In Full Bloom
On seasons of life, planting with intention, and the harvest of who we truly are.
On my 44th birthday in May, I received a $5 coupon from Tractor Supply and eagerly bought a bag of wildflower seeds. At the register, I laughed and told the fresh-faced soul behind the counter that my 24-year-old self would never believe this version of me existed.
My 24-year-old self had decided there was more to life than the deep South. She packed two suitcases, took a job in Boston, and lived out of a hotel room until she found “her neighborhood.” I’m still proud of her. She believed in herself and built an incredible life in her 20s.
My 34-year-old self might have cozied up to the idea of planting seeds, but she had forgotten places like Tractor Supply even existed. She was weary, juggling babies, career demands, and the unrelenting pace of keeping up with the Joneses. She became lost in everyone else’s desires and concerns, forgetting to check in on her own. And I’m proud of her too. She navigated as best she could with what she knew at the time.
But here I am at 44. I made my way back South, planted myself in the countryside, and discovered that small-town life suits me. When I pulled the seed packets from my greenhouse, they carried more than wildflowers: they held love and loss, birth and death, divorce and growth, moves and milestones, lost friends and found ones. What bloomed this summer was a life in full bloom, the truest version of who I always knew I was. Exactly who my children, divinely chosen, deserve to have.
We all carry a greenhouse in our souls. The question is: what are you planting?
It’s easy to scatter seeds without thought—seeds of obligation, comparison, or what the world expects. But the true bounty comes when we pause to collect with intention:
🌱 Which seeds deserve tending?
🌱 Which belong to another season?
🌱 Which need to be let go altogether?
Cultivating your life isn’t about forcing growth; it’s about creating conditions where the right things can bloom. A little space, a little sunlight, a little faith.
So maybe it’s time to wander your own greenhouse. To decide what to nurture, what to prune, and what to let reseed on its own. To trust that the version of you that emerges, this season, this decade, is exactly the one who belongs here, now—fully in bloom.