Thirteen Years Ago Today, Everything Changed
Okay… you’re probably thinking:
“Rachel… what is with all this slow living stuff? The tea? The wintering?
The wellness talk?”
Like… are we living in a cottagecore Pinterest board now?
Do I need to start wearing linen aprons and making homemade jam? And honestly—I get it. Because a few years ago, I would’ve rolled my eyes a little too. But here’s the truth: This shift didn’t come from some trend I wanted to follow.
It came from my real life.And actually… today is one of those days that makes it all feel even more real.
Because today is my 13-year anniversary of being diagnosed with MS.
Like actually on this day—thirteen years ago—I was in a hospital hearing words that would change my whole life.
And what’s wild is… one year to the day after that, I was sitting at my first well visit—pregnant with my second child.
I remember thinking, how is this even possible?
Because after that diagnosis, I truly didn’t know what my life would look like. I didn’t know what my body would allow. I didn’t know if I would ever feel steady again. I didn’t know if I’d have another baby… or honestly, if I would ever feel like “me” again.
So yes. Today holds a lot. And here’s the part I want to say without sugarcoating it:
life with this disease is hard. Pain is constant. It’s not always visible, but it’s there. And there are days where I have to dig deep and show up anyway.
But I’ve learned things. Real lessons. The kind you don’t get from a quote on a mug.
And that’s what has changed the way I design.
That’s what changed the way I live.
That’s what shifted everything.
At some point—without even realizing it—I stopped designing homes that were just “beautiful,” and I started designing homes that actually supported people.
Because life gets real.
And it gets real for everyone. I know this is not just my hardship alone.
We are all dealing with something.
Something heavy. Something stressful. Something private. Something we don’t post about.
And if you’re walking around thinking you’re the only one struggling with what you’re carrying…
You’re not.
You’re not unique in your pain, your overwhelm, your anxiety, your exhaustion, your grief, your health stuff, your relationship stuff, your “too much on your plate” stuff.
Someone else is holding something similar—worse or better-- doesn’t matter—because it still counts.
It still impacts You.
And it still affects how you function inside your own life.
That’s why I started talking about things like wintering and wellness
and the idea of living slower.
Not because it’s cute.
Because it’s necessary.
What I’ve come to believe—deeply—is this:
Home is where we pull ourselves back together.
Home is where we heal.
Home is where we recover from the world.
We can’t control everything out there.
We can’t fix what’s happening everywhere.
We can’t magically make life stop being intense.
But we can create an environment that supports us while we move through it.
Because when your home is chaotic, demanding, cluttered, draining…
it becomes one more thing that takes from you.
And when your home is calm, intentional, soothing, and set up for how you actually live…
it gives something back.
It doesn’t solve every problem.
But it helps you breathe again.
And for me—this is personal.
Because when my body feels heavy…
when I’m in pain…
when my energy disappears…
when I’m trying to be a mom, a wife, a business owner, a human…
home is where I comfort myself.
It’s where I exhale.
It’s where I soften.
It’s where I recharge enough to go back out and do it again.
And I want that for you too.
I’ve watched this happen with clients over and over:
The mom who feels like she’s holding the whole family together suddenly has one space that feels like it’s holding her.
The woman navigating illness or burnout finally has a home that isn’t fighting her every day.
The couple that’s been on edge starts feeling softer simply because their space stops triggering stress.
The person who “can’t relax” learns they actually can… they just needed a space built for nervous system calm.
And listen… I’m not saying a paint color fixes your life.
But I am saying the way your home feels matters more than we’ve been taught.
Because the world is loud.
And busy.
And demanding.
And honestly… a lot right now.
So if you’ve been wondering why I’ve been talking about tea and slow mornings and cozy spaces and “sanctuary”…
It’s because I’ve learned something I can’t un-know:
The home isn’t just where you live.
It’s where you recover from living.
And you deserve that.
You deserve a home that helps you carry what you’re carrying.
Even if you don’t know where to start.
Even if you think you “should” be able to power through.
Even if you’ve told yourself “it’s not that bad” for years.
Because this is not about perfection.
It’s about support.
And that’s what I’m here for.
And one more thing, because it matters today…

