She Space began with my mother.

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After my brother died, my mother could no longer care for herself the way she once had, so I brought her into my home and cared for her. The room that is now She Space became her room.

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Almost a year after my brother’s death, my mother went into the hospital. She remained there for 53 days. When she finally came home, she died in her sleep that night in that room.

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For a long time, I could not simply clean the room out and move on. Her things were there. Her scent was still there. Her presence felt close. It took about a year before I was ready to begin changing the space. And even then, I did not want to erase her from it.

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So I started slowly. I created a closet because I love fashion. I added a futon because I still liked being in the room and wanted somewhere to sit, rest and talk to her. I added a movable desk because I found myself doing work there. The desk could roll away when I needed the room for conversation or recording.

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The room kept evolving. The clothing system changed. The furniture changed. The way I used the room changed. But the meaning of the room did not.

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It became my dressing room, and that felt right. I wore my mother’s heels as a little girl. Later, when she lived with me, I remember the look in her eyes when I would get dressed to go somewhere. She liked what she saw. The dressing room became an ode to her too.

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It became my office and my think tank. A place to work, plan, create and relax. A place where I could sit on one end of the futon and invite someone to sit on the other and have a real conversation.

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I placed photographs of the people I had lost alongside the life I was still building. My degrees and credentials are there too. My clothes are there. My microphone is there. My work is there. My memories are there.

That room began to show me something: a space can hold grief and still make room for joy. It can hold memory and still make room for something new. It can honor who you lost without requiring you to stop living.

Eventually, I realized that She Space could become the place from which I pulled together my education, leadership experience, creativity, voice, ability to teach, facilitate and nurture, and the lessons life had given me — and offer those gifts to other people.

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My mother was a nurturer. She took people in. She fed people. She housed people. She cared for people. I am my mother’s daughter. I carry that instinct forward in my own way: through teaching, leadership, conversation, consulting, facilitation, inspiration, creativity and service.