life

Last week, I lost someone very special to me. Someone who always put others first, who was humble, generous, humorous, and kind. Someone who always had an amusing story, which he’d tell with great expression, or some nugget of wisdom to share. Someone who fought a long, valiant battle with cancer for five years—gracefully, courageously, and with an unwavering will to live. 

And as I sat with that grief, I felt a familiar ache rise in my chest—the same one I felt exactly this time twenty-five years ago when I lost my mom to cancer after her own brave fight. I also deeply grieved my father-in-law, another man who I adored, earlier this year after his health struggle. Loss is so tough. 

It’s strange how time can fold in on itself in moments like this. How a present loss can awaken an echo from the past and remind you of how fragile and precious life really is.

But this isn’t a story about loss.

It’s a story about what loss has taught me.

And why, all these years later after losing my beloved mom, I care so deeply about health and the choices we make every single day.

Losing my mom so young cracked something open in me. At the time, I didn’t have words for it. I just knew life was never going to look the same.

For years, I carried questions that didn’t have answers. Why her? Why so soon? Why do some people get better and others don’t?

Back then, I believed illness was something that simply happened to us—random, cruel, out of our control.

But years later, when I began my own journey toward wellness, I started learning things that both shocked and empowered me. I learned that so much of what we experience with our health isn’t just written in our genes. It’s written in the environments we live in, the products we use, the food we eat, the air we breathe, and the habits we keep without even realizing it.

That realization shifted everything.

It didn’t take away the pain of loss—but it gave it purpose, and that was a start.

About a decade ago, I started learning more about what true wellness really means. I discovered that our bodies are incredibly intelligent—they’re constantly trying to move toward healing, if only we’d give them the right support.

So I began to make small changes.

I swapped out products filled with harsh chemicals for better, plant-based ones.

I learned to read ingredient labels.

I paid attention to what I was putting on my skin, in my body, and around my home.

I started using essential oils, nourishing supplements, and cleaner household products—not because I wanted perfection, but because I wanted to live with more awareness.

And little by little, things began to change.

My energy returned. My mood lifted. I felt more balanced, more grounded, more alive.

It was like I had finally reconnected to something that had been waiting for me all along—a sense of partnership with my body and the environment around me.

We can’t control everything.

We can’t control genetics. 

We can’t control every circumstance or every outcome.

But we can choose what we bring into our homes, how we nourish ourselves, and what we prioritize in our daily lives.

And those choices matter more than we think.

Because over time, small choices become habits, and habits become a way of life.

For me, this isn’t about fear—it’s about freedom.

The freedom to feel good in my body.

The freedom to show up for my family.

The freedom to live with intention instead of reaction.

And maybe most importantly, it’s about the freedom to live a different story than the one that broke me years ago.

When I think about my mom now, I think about her laughter, her warmth, her kindness. And I think about how much she would have loved to see the life I live today—one rooted in wellness, awareness, and choice.

I’ll never know what might have been different if we had known then what I know now. But what I do know is this: I can honor her by living differently.

Every clean product I choose, every drop of essential oil, every glass of water instead of soda—it all feels like a quiet way of saying, “I learned. I remember. I’m choosing life.”

That’s the legacy I want to leave for my children too.

I want them to grow up understanding that health isn’t just about avoiding illness—it’s about cultivating energy, joy, and longevity. It’s about giving your body the best possible chance to thrive.

Loss has a way of sharpening our focus. It reminds us that time is precious, that our bodies are miraculous, and that caring for ourselves is not selfish—it’s sacred.

I don’t talk about wellness because it’s trendy or convenient. I talk about it because it matters.

Because I’ve lived the other side of it.

Because I’ve watched what happens when we don’t know what we don’t know.

And because I believe with my whole heart that knowledge—paired with action—has the power to change the trajectory of a life.

Whether you’re currently facing health challenges, you feel healthy as can be, or you’re somewhere in the middle—small changes can make a difference. 

If you’ve ever lost someone and felt that ache of wishing things could have been different—

If you’ve ever felt the nudge to live a little more intentionally, but didn’t know where to start—

You’re not alone.

Swap one product.

Drink a little more water.

Breathe deeply.

Get your body moving, even just for 15 minutes.

Use an oil that helps you feel calm or grounded. 

They create momentum.

They build a new story—one rooted in awareness, in wellness, in life.

And that, to me, is the most beautiful way to turn loss into legacy.