Letter From the Editor

One whole month of 13 Fridays. 

To say I am grateful would be a vast understatement. 

I’m over the moon with the love, support, and shared stories that have poured in since 13 Fridays took its first breath. It’s still in its early stages, and I’m definitely feeling the growing pains, but I feel more whole. As a business owner. As a mom. As me. 

Before launching on July 1st, I had plan after plan, color-coded content calendars, product drops, blog posts, stunning photoshoots, weekly Reels, you name it. I pulled from everything I learned in the corporate world: online merchandising, storytelling, marketing, and built a website I was proud of.

But like it always does… life happened.

And I found myself caught in the spiral of self-doubt. Negative self talk.
The plans didn’t all happen. The posts didn’t all go live. I felt hopeless at some moments, especially the days that I had a lot to do and of course those were the days that our baby decided naps were not in her morning or afternoon agenda.
And that voice crept in: You’re falling behind. You’re not doing enough.

But…

I kept going.

Because those hard moments? That messiness? That’s the heartbeat of 13 Fridays.
It’s not about getting it all done, it’s about showing up when it feels hard. It’s about building something real in the middle of real life. Because real life right now? It’s loud and chaotic and… beautiful. But it’s also bittersweet.

And somewhere in the midst of that chaos, I started noticing something else, the overlap between the growing pains of this business and the quiet ache of time moving too quickly in motherhood. (Is anyone else quietly dreading that first birthday?)

That ache opened something deeper. Not just about running a business while mothering, but about motherhood itself. Gone are the days of scrunched newborn yawns and buttery-soft snuggles. Now we’re in the screeching dinosaur phase. 

My little baby dinosaur.

I started asking myself questions I didn’t think I’d be asking so soon. Like, what if I don’t want more children?

What if, like this brand, like this season, I’m allowed to feel fulfilled in what I already have, even if it doesn’t fit everyone else’s expectations?

While my heart is bursting with love for this happy, healthy, incredible girl… a part of me aches. I just want to bottle this time up. Press pause. Like I have to every time we try to watch TV at night between a baby and three crazy pups. Hold onto every late-night snuggle, every soft sigh, feel every tiny toe. Her toes that now feel the ground beneath her. The ground that empowers her to bloom, to blossom into greatness. The ground that dares her to try new things, and be fearless. 

But, despite the desire to press pause, right now, I feel fulfilled with one. Maybe that will change. Maybe not. I don’t feel the need to have more children just to meet someone else’s idea of what a “real” family looks like. To check an imaginary box.

I’ve shared openly about my prepartum depression, how it cracked me open and led me here. To this business. To this healing. To the realization that honoring my limits is a strength, not a flaw. And still, I hear it all:

“She’ll be lonely.”
“You can’t have just one! Imagine family vacations!”
“She’ll be spoiled. A brat.”
“You’ll regret it when she leaves for college.”

These comments pile up like laundry I don’t have time to fold. And they come even after I’ve been open about my struggles with prepartum depression, the same struggles that gave me the fire to start 13 Fridays in the first place. 

I want to scream: My daughter deserves a mother who feels like herself. Not pregnant. Not drained. Not lost. Just… me. Whole. Present. Capable of joy.

And what stings the most?
Most of the “you can’t have just one” crowd… are other women. Other moms.

Why are we like this to each other? Why do we try to pull one another down instead of lifting each other up?

Why do we meet vulnerability with warnings? Why do we offer fear instead of empathy?

Let’s rewrite that.

Be softer.
Be kinder.
Be the voice that says: You’re doing enough.

All of that to say, maybe the greatest gift this first month has given me isn’t just a brand, it’s a mirror.

A reminder that showing up imperfectly, honestly, and wholeheartedly… is more than enough.

13 Fridays was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to be real. It’s for the women figuring it out as they go. The moms finding themselves again while raising someone new. The ones who want to feel beautiful, seen, and whole, even in the chaos

I suppose this letter is a thank you. 
To you.
To the first messy, magical month.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for supporting this vision. I can’t wait to grow together.

With so many hugs,

Maddie