Seasons Change — and Sometimes We Change First

There comes a point in life when you realize that the season you’re standing in is no longer the one you’re meant to stay in.

Not because it was bad. Not because it failed. But because it served its purpose—and something in you has grown beyond it.

This season has brought change for me in more ways than one.

What began as Copper & Cocoa was rooted in a shared dream, shared time, and shared energy. Two working mamas showing up with full hearts, busy schedules, and creative hands. It was a good season—one filled with learning, growth, and something we built with care.

But as life does, our paths began to shift.

Schedules changed. Priorities shifted. Responsibilities grew heavier in different ways. Not better or worse—just different. And instead of forcing something to fit when it no longer flowed, we chose honesty, respect, and grace.

Copper continues to offer beautiful, handmade soaps and scrubs—crafted with the same quality and heart she’s always poured into her work.

And I’ve stepped into a new chapter with Cocoa Collective.

Here, I’ll still be creating handmade soaps and scrubs, but I’m also expanding into candles and specialty body butters—products made by my hands, in my time, shaped by the season I’m in now. Each product, whether hers or mine, remains unique, intentional, and handcrafted. Same roots. Different branches.

This change in business mirrors a deeper truth I’ve come to understand about life.

Sometimes, the biggest shifts don’t come from one single moment—but from a series of quiet realizations we wrestle with long before anyone else sees them. Sometimes we stay longer than we should. Sometimes we make choices that alter the direction of our lives. Sometimes we take paths that force change instead of gently inviting it.

And yes—our choices matter.

They can change our circumstances. They can change our relationships. They can change the seasons we find ourselves standing in.

But change doesn’t automatically mean destruction.

It can mean clarity. It can mean courage. It can mean finally telling the truth—to yourself first.

Life doesn’t come with a manual for how to exit a season gracefully. We’re all learning as we go. We stumble. We misstep. We make decisions that reshape everything we thought was stable. And once a shift happens, there’s no rewinding it—only choosing how you move forward.

What I’ve learned is this: growth often feels uncomfortable before it feels right.

There are seasons when you don’t have all the answers. When you can’t explain every choice. When you’re simply doing the best you can with the awareness you have in that moment. And while not every decision is perfect, every season still holds the opportunity to become wiser, gentler, and more honest.

This chapter isn’t about blame. It isn’t about bitterness. And it certainly isn’t about pretending everything is easy.

It’s about accepting that life evolves—and so do we.

So if you’re reading this while standing in the middle of your own transition—whether it’s a career change, a shift in a relationship, a side hustle becoming something new, or a version of yourself you’re quietly letting go of—know this:

You are not alone. You are not ruined. You are not finished.

Sometimes the road forward is forged by decisions we never thought we’d have to make. And sometimes the only thing we can do is keep moving, trusting that clarity will meet us along the way.

This season is about rebuilding—slowly, intentionally, and with grace. It’s about taking what I’ve learned, honoring what was, and creating something new with steady hands and a hopeful heart. Brick by brick, day by day, I’m choosing growth over guilt and trust over fear. And while rebuilding doesn’t always look neat or easy, it always leads somewhere meaningful.

The light doesn’t disappear just because the season changes.

It simply shows up differently.

— Cocoa