All of Me

Okay so… I started a bakery. Like, actually. Juniper Noir Bakery officially opens February 1st, and I’m opening pre-orders ahead of time so I can ease into this without losing my mind (or my love for baking). This bakery didn’t come from some perfectly planned business moment. It came from healing, late nights, chaos, creativity, and a very strong need to make something that feels comforting — both to make and to share. Juniper Noir is a home-based, pre-order bakery. No storefront. No rush culture. No pumping out a million things at once. Everything is made in small batches, by order, with care. I’ll be baking: • cakes • cupcakes • cookies • chocolates • sourdough • beer bread All pre-order only, because my nervous system deserves peace. Why I Started This (The Real Answer) For a long time, I was just surviving. Not dreaming. Not building. Just getting through days and hoping things would eventually feel lighter. I didn’t always have space to imagine a future —...

You made the decision to stay. That doesn’t mean you feel okay. It doesn’t mean you feel hopeful. It doesn’t mean you feel proud. It just means — for one more moment — you didn’t disappear. This post exists for the quiet that comes after that decision. After the countdowns. After the “new year, new start” noise fades. After everyone else goes back to living and you’re left alone with your thoughts again. This is the in-between. And future me — if you’re reading this later — remember how heavy this part was. Right Now, Nothing Feels Different You expected something to change when you decided to stay. You thought maybe the pain would ease, or clarity would come, or at least the chaos would soften. Instead, it’s quiet in the most uncomfortable way. You’re still tired. Still hurting. Still carrying everything you carried before — just with the added weight of trying. That doesn’t mean the decision was wrong. It means you’re early. Healing doesn’t show up w...