This summer I ran away. I actually ran "home". I took the kids to Maine for the weekend to hang out with friends I've had since elementary school. One to prove that I could. To myself. One to get away and breathe. Because these women have been my companions since 4th grade, whenever we are together, wherever that is, it feels like home. And the air is always clearer there.
This is the trip, I can say now, where I started to fall in love with myself again. To see my worth. To be willing to face the truth. I laughed, I cried and I started to heal. Even though I hadn't been truly shattered yet. I'm not sure I could have survived the following few weeks if this visit hadn't refilled my cup and loved me up so well.
While wandering around Portsmouth we went into Sea Bags Maine. There was a bag. A. Bag. And you lot know how I feel about bags. All blue hearts and one little red one. The favorite colors of my boys and the perfect representation of my 3 kiddos. I left it. It was pricey and I was trying to be good.
A few weeks later, the bag was hand delivered to me by my sweet friend. A gift from her and her sister. With a note full of such love and care and generosity that it still makes me cry. I carry it with me always.
Such an incredible reminder of how loved we are and how pivotal that weekend was for the House of KB.
And this is why I scoff when people say I sell jewelry. I don't. I sell transformation and love and empowerment and beauty. Wrapped up in a bracelet or necklace or ring. Or in a bag covered in hearts.