45: Gratitude, Grief, Legacy, and the Audacity to Keep Going
A deeply personal birthday reflection on loss, love, friendship, purpose, and the courage to continue building a meaningful life.
On my 45th birthday, I am reflecting on the beautiful tension between gratitude and grief. This deeply personal essay explores the loss of my mother and sister, the blessings of friendship and family, the launch of my third book, and what it means to keep building a meaningful legacy while carrying both joy and sorrow.
Today is my 45th birthday.
Forty-five.
Even writing those words feels surreal.
Birthdays have a way of inviting reflection. They ask us to pause and take stock of where we have been, what we have endured, what we have built, and who we are becoming.
This year, that reflection feels especially emotional.
As I sit in my bedroom with a glass of champagne in my hand and a slice of cake my sister lovingly dropped off last night, I am filled with gratitude, sadness, hope, and wonder.
Some of what I feel is joyful.
Some of it is painful.
All of it is real.
If you are here for honesty, stay with me.
This is not a polished or perfect journal entry.
It is a deeply personal reflection on grief, gratitude, legacy, and the audacity to keep going.
The First Feeling Is Gratitude
The very first thing I feel today is gratitude.
Gratitude for another year of life.
Gratitude for my journey.
Gratitude for the strength God has given me.
Gratitude for the resilience that has carried me through seasons I once thought would break me.
When I look back over my life, I am amazed by how much has happened.
And yet, in many ways, I still feel like the same young woman trying to find her place in the world.
I still feel like that shy and awkward girl who was trying to understand friendship, heartbreak, love, and who she was meant to become.
At 28, I had not yet started my business.
I had not written three books.
I had not spoken on stages around the world.
I was simply trying to figure out life.
And through all of it, there was one constant.
My mother.
She was my safe place.
My anchor.
My home.
I Am Still Just a Girl Who Misses Her Mother
Mother’s Day was two days ago.
And if I am being honest, it was incredibly difficult.
My mother passed away unexpectedly in 2020.
I was not ready.
I did not get to say goodbye.
I did not get to tell her everything I wanted to say.
People often say that grief becomes easier with time.
My experience has been very different.
In many ways, it feels harder.
Because the longer she is gone, the more milestones pass without her.
The more I want to hear her voice.
The more I want to call her.
The more I realize how deeply her love shaped every part of me.
Six years later, the grief still feels as raw as it did in 2020.
I am 45 years old, but I will always be just a girl who misses her mother.
And all of those Mother’s Day emails urging me to buy flowers and gifts felt like a knife to the chest.
Because if I could send my mother flowers, I would.
Without hesitation.
I wrote about this recently on Substack, but I believe brands and marketers must approach Mother’s Day with greater sensitivity.
For many people, it is one of the most emotionally difficult days of the year.
My Birthday Also Marks the Loss of My Sister
Birthdays are emotional for another reason.
On May 12, 2017, my older sister passed away.
Her loss changed me forever.
Sibling grief is rarely discussed, but it is unlike any other kind of loss.
It feels as though a part of your body is missing.
A part of your history disappears.
A part of your identity is altered forever.
For the past nine years, my birthday has held both joy and sorrow.
I wake up grateful to be alive.
And I also remember that this is the day my sister left this world.
That emotional tension is difficult to explain.
Celebration and mourning can exist in the same heart.
Joy and grief can sit at the same table.
And some years, that balance feels heavier than others.
I am learning to celebrate my life while honoring hers.
I am learning that feeling joy does not diminish love.
And I am learning that grief does not end.
It simply becomes part of who you are.
Amy Anaiz Photography
Despite Everything, I Feel Blessed
With everything I have shared, I still believe I am one of the most blessed people in the world.
Not because life has been easy.
Not because I have been spared hardship.
But because my life is filled with extraordinary love.
I have family and friends who show up for me.
I have relationships that have sustained me.
I have beautiful nieces and nephews around the world.
I have built a business and personal brand rooted in purpose, creativity, and meaning.
I have had opportunities that once felt impossible.
And I am living in the very work I was called to do.
That is a gift I never take for granted.
The Angels Who Walk With Me
I truly believe my mother, my sister, and my grandmother are watching over me.
I feel their presence often.
On my wrist, I have three butterfly tattoos in different sizes.
Each butterfly represents one of my angels.
Their physical presence may be gone, but their love remains.
Their influence remains.
Their legacy remains.
And I carry them with me every single day.
Reflecting on Legacy
This year has been filled with moments that have caused me to think deeply about legacy.
I had the honor of speaking at international conferences, including EWPC in Sardinia, where I spoke about scaling with intention and building something meaningful.
I also spoke at WIPA in Philadelphia and with Kindred Collective in Laguna Beach and Santa Fe.
At each event, I shared lessons about growth, courage, purpose, and what it means to take up space.
These conversations reminded me that we are not simply building businesses.
We are building lives that matter.
We are creating work that reflects our values.
We are shaping a legacy that will outlive us.
The Gift of My Third Book
One of the greatest blessings of this season has been the release of my third book, The Art of Celebrating.
This book is a labor of love and a reflection of everything I believe about gathering, hosting, and creating meaningful experiences.
Seeing it in the hands of readers around the world has been one of the most humbling experiences of my life.
I am deeply grateful to Rebecca Grinnals and Kathryn Arce for writing the foreword.
I am grateful to Amy Anaiz, the creative team, and everyone who helped bring this vision to life.
What a gift it is to share my heart with the world.
Friendship Is One of Life’s Greatest Blessings
Today, I spent hours on the phone with dear friends and family.
Some I speak with regularly.
Others I had not spoken to in some time.
Each conversation reminded me how fortunate I am to be surrounded by genuine love and support.
The first thing my sister/friend, Dami did when she called was to pray for me.
Friendship is one of life’s greatest blessings.
To be known.
To be loved.
To be celebrated.
To be supported.
That is a gift beyond measure.
I Believe the Best Is Still Ahead
I do not know exactly what the future holds.
But I know this with every part of me.
The best is still ahead.
There is more to build.
More to create.
More to share.
More lives to impact.
More joy to experience.
More love to give.
And more meaningful moments to celebrate.
At 45, I feel grateful.
I feel humbled.
I feel deeply loved.
I feel the ache of loss.
And I feel an undeniable sense that this next chapter will be extraordinary.
Amy Anaiz Photography
A Few Reminders for Anyone Who Needs Them Today
Grief and gratitude can exist at the same time.
You are allowed to celebrate while carrying sorrow.
Your story matters.
Your voice matters.
Your work matters.
You are worthy of taking up space.
The people you have lost continue to live through you.
The best chapters of your life may still be unwritten.
Final Thoughts
If you are reading this, thank you.
Thank you for your support.
Thank you for your encouragement.
Thank you for being part of this journey.
And if you are navigating your own mix of joy and grief, I hope you know you are not alone.
Today, I am celebrating 45 years of life.
Forty-five years of love.
Forty-five years of lessons.
Forty-five years of resilience.
Forty-five years of becoming.
And by the grace of God, I believe this is only the beginning.
With love,
Akeshi
Live beautifully. On purpose.
