For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the go-to person for creating unique, one-of-a-kind designs. It started in my childhood bedroom, where I turned milk crates into Barbie dream houses, crafted clothes for my dolls from old rags, and made beds out of books wrapped in washcloths, complete with rolled ruffle socks as pillows. I even used those same milk crates to make bookshelves. Looking back, it feels like such a nostalgic piece of my childhood, right?

Over time, those small creations evolved into something bigger. People around me would say, “You should be an interior designer… a hair stylist… a fashion designer… a nurse… an architect… maybe even a carpenter!” I was always creating, always finding ways to be useful to those around me. Before I even had real dolls, I drew paper dolls and wrote poetry. Growing up, my siblings and I were blessed in many ways, but we also lacked a lot — and I adapted. My motto became “fake it ’til we make it,” and I poured my passion into arts and crafts, turning whatever we had into something beautiful.

But life doesn’t always follow the plans we imagine. I never could have predicted how much my passion would be shaken. When my son was tragically killed at just 10 years old, everything that once brought me joy — hobbies like styling hair, reading, and writing — felt impossible. The focus it took to enjoy those things was gone. My mind stayed in overdrive. I wanted to do so much, but I just couldn’t gather myself to do it.

I still struggle with that, even now. But during the pandemic — when the world slowed down and we were forced indoors — I rediscovered something I’d thought about for years: making jewelry. I started with two ideas in mind: creating chakra bracelets and waist beads. I studied the history, did my research, and began crafting. As I created, people started showing interest. That encouragement sparked something in me. It gave me hope.

A few local bead stores went out of business around the same time, offering huge discounts, and with tax season funds and a bit of impulsiveness, I dove in headfirst. Honestly? I lost my marbles — but in the best way! And you know what? I love it here.

Jewelry-making became my peace. It gave me something to hold onto when I needed a break from the ongoing pain of losing my child. It became my therapy. Whether I make a profit or spend more on materials than I ever earn, this passion keeps me going. It’s a way to create beauty from my heartbreak.

So, thank you for being here and supporting my journey. Now, let me go ahead and create your piece! 💎💕