It’s my Birthday month!
I sat in the middle of my apartment, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and the scent of vanilla lingering in the air. February had just arrived, my birth month, the month of love, the month of soft pinks and decadent chocolates. And yet, for the past five years, love; at least, the kind I desperately needed, had felt like an uninvited guest in my own life.
Not the romantic kind, not the kind that comes wrapped in red roses and whispered sweet nothings. I’m talking about the kind of love that gently kisses your forehead in the morning, reminding you to take a deep breath before the day sweeps you away. The kind of love that makes you pause when you sip your matcha, just to admire the swirls. The kind of love that turns the most ordinary moments into something cinematic.
I hadn’t been living that kind of love. Instead, I’d been surviving.
For years, I existed in a state of doing. Fixing, managing, making sure things weren’t falling apart. My body, always tense, always bracing. I was the glue holding everything together, except, somewhere along the way, I lost the pieces of myself.
At first, I thought I had built something beautiful. I had turned my passion for feminine wellness into a business, a brand, a mission. I had created something with meaning, something that should have felt fulfilling. But slowly, the thing that once gave me life became the very thing draining it from me. I was running a business, but I wasn’t living in my purpose anymore. I wasn’t nurturing it, I was just using it to survive. Paying the bills, keeping things afloat, moving through the motions with no real connection to the heart of why I started.
And in the moments when I wasn’t pouring into someone else’s cup, I realized, I didn’t even know where my cup was anymore.
That’s when it hit me: I didn’t want to just exist through my life. I wanted to romanticize it.
Not in a way that denies reality, because let’s be honest, the to-do lists will never truly disappear, and I’ll probably always be someone with a million ideas at once. But what if I could move through it all with a little more softness? What if, instead of constantly chasing the next thing, I let myself be in this moment? What if I started looking at my life the way I look at a well-written novel, finding beauty in the details, letting the story unfold instead of forcing it into another rushed chapter?
And so, Hello February was born. A love letter to myself. A declaration that, no matter where I am or what I have, I am choosing to move through life with wonder, with ease, with intention.
Because if life is going to happen anyway, if the seasons will change, if the years will pass, if the bills will still need to be paid, why not make it feel like something worth swooning over?
So this is the journey. A journey of falling in love with my life, over and over again. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a way to do the same.
⸻
UNTIL NEXT TIME, KEEP REWRITING THE STORY LIKE THE PLOT TWIST IS YOURS TO MAKE.
xo, Sophia Rose
