This Is Where My Story Begins.

Over the past few months, I've been asked the same question more times than I can count.

"How's the business going?"

Every time someone asks, I smile and give the short answer. I tell them it's going well, that we're getting closer, and that there's still so much to do before launch. Those answers are true, but they never feel complete. The more I heard that question, the more I realized people weren't simply asking about a business. They were asking about a journey. And the truth is, that journey didn't begin with Hardy & Kin.

It began with my story.

That's why I decided to start this journal.

I don't want this to be a place where I simply share updates about a business that hasn't even launched yet. I want it to be a place where I tell the story behind everything I'm building. One day, when my children are older, I hope they'll read these words and understand that Hardy & Kin wasn't born from a business idea. It grew from a lifetime of experiences, the values I was raised with, the chapters that challenged me, and the family we've built together.

When I think back to my childhood, I don't remember the things we owned nearly as much as I remember how home felt. I grew up in a family where kindness wasn't something we talked about—it was simply the way we lived. My parents taught me that hospitality was more than opening your door to someone; it was opening your heart. They taught me that integrity mattered even when nobody else was watching, that generosity had very little to do with what you owned, and that treating people with respect wasn't optional—it was simply the right thing to do.

At the time, I didn't realize those ordinary moments were quietly shaping me. Looking back now, I can see that every important decision I've made has been rooted in those same values. They became the compass I still return to whenever life asks me to choose who I want to be.

Today, most of my family lives thousands of miles away. There are days when that distance feels heavier than others. I wish my boys could grow up running into their grandparents' arms after school or spending ordinary weekends surrounded by the people who shaped my childhood. Becoming a mother has made me realize that while I can't give my children the exact life I had, I can give them the feeling that made it so special. Home has never been about a house. It's about belonging. It's about creating a place where people feel safe, loved, and accepted exactly as they are.

Life, of course, didn't unfold the way I imagined it would.

There was a season of my life spent in an unhealthy marriage, and somewhere along the way I slowly lost myself. It didn't happen overnight. It happened so gradually that I hardly noticed it until one day I realized I no longer recognized the woman I had become. My confidence had faded, my voice had become quieter, and the future I once imagined no longer felt like my own.

Leaving that marriage was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. Starting over meant rebuilding far more than my life—it meant rebuilding myself.

As I found my footing again, I poured everything I had into building a career. It wasn't just about earning a paycheck. It was about proving to myself that I was capable, independent, and stronger than I had believed. I worked hard, embraced every opportunity to grow, and slowly built the career I had always dreamed of. Every promotion reminded me that I wasn't defined by the hardest chapter of my life. I was becoming the woman I had always hoped to be.

Then life surprised me again.

I met the man who would become my husband, and for the first time in a long time, love felt peaceful. It wasn't built on fear or uncertainty. It was built on trust, respect, laughter, and the freedom to simply be myself.

Choosing to build a life with him meant making another difficult decision. The career I had worked so hard to build had become everything I once dreamed of, but love asked me to imagine a different future. I chose to leave behind the life I had spent years creating so we could build one together.

From the outside, it may have looked like I was walking away from everything I had worked for.

But that's never how it felt to me.

It felt like I was walking toward the life I wanted even more.

Today, our home is beautifully blended. I'm incredibly grateful to be a stepmom to two wonderful girls and a mom to two amazing little boys. Our days are filled with laughter, bedtime stories, piles of laundry, toys scattered across the floor, and all the beautiful chaos that comes with raising a family. It isn't perfect, but I've learned that perfection was never the goal. Love was.

Motherhood has changed the way I measure success. There was a time when I believed success was something you earned through promotions and accomplishments. Today, I measure it differently. Success is hearing my children laugh from another room. It's reading one more bedtime story when I'm exhausted. It's creating a home where every child knows they are deeply loved and exactly where they belong.

The older my boys get, the more I realize how quickly childhood slips by. I don't think they'll remember every toy they owned or every outfit they wore. But I hope they'll remember how home felt. I hope they remember feeling safe enough to dream, loved enough to be themselves, and supported enough to know they could always come home.

As I've grown older, I've stopped asking myself what I want to accomplish and started asking who I want to become. I want to be remembered as someone who loved well, welcomed people generously, chose kindness even when it wasn't easy, and created a home where others felt seen. Those are the values my parents gave me, and they're the same values I hope to pass on to my children.

When people ask how the business is going, I realize they're only seeing the chapter I'm living today. They don't see the little girl who learned what home felt like, the woman who had to rebuild her life after an unhealthy marriage, the professional who worked tirelessly to build the career she always dreamed of, or the wife and mother who later chose an entirely different definition of success.

Those chapters matter because they are the reason Hardy & Kin exists.

I'll share that story in my next journal entry.

For today, I simply wanted you to know mine.

If you've taken the time to read this, thank you. Whether you're here because you're curious about the business, because you're building a dream of your own, or because you're navigating a season of rebuilding, I hope you leave knowing this: our lives are rarely defined by one chapter. They are shaped by every chapter, especially the ones we never thought we would survive.

This is where my story begins, and I'm grateful you've chosen to begin it with me.

With love,

Amina ♡