Through the Looking Glass at 35: Reflections, Glitter, and Grit

Today, I turn 35. If that feels like crossing through a mirror into a new realm—one painted with both gleam and shadow—you aren’t wrong. Birthdays invite reflection, and this year, there's a lot to hold: sobriety, chronic pain, surgery, business, and above all, the patient magic of growing into myself.

The Journey to Sobriety

The biggest turning point in my journey came in 2022, not during a thunderclap of triumph, but in the slow churn of illness and exhaustion. I was stuck in uncertainty, grappling with pain and a medical puzzle that no one could quite solve. Yet in the midst of that rough patch, something unexpected sprouted: the seed that became Alphanie Artistry. Starting my business wasn’t just a distraction—it was a lifeline, a reason to keep going when days felt hazy and progress was hard to measure. The dual challenge of recovery and entrepreneurship taught me a surprising truth: resilience doesn’t look like victory laps. It looks like stubborn, gentle tending—a little creativity, a lot of hope, and showing up for myself when there’s no clear map.

Relearning My Days

Through chronic pain and post-surgery haze, I’ve found clarity in new routines—although, at first, it was hard to see. There were moments when remembering each day, or even noticing progress, felt impossible. Now, every clear day is a small celebration. Being able to recall my days is a gentle sort of power. It gives me direction and motivation, a way to look back and say, “See? I’ve grown here. I’ve moved forward”.

Learning to Advocate

Navigating the medical system was exhausting—an odyssey threaded with doubt and a desperate need to be believed. Advocacy became survival, not just for myself, but for others too. Finally being heard wasn’t instant or easy, but when it happened, it proved to me that not giving up is its own kind of superpower. It shaped my approach to helping others: listen deeply, hold space, and remind everyone (including myself) that we are worth the fight for our own care and comfort.

Sparkle, Grief, and Belonging

Perhaps the most surprising discovery, through grief and glitter and all the strange beauty of this path, is how much I value inclusion and empathy. These qualities aren’t just “nice”—they’re the heartbeat of my work, my art, and my way of being in the world. Creating wonderlands—at my booth, in a painted teapot, a handful of face gems, a tarot card reading—is all about building spaces where everyone feels welcome and seen. The brightness only means something because I remember the dark.

The Heart of It: Patience

If I could offer one lesson—one handmade piece of wisdom for anyone else on a path like this—it’s patience. Healing, creativity, and clarity come on their own stubborn timelines. Progress is real, even when invisible. Magic grows quietly, and patience, with time, blooms into something stronger and kinder than I ever expected.

Happy birthday to the version of me who keeps going. And to anyone reading who’s still moving forward, thank you—for walking the wonderland path with me.