The Last 2 Years
In the summer of 2016, I sold a most of what I owned, said goodbye my family and friends, packed what I could into the back of a Jeep Grand Cherokee and moved my entire life to Atlanta, Georgia. People always ask me “why Atlanta?” Well, sometimes we move our entire lives for a relationship. We shift things, start new jobs, and make changes for a relationship. Sometimes we move and change and sometimes things don’t work out.
All that to say: I am no longer living in Atlanta and am no longer in that relationship, personally or professionally. I’m back in Canada, and back to freelancing full-time with my business, Hatch & Harbour. Though I am no longer associated with The Shore, I am still openly talking about Mental Health, I always will. I’m currently speaking on that subject and will continue to as long as we need voices to talk about it.
Sometimes things don’t work out…
…or at least the way we think they will.
In the middle of 2018, I had to start my life over. With a heavy heart, I had to leave the life I’d spent 2 years building, pack what I could into 6 suitcases, and fly back to Canada with my two dogs in hand. And that’s where I’ve been: in the process of rebuilding my life, healing, and working, all a little bit under the radar. Rebuilding isn’t easy, but I was lucky enough to not have to do it alone with a lot of help from family and friends.
So that’s the short version. There’s a lot of story still to be told, but I’m not ready to share it…just yet.
What I am ready for is to be known as just me again. When you intertwine your life with someone else, especially in a tight-knit community, and it ends, it comes with a lot of questions. Do I have an obligation to answer any of them? No, not at all. But in taking the advice of one of my dear (and oh-so-wise) friends, it would be a lot kinder to my future self to let people know where I’m at. I have a life to live, a business to run, and dreams to achieve. All of which I can’t do alone, and it’s a lot harder to receive help if no one knows what I’m doing.
So today, I’ve got my 6 suitcases, a little more, and a boatload of gratitude. I’m back running my solo design studio, Hatch & Harbour, specializing in building brands for small businesses. I’m making art a priority and wanting to do a lot more of it. I’m in the process of shaping what intertwining my art and design looks like. I’m speaking again and wanting to do a lot more of it.
I’m also building something new…
And I’m also building something new. It’s called You Are The Wolf. It is a movement to raise awareness around speaking out on our emotional struggles, abuse, heartbreak, and healing. It’s community, empathy, understanding, and conversation. It exists to break the silence and to shed light on the struggles so many feel they need to face alone. You Are The Wolf is to see yourself in someone else. It is to know we are not alone in our stories. Right now, it’s in the process of being built, but you can follow along here and get updates here.
So why am I sharing this update? Well, in total vulnerability, I need help with all the things. And like I said, you can’t receive help if you don’t ask. So if you know someone who needs branding or design work, I’m taking on new clients! If you want custom art pieces, murals, or illustrations, I’m your gal! If you are hosting an event, conference, workshop, or run a podcast and would like to have me speak about Mental Health, design, or You Are The Wolf, please send me a note.
And You Are The Wolf needs to be shared and put out there as much as possible. This is a labour of love right now and it is so so important to me. It would mean the absolute world if you could follow, like, share, or sign up. Coming really soon, there will be products for purchase, stories, blog posts, events, and resources.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking the time to sit with me in this. It means more to me that you know that you took the time to read these words. Throughout this process, thank you to all who’ve checked on me, encouraged me, spent hours on the phone with me, sent me messages, or shown up at my doorstep with coffee and hugs. I’m so incredibly grateful to be here.