Notes By Kae

Galentine’s Day isn’t about flowers, matching outfits, or curated brunch photos—at least not for me.

It’s about the women who hold me together in ways I don’t always realize until I stop and look back.

The truth is, my girls are vital to my mental health.

Not optional. Not extra. Vital.

It doesn’t matter whether your circle is big or small. What matters is that it’s solid. One real friend who shows up, listens without judgment, and knows your heart is worth more than a room full of people who don’t. These are the women who normalize you when life feels chaotic, who remind you that you’re not “too much,” not failing, not alone—just human.

Friendships between women don’t get enough credit.

They push us to be better. They bring joy into spaces that feel heavy. They hold space for growth, healing, laughter, and truth. They show up when we’re exhausted, overwhelmed, or unsure of ourselves—and they do it without needing anything in return.

And sometimes, friendships end.

That heartbreak is real and rarely talked about. Losing a friend can be one of the most painful experiences—because that person meant something. They knew versions of you. They shared seasons of your life. And grieving that loss is valid. Those relationships matter, even when they don’t last forever.

But then there are the friendships that stay.

The ones where a simple HomeGoods run or grocery trip turns into one of the best days ever. Where errands turn into therapy sessions, laughter turns into healing, and time passes without anyone noticing. The kind of friendships where nothing extravagant needs to happen for the moment to feel special.

My girls have become extended family.

They ground me when daily challenges try to pull me apart. They remind me who I am when responsibilities, stress, and survival mode make me forget. They give me safe spaces to vent, to laugh until my stomach hurts, to cry without explanation, and to exist without having to perform.

They also matter deeply to my kids.

They love them, show up for them, and become part of their memories. They help shape what my children see friendship, love, and support look like—and that means more to me than words can explain.

So this is my thank you.

Thank you for the endless belly-hurting laughs.

For the memories, the traditions we didn’t plan but somehow created.

For the new experiences, the late talks, the vent sessions, the reminders that joy still exists—even on hard days.

For pushing me forward when I felt stuck.

For loving me through seasons where I was learning to love myself again.

As women, we need to cherish these relationships. Protect them. Nurture them. Celebrate them—not just on Galentine’s Day, but always.

Because these friendships aren’t just beautiful.

They’re healing.

They’re grounding.

They’re life-giving.

And I’m endlessly grateful for mine. 💗