When Asking Is the Bravest Thing You Can Do

Honoring Community, Rejecting Judgment, and Remembering the Power of Collective Care

I remember the struggles of motherhood. As a woman who raised three children, it was certainly challenging. After we lost our home, we lived pillar to post. Sometimes I made sure they had a place to sleep while I rested in a vehicle, just to avoid burdening the families offering us support. It took years to recover from the debt, the losses, the embarrassment, and the deep disruption to my life. I even started a fundraiser once, trying to raise $5,000 just to get back on track. Those were tough times.

Recently, a woman around my age that's still raising a family, bravely asked our community for help. Not surprisingly, some responded with messages lacking compassion. I saw things like: “Don’t be desperate,” or “It’s embarrassing to ask,” or the familiar “I’ll pray for you” with no real support behind it. I messaged her to let her know she is seen, known, felt, and cared for deeply. I offered quiet, tangible support and reminded her that God, the Creator of all would sustain and keep her.

This encounter made my heart and spirit feel deeply ready for tree-life living. A place where the community sits in a circle and eats from the same pot. Progress has, in many ways, broken down our capacity for care and collective concern. We’ve traded compassion for competition, community for individualism. Why are we so hell-bent on appearing whole, never in need, always polished, excellent, and put-together? I don’t believe that God ever intended for us to collect things (wealth, status, houses, cars, etc.) and neglect our neighbors and community. 

We till the ground and produce food, yes, but we’re also meant to sit together and enjoy the fruits of our labor as a community. I’m tired of rugged individualism and capitalism at all costs, even when it costs us our elders, our children, and the most vulnerable among us. I have thoughts and solutions. They’re not divisive, but sometimes when I share them, ridicule and scorn come my way. Some people like to have someone to look down on. I am not one of them. 

Though my means are modest, I give what I can to support the collective. I always have and I always will. My heart is not tethered to things; it’s anchored in love, for the betterment of humankind and the earth.

With Love for the Collective,

Stacie J.

🌷 Take Care of Your Mother’s Daughter (Borrowed Title)

A Love Letter for Daughters Missing Their Mothers and the Women Who Nurture Us All

My mother was, and still is, my rock.

If you didn’t know us, you might’ve thought I was an only child because I did all the “only child” things. Even at 21, with children of my own, I would curl up in her lap when I needed comfort. I’d lay my head on her lap when sadness hit. I called her countless times each week just to hear her voice. And yes, I even asked her to pat my back just because it soothed me. And she always did, without question.

May is always a complicated month. It holds both Mother’s Day and Memorial Day, and it carries the ache of deep remembrance for me. My mother passed away on May 29, 2000 which was Memorial Day weekend. This year marks 25 years without her, and while I’ve learned how to carry my grief, the weight never disappears.

In those early years, I created new traditions. Instead of focusing on her death in May, I celebrated her life on her birthday in February. As time passed and my healing deepened, those gatherings grew and shifted, and now, once again, I’m evolving.

This year, I’m holding space not just for myself, but for you. For every woman who has known the love, complexity, or absence of a mother. For every daughter navigating life with an ache in her chest. For every community caretaker, sister-friend, grandmother, or mother-figure who carries grief and gives love.

I invite you to join me for “The Power of Pause,” my inaugural post–Mother’s Day event, a gentle space for reflection, connection, and restoration. We will gather to breathe, feel, and be held in community.

Earlier today, I attended an online gathering called “Mother’s Day for Motherless Daughters,” and it moved me deeply. Nearly 400 women gathered virtually, sharing stories, tears, tools, and truths. One quote pierced my heart and stayed with me:

“Take care of your mother’s daughter.”

I don’t recall who said it, but it felt like it was meant for all of us.

So today, I say it to you: Take care of your mother’s daughter.
Speak kindly to yourself. Wrap your arms around your grief and joy.
Whether you had a beautiful bond with your mother, a complicated relationship, or none at all, your journey is valid, and you are loved.

And if your mother or any woman who’s nurtured you is still here, go hug her.
And give her one from me, too.

Sending Warm Hugs,

Stacie 

NOTE: This title was inspired by a phrase shared during the “Mother’s Day for Motherless Daughters” gathering. I may not remember who said it, but the words live in my heart—and now I pass them on to you.

Book Review: The Courageous Pursuit of Authenticity

An Anthology by Eight Courageous Women

As a woman on her own healing journey, and one who serves others as a Healer, this book spoke directly to my soul. The Courageous Pursuit of Authenticity is a powerful reminder that although our lives are vastly different, they are also deeply connected. Story is what weaves us together, offering understanding, validation, and the space to feel seen.

I had the honor of meeting one of the authors, Mrs. Nyoka Samuels-Gilchrist, during a women’s event where she spoke candidly about menopause. Her topic, “Girl, It’s Getting Hot in Here,” was both relatable and empowering. She offered practical advice, shared herbal remedies, and encouraged us to advocate for ourselves, starting with checking our hormone levels. Her presence and wisdom left a lasting impression.

Reading her chapter in this anthology felt oddly familiar. No, I didn’t immigrate to the U.S. like she did, but I do know what it’s like to be uprooted. To leave behind a place you love, filled with the laughter of childhood friends, and step into unfamiliar territory. I also know what it’s like to experience a “nervous breakdown” and have it dismissed by family, friends, and even medical professionals. Especially when you’re seen as “too young,” or “the strong one,” or accused of simply exaggerating.

This book mirrors the style I use in my own writing. Each chapter invites you to pause, reflect, and dig deep into your own soul. The journaling prompts are gentle nudges toward inner truth, and the stories are full of wisdom, vulnerability, and courage.

I give this anthology a solid 5 out of 5 stars—not just for the powerful narratives and healing reflections, but for its thoughtful design. The cover is stunning, and the layout pulls you in before you even read the first word.

If you are on a journey toward deeper self-awareness and wholeness, The Courageous Pursuit of Authenticity belongs in your hands and your heart.