A few weeks ago, we celebrated International Women’s Day. I saw the posts, the tributes, the rallying cries — and they were beautiful. But here in Canada, I watched them scroll by from under a blanket, still in my robe at noon, half-drunk on the last weeks of winter. I’ll be honest: I did not feel particularly radiant. I felt tired.

And I think that’s worth saying out loud — especially coming from someone whose entire work is built around feminine grace and self-possession. Because the truth is, winter asks something of us that no one quite talks about. It asks us to contract. To go inward. To manage the school lunches and the early darkness and the dry skin and the heating bills with as much dignity as we can muster.

“Elegance was never about being untouched by life. It is about how you choose to re-enter it.”

But here’s what I also know: spring is here. March 20th. The vernal equinox. The moment the light finally tips in our favour again. And every single year, without fail, something in me shifts — like a door opening somewhere deep inside the house.

As a wife and a mother, renewal rarely arrives as a grand gesture. It comes in smaller moments: switching out the heavy throw for a linen one, opening the bedroom window for the first time, choosing the dress instead of the jeans. These are not small acts. They are declarations. Tiny, deliberate signals to yourself that you are ready to be seen again.

IWD reminded us of how far women have come. Spring reminds us of who we are still becoming. The two feel connected to me this year more than ever — this sense that honouring womanhood isn’t a single day of noise, but a quiet, ongoing return to yourself.

So here is my gentle invitation, as we cross the threshold into this new season: let yourself be rejuvenated. Not through a dramatic overhaul, but through intention. Light a candle with a scent that excites you. Pull out something beautiful that you have been saving for “a special occasion” — darling, Thursday is a special occasion. Take a walk and let the early spring air remind you that things do, in fact, bloom again after long winters.

You have been carrying a great deal. You are allowed to put some of it down now. Spring says so.