This Is More Than Loss—It’s a Catalyst

My mother. Her brother. Both transitioned within a day of each other. I have to believe this was not coincidence yet something deeper.

What are the odds that Tiffani and I would walk through this emotional season in perfect sync while building 100 Healthy Women, a community rooted in healing, wholeness, and returning to the source?

How do you explain that kind of timing?
How do you name a moment like that?

It would be easy to call it irony. Or coincidence.
But nothing about it felt random.

Why? I’d say because we, alongside our tribe, are in the process of building 100 Healthy Women, a community devoted to healing, to returning to the root, to reclaiming the wellness that’s been stripped from our communities for generations. We’ve been calling women home to themselves. Inviting them to remember their bodies. Their lineage. Their wholeness.

And now, in the middle of this mission, we are being cracked open.
Not gently but divinely. I so believe this.

I believe in divine assignments. I believe grief can be a portal.
And I know without a doubt that this moment is more than pain.
It’s instruction.

We are being shown something.
That the healing we speak about isn’t theoretical.
That this work isn’t just professional, it’s deeply personal.
That we can’t hold space for women to move through loss and sickness and trauma and sadness unless we’ve tasted it, sat with it, and let it transform us.

This isn’t the kind of loss you “bounce back” from.
You integrate it. You listen to it. You let it shape your devotion. Because there was so much to what my mom and Tiffani’s brother endured in just a few short months of both being diagnosed with cancer.

There is a knowing I now carry in my bones that I didn’t before.
And I know my friend feels it too.
We’ve looked at each other, over text, through tears, and realized: God has something bigger planned. He has to.
This sickness our loved ones enudured must become a catalyst. Not just for usb but for the thousands of women we hope to serve.

We’re still building.
Still mourning.
Still anchoring into the belief that healing is not just possible it’s our birthright.

As we move through this sacred season, one of personal loss, quiet reflection, and deep reverence, we remain anchored in purpose and more devoted than ever to this movement.

This is what it means to heal in real time.
To show up messy.
To not have all the answers but still say:
“Come, let’s do this together. There’s so much work to do.”