March and April were a whirlwind for saymore—two live events, two more on-demand events coming soon, and one overwhelmed founder (hi). It was the kind of month that reminds you what you’re capable of—and also humbles you real fast.

It was such a busy time, and an anticipated time that I was so proud of. When we hosted our Women and Miscarriage event in NYC last fall, I felt it in my bones: this is the work I want to do. Real people. Real conversations. In real time. That’s where the magic is.

This spring, we wanted to take that same energy and bring it to our broader community—wherever they are. There was an urgency to it. Every topic we picked felt equally vital, timely, and necessary to tackle. These weren’t just content ideas or marketing themes—they were real conversations that needed a place to land. We leaned into virtual events to meet more people where they are and to capture more nuanced, sensitive, and deeply needed conversations. Topics that don’t often get the attention they deserve in glossy wellness spaces.

What I didn’t fully prepare for—despite all the planning and spreadsheets—was how much these events would impact me on a personal level. I’m an empath by nature, and what that means is that when people open up, I don’t just hear their stories—I feel them. I carry them around with me for a while. And this past month, I carried it all.

Each event was intimate in its own way. People were brave. They showed up with their full selves, sometimes with pain still fresh, sometimes with clarity that only comes from having lived through it. And after every session, whether it was a panelist sharing something deeply personal or someone in the audience speaking up in the live chat, I sat with it all.

I found myself processing long after the screen went dark. I was overwhelmed, yes—but not in a negative way. Overwhelmed by how honest people were willing to be. How much trust they placed in saymore, in each other, in the space we created. It’s no small thing to tell the truth in public. Especially about topics like imperfect parenting and life-long depression. These are things we’re taught to quietly survive, not share.

After every single event, I felt this wave of pride—not just in what we’d pulled off logistically, but in the kind of community we’re attracting. I kept thinking: These are the people I want to build with. People who aren’t pretending to have it all figured out. People who are curious, kind, and deeply human. Whether they were panelists, audience members, or folks just tuning in and holding space quietly from behind their screens—it all mattered.

Each of these conversations was special in its own way:

• The Influencer and Social Media round table—raw, honest, and hilarious with the young influencers themselves speaking about the good that they’ve built from the internet!
• A candid talk on the mental health of young adults and the parents who love them - a real life therapy session that made us laugh and cry!
• Coming soon, ADHD and Women: Relationships edition. We always talk about school and work with regard to ADHD but what about our platonic and romantic relationships, I promise you’ll come away giggling with this group!

After the last couple of months, I’m tired—but also clear. Clear on the importance of this work. Clear on the kind of community we’re building. Clear on how powerful it is to hold space for one another, even when it’s heavy.

May is a time to slow down—not to stop, but to soften. To integrate everything that’s unfolded. To stay grounded in why this matters, and to remind ourselves that creating space for others also means creating space for ourselves. The work continues, but so does the care.

Thanks for being part of this.

If you attended any of our events in March/April, we want to know—did you feel seen? What do you want more of? Let’s keep the momentum and make this space yours as much as it is ours.