I can’t begin to figure out what I haven’t shared here or at all. Have I even mentioned on my Substack that we moved back to our neighborhood of East Nashville over two months ago? Or has the heartbreak of it all felt too scary to tap into through my words? The last six months flew by as this harrowing and promising life change forced my intentions for the fall to go on hold. I was in the middle of having my own brand of small-batch lifestyle merch created by some of my favorite makers and artists when everything shifted. The way our whole world flipped upside down has me dizzy, even months later.
My former therapist once suggested that maybe I create chaos because it’s what feels familiar and that idea has been bouncing around in my head these days. My oldest kid moved out on his own, staying behind in Florida as we moved back to Tennessee, the necessary focus on relocating the ten of us, getting our home ready to sell, losing our work space (our garage in FL), and the holidays happening all at once put a strain on the time we have been able to put into our business. Add in the straight facts of sales slowing down for seemingly every business and industry. What a time to be alive
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All of that said, I’m grateful to be surrounded by friends again in a place that feels like home. But I can’t help but feel like we left home. I miss our house, our backyard, our bedroom, the palm trees, the neighborhood and the beach. I miss our neighbors and friends we made in the businesses we frequented. I miss the Seaside Farmers Market. I miss my safe place. We’re renting the home we’re living in for now and my life experiences don’t allow my heart settle into a place that I can’t truly call my own.
Oh yeah… and Matt and I are opening a retail shop. Wild times.
Yeah. I think I’m feeling better.