I’ve spent over a decade working in social media—building voices for other people, telling other people’s stories, creating content that aligned with someone else’s mission, their brand, their vision. And while I’m so grateful for everything I’ve learned in that time, I started to feel like I was vanishing a bit behind it all.

It’s a strange thing when your job is being creative for a living. You start to forget what your own voice sounds like. You wonder if you even have one that matters. Somewhere between deadlines and client meetings and analytics reports, I started asking myself: Is this it? Is this what I want the rest of my life to look like?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was meant to be doing something a little different. Not bigger, not better—just…truer.

For years, I talked about starting something of my own. A blog, an Instagram account, a brand that reflected who I really am—the traditional design I love, the joyful mess of family life, the reverence I feel for old homes and simple moments. But talking about it and actually doing it felt like two very different things. I hesitated. I second-guessed. I wondered what people would think. I still do.

But then, last year, I finally hit “publish.” I launched the website. I posted the first photo. And my best friend sent me a message that I’ll never forget. She told me how proud she was that I put myself out there. She said the first step is always the hardest.

She was right.

Love of Luverne wasn’t just a creative outlet—it was a step toward courage. It was me finally doing something for me. It was me saying, I want to live a life that feels like mine.

In the process, I started to remember what actually matters to me. My home. My family. The memories we’re making inside these four walls, even when they’re covered in snack crumbs and Play-Doh. I started paying more attention to light patterns on the wood floors, to the sound of laughter coming from the backyard, to the way our dog flattens all the throw pillows and somehow makes the house feel more alive.

I won’t pretend I’ve figured it all out. I still worry too much about what people think. I still have days where I wonder if I’m doing any of this right. But I know this: I’d rather be living a life I’ve chosen than standing on the sidelines critiquing someone else’s.

Thank you for being here. For following along for almost a full year of Love of Luverne. For reading these thoughts and stories and moments that matter so much to me. It means more than you’ll ever know.

All my love,

—Lauren