Year of the Horse

I flew home last night from my friend reunion, one of those weekends where your heart feels full, your suitcase is a disaster, and you swear you’re going to drink a gallon of water and reorganize your entire life when you get back.
Spoiler: I did not reorganize anything.

I landed, grabbed my bags, and went to pick up dinner for me and my boyfriend, who had been watching Boots all weekend like the best person ever. I walked out of Eatzies feeling like I had my life together for exactly three minutes. I was going to go home, deep clean, eat my healthy dinner, and write this blog post (which I had planned to look verydifferent). But then… I lost my keys.

Like actually lost them.
Somewhere between checkout and the parking lot, they disappeared into another dimension.

Next thing I know, I’m standing next to my locked car holding my Eatzies bag, calling my boyfriend like, “Heyyyy… so… funny story… can you come get me?”

He had to pick me up AND our dinner, when I was trying to do a nice thing for him after he watched my dog all weekend. It was humbling in a way I can’t describe. I felt like the biggest disaster ever.

This morning I returned to face the situation like the mature adult I pretend to be. I walked into Mazda ready to conquer the day. Instead, I spent hours waiting, arguing with technology, pacing around the lobby, and Googling things like:

“Mazda key replacements?”
“Why so expensive???”
So with the help of my dad, we found a locksmith—
half the price of the wild number Mazda gave me for a new key. So we said, “Yes!”

Boots, loyal as ever, was in the car with me during the wait today. Just the two of us, stuck in a parked Mazda like we were filming our own reality TV show called Girl vs. Vehicle.

I kept thinking,
“This is ridiculous.”
Then immediately,
“This is so on-brand for my life.”

 
But Here’s Where It Gets Real
Somewhere between the flight, the lost keys, the boyfriend rescue, and the locksmith visit… I felt this weird sense of clarity. I decided I needed time to sit down and rewrite this blog post completely.

This past year, the Year of the Snake, has been full of shedding, discomfort, my own health scares, family stuff, emotional ups and downs, confusion, and growth that felt like stretching a rubber band to its limit.

It’s been a year of hard things. quiet struggles. Moments I didn’t talk about.
A lot like losing your keys: invisible from the outside, chaotic on the inside.

And now we’re stepping into the Year of the Horse, the year of motion, energy, getting unstuck, and finally running in the direction you’ve been preparing yourself for.

What happened these last 24 hours somehow felt symbolic:

Losing things
Finding things
Needing help
Starting over
Laughing at the absurdity
Realizing I’m stronger, softer, and wiser than before
 
So Here Is More of The Rowdy Story — The Real One
Rowdy didn’t come from everything going right.
Rowdy came from this: the chaos, the confusion, the moments that make no sense until later.

Rowdy came from:

growing up feeling different
hospital rooms and quiet fear
health struggles no one could see
always feeling “off rhythm”
trying to fit in a world not built for girls like me
wanting desperately to feel understood
learning to understand others deeply in the process
Rowdy is the brand I needed at 14, 18, and honestly even yesterday — stranded with Boots and my bag of Eatzies.

It’s for the girls who:

are working through things no one knows about
feel like their own type of glitch
have big hearts and deep feelings
were never meant to be watered-down versions of themselves
deserve to take up space
deserve to be seen
Rowdy is the reminder that authenticity matters more than anything —
that messy, real, imperfect people are the ones who shine the brightest.

 
So Here We Are Now: February.

My Month, My Shift, My Start Line.
February has always been my month.
It’s my birthday month, my love month, and this year it’s going to be my reset month.
This February feels especially important.

I’m stepping into the Year of the Horse with:

new momentum
a fire to create
a heart that’s softer but stronger
a brand that feels like purpose
and a certainty that everything I’ve lived through is building toward something
Even the lost keys.
Even the locksmith bill.
Even the chaos.

If anything, it feels like a reminder:

I’m ready to move.
I’m ready to grow.
I’m ready to build Rowdy into the space I’ve always needed, and the space so many of us are craving.

Year of the Horse: INS
Year of the Horse energy: movement, momentum, going after what I actually want
Rowdy authenticity: creating from the heart, not the algorithm
Slow mornings: coffee, light, breathing, grounding
Letting people help me (yes, even when I lose my keys)
Healthy routines: walking Boots, cooking, taking care of my body
Deep conversations: real connections, real feelings
Creative work: beads, color palettes, designs, storytelling
Being seen: showing up as myself, even on chaotic days
Soft strength: staying gentle without shrinking
Choosing joy on purpose
& OUTS
Doing everything alone
Trying to be “perfect” instead of honest
Feeling guilty for resting
Minimizing my own story
Ignoring my health or intuition
People-pleasing (we’re done with that)
Chaos without meaning: if it's chaotic, it better be symbolic
Shrinking my feelings
Forcing timelines: letting things unfold, not chase me
Anything that makes me feel less Rowdy

So here’s to February.
To love, to beginnings, to resilience, to Rowdy.
To Boots, who just wanted to go on a car ride with his head flying out the window.
And to the Year of the Horse, may it carry me exactly where I’m meant to go.