I’ve always loved being in the sunshine—whether floating in a pool or sipping an ice-cold matcha on a breezy day. To me, the sun is a luxury, one that I want to soak in daily.
When I had my first miscarriage in 2022, I sank into a deep depression. It was a cold, snowy day in Colorado when I left the hospital after delivering my 16-week-old baby girl. I remember sitting in silence, staring out the window, feeling completely empty. Then, suddenly, the sun broke through the clouds and warmed my skin. In that moment, I felt her. I felt God. I felt this quiet reassurance that, somehow, I would be okay—eventually.