Frida's cafe

It has been a while. Nowadays, life feels like it’s moving at a different speed. It feels faster, more urgent, and a bit more chaotic, but at the same time, it feels more intentional—more enjoyable.

The last few years have been transformative in so many ways. Professionally, I moved on from a long-term job and a team that felt like family, only to start a new role I’d lose just a year later. While it was upsetting at first, it was truly the best thing that could have happened; it pushed me to pause and figure out what I want for my career long-term, eventually leading me to a role that feels much healthier and more welcoming.

Personally, I’ve had to navigate explaining these changes to my son while supporting him through his own transition into his teenage years. At the same time, life unexpectedly brought me back to my middle school crush. It’s been a process learning how to be open and embrace a relationship I never allowed myself to imagine. It has felt surreal—and wonderful—to talk about him and, at times, introduce him as my boyfriend to those closest to me.

During this time, I’ve also strengthened my commitment to the hard work of understanding myself and processing how my childhood traumas have shaped my life and relationships. I am learning how to do less and be more intentional with my time and energy. The drive for this comes from a phrase on my vision board this year:

“Cats do less. Be like your cat.”

I have to give credit to my son, who found this in a magazine at our annual vision board party with friends. It has become an anthem—a driver for my mental health and balance. I’ve realized that sometimes I do too much. I expect too much—from myself and others—which tends to lead to frustration and disappointment. I am learning how to pace myself, be better about setting boundaries, and give myself and others more grace. I’m learning I don’t have to do everything; I only need to do what I can in the moment.

This shift has also led me to be more intentional with my time and the people I surround myself with. It is teaching me to be more understanding and to process feelings differently. As a mom of a teenage boy, I’m finding this helps me accept the detachment that can happen during this phase. Realizing my baby is no longer a baby hasn’t been easy, but it is fascinating to witness his transformation, his growth, and his evolution. It is also validating to see the kind-hearted human he is, and I like to think I’ve played a role in that.

No one ever explains motherhood like it truly is because it’s impossible. It is impossible to put into words the rollercoaster of emotions, challenges, and lessons that come with it. It is a deeply personal experience for everyone, and that’s what makes it so beautiful.

This post is like me in this moment—all over the place—and that’s okay. I woke up this morning with a list of things to do, but decided to practice self-care instead. Writing is one of my favorite self-care practices, but I don’t do it enough. So, that’s what I’m gifting myself this Mother’s Day: a moment to reflect, process, and share the beautiful chaos my life has been these last few years.