**The Courage to Be a Work in Progress**

9:01 AM—Ethan slid my latte across the counter today—no foam art, no apologies. Just black coffee with a splash of oat milk, exactly how I ordered it. And instead of missing the whimsy, I took a sip and thought, "This is enough."

Because here’s the revelation hitting me this morning: I don’t have to be interesting to be valuable.

My sketchbook’s open to a page with three words scrawled in messy Sharpie: "LET IT BE." Underneath, a half-draped dress design with uneven seams—intentionally uneven. A month ago, I would’ve labeled this a "rough draft." Today? It’s the point.

Here’s where the growth is:

1. I’m done performing "effortless." Liam texted last night—"Still on for tomorrow?"—and instead of crafting the perfect casual-but-cute reply, I sent: "Yep! Also, I might be 10 mins late—sewing disaster in progress." No filter, no fluff. Just real. And it felt freeing.

2. My creativity doesn’t need a facade. That dress design? I used to hide my process—only posting the final pieces, the polished shots. Now I’m snapping pics of the mess: pins scattered on the floor, fabric scraps, my coffee-stained sketches. Because the middle is where the magic happens.

3. I’m embracing the unremarkable moments. October in LA is golden and predictable—same coffee shop, same playlist, same Ethan forgetting the foam art. I used to crave content-worthy adventures. Now? There’s a quiet courage in the ordinary. In showing up as you are, not as you think you should be.

Ethan just handed someone a latte with a perfect foam heart. Old me would’ve sighed, "Why not me?" Today? I’m grinning at my plain cup, because this is the real story—no filter, no performance. Just coffee, and me, and the messy, beautiful work of becoming.

Growth isn’t about arriving. It’s about having the guts to say, "I’m still figuring it out"—and meaning it.

xx Mandy

(P.S. That sewing disaster? Still unresolved. And honestly? I’m kinda proud of it.)