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Hello Reader, I don’t usually write emails like this, but this season has asked a lot of my heart — and based on the responses pouring in from my latest blog, I know I’m not the only one navigating a rough stretch right now. I wrote a piece called “When November Breaks Your Heart: Holding Grief and Gratitude at the Same Time.” It’s honest. It’s tender. And it’s very much where I’ve been these past few weeks. This November brought the loss of a long-time friend and the final chapter of my mom’s long Alzheimer’s journey. She passed away the day after Thanksgiving, at 93. I’m deeply sad… and I’m also grateful. Grateful that her suffering is over. Grateful she left this world gently. Grateful we had a chance to share memories, tell her we loved her, and say goodbye before she slipped away. On top of that, there has been grief in my extended family, too. Some days I feel heavy and heartbroken. Some moments I feel strangely relieved that a hard season has finally come to an end. Most days, it’s a confusing mix of both. What I didn’t expect is how many of you would reach out saying: “Me too. I’m hurting too.” Women shared stories of losing partners, parents, siblings, friends… sometimes all within months of each other. They talked about the heaviness of the holidays, the pressure to “be festive,” and the quiet ways grief sneaks into the most ordinary moments — like hearing a song, seeing a favorite ornament, or setting one less place at the table. And that reminded me why I write these things in the first place: We heal a little more when we stop carrying everything alone. If you’re walking through a hard December — or if the holidays bring up more ache than joy — I want you to know this: You don’t have to pretend. You can let yourself feel what’s here. If you’d like to read the full reflection, you can find it here: 👉 Read the blog: When November Breaks Your Heart And if the blog resonates, I’d love to hear what small thing is helping you make it through the day right now. Sometimes hearing another woman say “same here” is the greatest comfort. Sending you a breath, a bit of softness, and a reminder that you’re not alone in this season. With love, 💛 |
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Hello friend, Life has felt heavy lately. Losing both of my parents in such a short time has changed me in ways I’m still figuring out… and the noise in the world right now doesn’t exactly help. So I’m writing this email as a reminder — for you and for me. When things feel overwhelming, humor isn’t avoidance. It’s survival. I realized this week that one of my oldest coping strategies — laughing with my girlfriends — is something I haven’t made enough space for lately. Not polite laughter —...
Hello Reader, Lately, I’ve been sitting with this question:What still matters when everything feels fragile? I wrote a short reflection about staying grounded, simplifying, and returning to what truly matters during uncertain seasons. 👉 Read it here. If you’d like my Grounding Guide, just reply to this email with the word “GROUND” and I’ll send it to you. 🌿 Holding you gently, Andrea
Dear Reader, When life feels fragile—personally or collectively—something interesting happens. The noise falls away.The to-do lists lose their urgency.And we’re left face-to-face with a quieter question: What actually matters right now? Not in theory.Not someday.But in this season. Moments like these have a way of clarifying what’s essential. They remind us that meaning doesn’t come from doing more—it comes from tending to what’s already here. For many women, what rises to the surface is...