Heart Tears and Heart Songs

This year has been one of growth, heartbreak, and rediscovery. If you know me, you know I feel things deeply—whether it’s joy, pain, or those quiet moments in between when life feels both tender and raw. Sometimes, my heart sheds tears. Not just from sadness, but from the overwhelming beauty of feeling so deeply. These tears remind me of my capacity to love and to be loved, even when the story doesn’t end the way I hoped.

I spent much of this year leaning into love, giving it space to bloom. I was in two relationships, both of which began with promise and hope but ended in lessons I didn’t expect to learn. One taught me how to hold space for someone else's dreams while staying true to my own. The other taught me the importance of timing, of patience, and of letting go when the stress of "trying" outweighs the joy of "being."

Losing love hurts—there’s no getting around that. But as I sit with the quiet that follows, I’ve come to realize something beautiful: what’s meant for me will never pass me by. Love is not a fleeting thing. It doesn’t disappear forever just because a chapter closes. Love, in all its forms, has a way of circling back, finding you when you least expect it.

My daughters, Elle and Ava, remind me of this every day. Ava, with her resilience and quiet determination, has taught me that healing takes time and that even in our most broken places, there is strength. Elle, balancing the weight of life with grace, shows me that being yourself—fully and unapologetically—is the most beautiful way to live. Watching them navigate their own journeys gives me hope that I can do the same.

So here I am, learning to lean into my own heartsong—the rhythm that makes me, *me.* It’s a song I’ve spent years trying to hear, buried beneath the noise of self-doubt and perfectionism. But now, as I listen more closely, I can finally hear it. And you know what? It’s beautiful.

I’m worthy of love—not because I try harder or because I’m perfect, but because of who I am. This is the lesson I carry forward: to trust my heartsong and to believe that love will meet me where I am, whole and enough, exactly as I am.

To anyone who feels like they’re losing their rhythm, I hope you know that your heartsong is still there. Waiting for you. What’s for you won’t pass you. Trust that, and trust yourself.

Here’s to the next chapter—whatever it may hold.

With love,

Kandis