When the Work Feels Heavy...

Remember Joy, Know Peace

Brooklyn Peonies, Alex Elle, 2025

Some days, it feels like you're holding up the sky for everyone.

You're the one who sees what others have learned to ignore. You're the one who names what's not spoken aloud. You're the one who desires to stop the cycle—even when it shakes the ground or rocks the boat. You choose discomfort over denial, rest over resentment, and clarity over chaos. That choice is not easy, but it's holy. Those who come after you depend on your healing.

I've learned along the way that being chosen to disrupt long-standing cycles—cycles others stay in out of fear or comfort—isn’t about perfection. It’s about courage. Being called to lead isn’t something you can avoid. It's something you’re meant to face head-on.

A few years ago, I made a sweatshirt that said Matriarch of Healing—a wearable reminder for those of us doing the deep, often invisible work of breaking generational patterns and choosing a different path. I made it for the ones who carry what their mothers couldn’t name, who are raising children while reparenting themselves, who are learning to choose softness without self-abandonment.

What surprised me most was how quickly it resonated. People didn’t just wear it—they felt seen by it. I received messages from women across generations who said it put words to what they’d been living through but hadn’t named: the weight, the honor, the sacred responsibility of choosing healing, again and again. It reminded them that the work they were doing mattered—even when it went unnoticed.

I relaunched the Matriarch of Healing sweatshirt this month, featuring a new hand-lettered script by my sister-friend

Josefina H

of Love Offering. I wore it out a few days later—and something unexpected happened. A woman stopped me, eyes brimming with tears.

"Thank you," she said, her voice shaky. "I needed to read that."

For a moment, I was confused. Then she glanced down at my sweatshirt.

“Oh,” I said, catching on. “You mean this.” I smiled. “You’re so welcome. I’m glad it spoke to you.”

She nodded, gently patted my arm, and walked away—no other words needed.

That moment reminded me why I made it in the first place—sometimes, the right words on the right day can feel like a lifeline. Being the Matriarch of Healing is sacred. It’s a calling to choose (and work) toward creating a new lineage rooted in peace, even when chaos once felt like home.

The deeper I go in my healing, the more I understand that peace isn’t always as tender as a stranger with tears in her eyes. Sometimes, it looks like quiet rage reshaped into steady resolve. It’s speaking a hard truth you once swallowed. It’s choosing rest when the world demands performance. It’s learning to trust stillness, even when longing for a distraction. This path isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence. About showing up, even when you’re weary. About staying rooted, even when everything in you wants to run.

Held, Alex Elle, 2025

Every time you choose to break a cycle, to soften without shrinking, to lead with truth instead of silence—you are not just healing yourself. You are laying the foundation for generations to come. That’s the legacy. That’s the work. And it’s worth every step.

There will be days when you feel like you're carrying the weight of everyone else's load. Days when it feels easier to retreat and betray your truth so that you don’t rock the boat. But please don't forget this:

Your courage to heal, change, and grow is not in vain. Your consistency is breaking chains, even if no one claps for you, gets it, or stands next to you.

For all of us healing, especially my fellow woman—you're not just healing for yourself. You're showing what's possible. You're modeling freedom in real-time—for your children, your community, your future lineage. You're planting seeds for the generations after you. They will grow in softer soil because of your choice to heal. They will stand on the fertile ground that you watered with your tears and your brave decisions. And when it gets hard, I hope you remember that you are not failing. You're forging.

Forging a new path. Forging a new legacy. Creating a healthy emotional inheritance.

You are creating a way ahead where love, joy, and peace are radically chosen, not performed. Where softness is strength, not weakness. Where truth and tenderness bring you back home to yourself.

Worth a Try, Alex Elle, 2025

Let that be your anchor. Let your becoming tether you to the light when the shadows stretch long. Joy doesn't mean the absence of pain. I've said this so many times before. It means you're still reaching for something beautiful, even in the midst of the hard, heavy, and, at times, the unbearable.

Joy reminds you of what you're fighting for. Peace welcomes you to the present moment.

Both are an invitation to remember that "the work" may not always be seen, but it is felt. It echoes in the lives of those you share space with and those who’ll follow your footsteps one day. I pray you know that matters and will move mountains in your lineage.

---

Gratitude Journal is a free community newsletter. If you'd like to support my work, please consider subscribing and sharing. If you’re looking to monetarily support, buying my books, merch, or joining me at a retreat or workshop are options. I even made two perfumes and a candle for us! I have plenty of offerings for you to choose from. I'm grateful for your support in whatever capacity.