How Losing My Mother Brought Me Back to Myself | Part II
In the spring of 2024, I was a year post-graduation, having launched my virtual design business, yet struggling to define how, exactly, I wanted it to function and struggling to call myself a designer. I had zero clients, zero inquiries, and my social media accounts were all stagnant and unoriginal. After three years of schooling where all the answers came effortlessly, I was feeling my way through unchartered territories once again. What I’d hoped would be a fun and creative outlet—something I could do with my time outside of work that could eventually transition to my full-time focus—was instead beginning to feel like a waste of my time. I could see bits of what I wanted my business to be: heritage-inspired, using natural elements that would stand the test of time, with a focus on slower living—glimmering in the periphery, just out of reach. But each time I sat at my desk, trying and failing to force a way forward, I was left frustrated and in tears, ready to throw in the towel.
Instead of focusing on my business, my abilities and how I could do design differently, I watched other people on social media seemingly succeeding where I was failing. I gave in to those feelings of despair, and let comparison steal what joy I initially found in having my own design business. I stopped creating and stopped talking about design or my business, and I became increasingly annoyed whenever any of my friends, family or coworkers asked me how the business was or asked for my thoughts and opinions on their design decisions.
Once again, I found myself in a cycle of grief, as I let the idea of what I thought my design business should look like fade away. I worked on all the home projects I had started during semester breaks but hadn’t yet finished, and I focused on my internal world: dreaming of ways to make my home and my life as cozy & comforting and possible. I read books. I baked. I discovered I enjoyed the act of meal planning, creating shopping lists for recipes & grocery shopping. I learned how to make simple yet nutritious & delicious meals. The idea of building a life I didn’t need a vacation from became my motto. And slowly but surely, not only did the longing to design began to return, but so did the rest: the desire to start writing as well as a desire to return to my family history, research, and roots and most importantly, the desire to find ways to blend the three into one cohesive being. What I didn’t realize then was that a seed had been planted, roots were burrowing in the deep dark, and before long, a sprout would emerge to bask in the sunlight
Mid-summer, 2024, we were celebrating my partner’s birthday at our favorite local Irish pub when his mother, sharing family updates, casually mentioned that his uncle had recently traveled to Luxembourg to renew his passport. We sat in stunned silence, and I recall my partner holding up his hands like a “T”.
“Hold on — he did what? How?!”
His mother explained how his uncle had dual-citizenship through Luxembourg, based on their ancestry. After having traveled to Ireland in 2022, and, given the unprecedented political landscape the US was entering, we were both intrigued by the idea of moving abroad and living in the EU, but we didn’t have the means. This might be our window. Later that evening, my partner reached out to his uncle and, over the next few days, weeks, and months, the two chatted frequently on the process and my partner began his own journey toward dual-citizenship. He worked with the same company his uncle had used as they had laid most of the groundwork in documenting his Luxembourg ancestor, he only needed to submit documentation connecting him to their common ancestor: his grandmother. As we worked to track down all the required documents, and as we had dinner with his uncle where he shared all the family research that he had compiled, I felt that spark that had ignited months before, fan into a full-fledged inferno. The USB he gifted us contained so many wonderful photos and documents, letters and translations. I spent hours pouring over every folder, pointing out to my partner who was who in HIS family tree. I even spent an evening wandering the small town his ancestor was from on Google maps, scouring every street until I managed to locate the updated home where his ancestor was born before emigrating.
As my partner’s citizenship progressed through the various channels, and he received his letter confirming his reclamation status, we began to plan our trip. With the flights, hotel and rental car all booked, all that was left for us to do was devour travel videos and rough-out an itinerary. As we watched travel video after travel video, and thoughts of my mother became more frequent as I longed to share this all with her—this opportunity of a lifetime, our trip, our plans, my dreams and my concerns—the little sprout emerged and began to flourish. And suddenly, like I was jolted from a dream, I knew what I wanted to do with my business and how to bring the three aspects: design, writing and genealogy together.
When I look back, the signs were always there, obvious and blindingly bright. I grew up in an old farmhouse that had passed through several family generations. My mother and I used to dream our own versions of changes to the home: she wanted to expand and add a library with a primary suite on the second floor; At a young age, I learned the interior floor plan and wanted to connect the main floor bedroom to the bathroom to create an en suite with an exterior patio, accessible through windows that would be opened into French doors. And if I couldn’t have that, I wanted a Juliet balcony with a window seat off my second floor bedroom window. When I moved away after high school, I moved into what was her childhood bedroom and more design plans of a future that would never be in that home filled my dreams.
As a child, I’d sit in rapt attention on my grandfather’s lap, listening to him for hours, as he shared historic texts. I was forever fascinated by old family stories, flipping through photo albums, asking questions about who came before me, and wondering how those roots shaped who we are. To me, it’s all connected: where you come from, how you live, and what makes your space feel like home. I’ve always been drawn to experiences and places and people that feel layered with meaning, whether it’s from a worn piece of furniture, a wardrobe staple, or a tradition that’s been passed down and shared for generations.
“The past is not dead, it is living in us, and will be alive in the future which we are now helping to make.”
Once upon a time, what feels like a lifetime ago, I wrote a blog post about change on my genealogical-based blog. In what feels very cyclical, I was struggling to recognize what I wanted to accomplish with the space and, upon taking the time to sit and examine, I found I needed to return to my roots. Quite literally. While writing will forever be my deepest passion, it’s nearly always inspired by what I discover hiding among the foliage and branches of my family tree. My research, in turn, drives my desire to flesh out the story behind the names and the dates. What experiences did this person have? Who did they love? What did they dream? Why did they make the choices they made? And what were the influences behind their decisions?
While I may never know their true reasons, I’ve uncovered quite a bit, simply by studying the periods that they lived and the timeline that brought them to that specific place. It’s on the pages of my writing that my ancestors come back to life. Giving me—and my family— the opportunity to know the people who came before us, and perhaps, learn a lesson or two that we can apply to our own lives.
I believe the same can be said of our homes, our rituals, our lifestyles, even the way we move through the world should be reflections of our story, one that’s layered with memory, meaning, and beauty. Because it’s those stories we carry within us that can often provide the biggest answers to our future. If only we slow down and listen. Your home isn’t separate from your life, it’s shaped by it. The way you were raised, the stories you were told, the traditions you grew up with, the places and people who made you who you are. All of that influences how you want to live . . . even if you haven’t put it into words yet.
My goal now is to help inspire others to live intentionally whether it’s in designing a room, curating a wardrobe, or building a daily ritual in ways that feel personal and timeless.
If you’re feeling curious about your own family history and how you can translate that into your space, I'd love to meet you there.
I’ve created a free guide to help you begin your journey, THE HOMEWARD STUDY is an intentional workbook designed to help you reflect on your family history, cultural heritage, and the rhythms & rituals that have always felt grounding to you. This guide will help you uncover the things that actually matter to you, the traditions you want to carry on and the legacy you wish to reclaim. Click the image below to download yours today!
