Jenna's Why...
For a long time, I didn’t have the words for what I was feeling. Mental health was something I struggled with long before I understood it. I became the person who made everyone laugh, the one cracking jokes, keeping things light, making sure no one ever had a reason to ask if I was okay. It was easier that way. Easier to hide what I didn’t know how to explain. But over time, I learned something I wish I knew earlier: it’s okay to not be okay. There’s strength in looking inward. There’s power in saying the hard things out loud. And when you allow yourself to be real, it doesn’t just change you...it permits other people to do the same. Life has a way of teaching you through the people you love.
There are a lot of reasons I started this brand, but two people are at the center of them all.
Ms. Kim is like a second mom to me. I grew up around her on and off the softball field and she’s one of the healthiest, most active, loving people I know. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, it didn’t make sense. Watching her go through that battle was one of the hardest things I’ve experienced, but also one of the most inspiring. She carried herself with strength, resilience, and grace and she won. What stayed with me wasn’t just her fight, but how she showed up every day. You would have never known what she was going through. She kept a smile on her face, embraced life fully, and never let her circumstances define her. She taught me something I’ll carry forever: That no matter what life puts in front of you, you don’t let it take away from who you are.
Jeffery, someone I’m lucky to call family, came into my life at a young age. He's the kind of man who would sit at the kids’ table just because I asked. He showed me a different kind of strength. The quiet kind. He was diagnosed with meningioma, and like Ms. Kim, he carried himself in a way that you would have never known something was wrong. He fought every day to get back to normalcy. Even in the hardest moments, he never let his situation take away who he was...steady, strong, and full of quiet resilience. Watching him taught me that strength isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s just choosing to keep going.
These experiences stayed with me. They shaped how I see people, how I show up for others, and how I understand the weight of the stories we all carry.
Because the truth is, everyone is carrying something.
So here’s my challenge to you: be real. Say the thing you’ve been holding in. Check in on someone, even if they seem okay. Be the person who listens and the person who speaks.
You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.
For Ms. Kim & Jeffery Allen.
Ethan's Why...
Growing up, I was always someone whom others came to confide in. Whether someone was going through a difficult family situation or felt left out, I always made time for the people around me. I was under the impression that I had it all figured out. I thought I understood my emotions and could help others navigate theirs, but I soon learned I wasn’t taking enough time to look after myself.
When it feels like everything is falling apart, don’t lose track of the present. Every day you wake up is a gift, and I've learned to find comfort in the things I can control.
There are a lot of reasons I started this brand. But there is one person at the center of it all.
My uncle Harry was the one the room waited for without knowing it. Avid outdoorsman. Hunter. Fisherman. Surfer. The family member who never forgot to wish you a happy birthday. Not once. When I was a senior in high school, I got the call that he had taken his own life. What I didn't know was that for most of his adult life, Harry had quietly battled bipolar disorder and depression. Someone who I loved and who I thought I understood, had been carrying a weight that was hidden to most. After losing him, I started listening differently. Every conversation became an opportunity — not to fix, not to advise, but to be present. I approached life with vulnerability, sharing about ways I'd struggled and my mindset on growth, and something shifted. People I'd known for years started to open up.
It turns out vulnerability is contagious. Honesty gives other people permission to be honest, too.
These days, I can look back on Harry's life and feel joy. That's a choice — one I make because I know it's the way he'd want me to live. His passing, alongside other experiences with mental health, has left me with an empathy I wouldn't trade for anything. Everyone carries scars. Most of us have just gotten too good at hiding them.
I challenge you to take the leap. Be the one who speaks first. Lead the conversation about the failure, the struggle, the lesson you learned the hard way. These experiences don't exist to keep us apart.
They're the bridge.
The brightest star in the room can't always shine alone. But together, we're a sky full of them.
For Harry.