It’s time to come clean. Fully. 100%.
Not just because I’m a soap maker, and we like it clean, but because the shadow work has been done and now is the time to reveal the honest to goodness truth.
Aster Earth was born of tears. It was a product of my broken heart. It was late nights of restlessness and racing mind that birthed tinkering, chemistry, formulas, blends, herbs, and life. It breathed purpose into me…at a time when I wasn’t sure who I was on any other level. I could create and that was something. The product of my creativity was healing for me and the people who used the soap. It was hope. It was a life line. It was me grasping to any sense of purpose I could find in a crazy existence, a crumbling foundation, an earthquake of all that I believed to be true, dissipating around me.
So here it is.
All the drive, all the aspiration, all the sparkle you see in me is from turmoil. Destruction. Dark spaces. Desperation. Pain. It’s from that sinking moment when you read a text that tells you everything you’ve suspected is true. From that space when the entire world feels like it’s in a vacuum and the floor is sinking and you’re not quite certain how that’s possible, but it is sinking and enveloping you in it. From the moment when you run to the couch and grab his dreads and pull his sleeping ass up and scream what the f*%k is this as you show him what you’ve seen.
Will never unsee. Will never forget. Will try to forgive and understand but fail.
A haze of baby earaches, stomach flus, sleepless nights, Hungry Little Caterpillar readings, tricycles indoors, dogs, gardening, the house, the cars, the Scottsdale life…I still maintained the picture. I kept it all beautiful for the children, you, and him.
my three star-seed children
their happy home
You see what I reveal. This is social media life. This is how so many of us function, dropper feeding you exactly what we want you to know about us.
It’s a charade. I’m over it.
I don’t want you to buy my soap because you think I have some perfect existence. I don’t want you to buy that lotion because I have gorgeous children (and I do). I don’t want you to buy that salve because I have a strong amazing marriage that inspires you. I don’t want you to give a fuck about my personal life because, honestly…it looks like a mess next to whatever made-up standard you'd like to compare it with. I want you to try my products and feel the love, the tears, the hope, the inspiration, the strength in them. I want the vibration to be so strong from my creations that nothing else compares to the healing you experience.
Nothing hums quite like Aster Earth. It’s polarizing.
I’ve pissed some of you off. I’ve reflected pieces of you that you thought were hidden so deeply. I’ve made you feel all towards me that you feel about yourself. Nothing compares to a woman’s broken heart. It’s so pure. It connects to generations of mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and beyond. Women who tolerated less than. Women who had no choice. Women who turned a blind eye. Women who were beaten. Women who were kept in a box, sometimes a pretty little box with a beautiful ribbon, but a box none-the-less. A fucking box. Women who had to wet-nurse children who weren’t their own; while their own children went hungry. Women who birthed babies in fields. Women who were beaten into submission. Women who were told they had nothing. Were nothing. Worth nothing. Women who were raped. Women who have endured, despite all the odds stacked against them.
You see when our heart truly breaks, shatters into a million inexplicable fragments. All the angels who walked before us come and collect the pieces. They don’t put them back together. They show the owner of the heart how to reconstruct and it makes you better, stronger, more capable, just as when their angels showed them.
I’m rebuilding. It’s messy. It hurts. It’s scary. It’s full of questions. It’s full of wtfs. People phasing out that you never expected. People showing up that were even more unexpected. It’s not elegant. Reconstruction. It’s full of dust, dark dirt, and uncertainty.
Through it all you’ve been there. Seeing me at a market, buying my products from one of the amazingly aligned retailers that carry Aster Earth, connecting, laughing, lifeing, just being and appreciating me being…me. This person I’ve been so blessed to discover in these years because of YOU and your support of this brand. This person I’ve rebuilt, from shattered pieces, fragments connected from the confidence of knowing I was making a difference. She’s better than before, cracks filled with gold dust kinda vibe.
Year 6. March 2020 is Year 6 of Aster Earth. I remember marching on to market grounds in that first year and feeling like such a rookie, completely intimidated, like I had no place. On show days when nothing was guaranteed after I left that space, I had no clue what was next in the process of my personal life…I’ve been met with your kindness and gratitude for what I created. It soothed me in ways I cannot explain, ways that let me know although the path wasn’t lit, it was certain.
Thank you. Thank you for seeing and feeling this movement. 2020 is full of some amazing happy days. I’m ready to share them with you, 100%, no veil, real life. Come ask me what you want to know. I want to share, in hopes that maybe just maybe I can bring you a piece of your heart in this wildly beautiful reconstruction process.