.