July 14, 2025
Under Pressure, We Shine
The other night, I watched LIFE, a Netflix comedy special by Andrew Schulz, where he shares his and his wife’s fertility journey. It was sharp, hilarious, a little crass—but beneath it all, there was something else. Lightness. Hope. It left me realizing that to find, or even better, to offer humor in dark times is a kind of magic. A skill I deeply admire and hope to embody.
Because the truth is, we all face struggles. Moments that feel like they might break us. And yet, if we let them, they don’t just break us down—they break us open. We reach for comfort, for understanding, for the steady embrace of community. But when I think back to my own hardest days, the thing that has often caught me off guard—like a small miracle—is laughter. The way pain, given time and distance, can shape-shift into something lighter. How the things that once made us weep can, one day, make us laugh. And the things that once made us laugh can, in another moment, bring us to tears. That’s the paradox of it all. Joy and sorrow, light and dark, struggle and beauty—they are never separate. They belong to each other.
But when you’re in it, it’s impossible to see. The weight of it—the grief, the waiting, the uncertainty—feels like too much. Like pressure closing in from all sides. But pressure isn’t just something that crushes; it’s also what creates. Diamonds, the most brilliant and coveted stones, only form under immense heat and time. Without it, they wouldn’t exist. And maybe we are the same. Maybe the hardest moments aren’t just breaking us; they’re shaping us—into something stronger, something brighter, something capable of catching and reflecting light.
That idea—the beauty of becoming through struggle, of shining brighter after hardship—is the heart of the collection TRANSCEND. It’s designed to honor the journey of overcoming, the grace of transformation, and the courage to take new shape—closer and closer to who we truly are at our core. Like diamonds, we emerge from pressure not just intact, but radiant.
And maybe that’s why laughter, even in the heaviest moments, feels like a kind of release—like air finding its way into a room that’s been shut too long. It doesn’t erase the struggle, but it reminds us that we’re still here, still breathing. That even under pressure, we are not only enduring—we are becoming. And in that becoming, there is room for both the weight of what we carry and the lightness that lifts us.
Because lightness—of spirit and heart—doesn’t just lift us, it transforms how we move through the world. It gives us the strength to face what feels unendurable, to soften the weight of our burdens. That’s why I value the people who make me laugh—not because they ignore the hard things, but because they show me a different way to hold them. And the friends I hold closest are the ones who understand that sometimes laughter and tears go hand in hand.
We often search for light outside of ourselves, not realizing that it’s always been within. When we let it shine—through humor, through love, through grace—it doesn’t just illuminate our path. It lights the way for others too.