Meet Austin, My Little Brother.

He stood by my side when my mental health crashed and burned, when everything felt like it was falling apart inside me. In those darkest moments when I was barely holding on but still was learning how to share it, he didn’t turn away. He stayed. He listened without judgment. But more importantly he always knew how to just be there, we didn’t always need to talk about it. He never pushed, he just supported. He cheered me on when I started to heal, even on days I doubted I could.

It’s because of that unwavering support that I’ve been able to turn pain into purpose and chaos into something beautiful. Writing this blog, sharing my story, and finding my voice, it all feels like a tribute to the strength he played a part in helping me find when I couldn’t see it myself. My relationship with Austin is something that no mater what, I know I got right.

Up until this point I haven’t expressed feelings, or shown much emotion about him leaving. It’s not because I have none, it’s because that’s what I do! I thrive being the strong unwavering support system, I am happy to be that person for him. I cherish it.

But at his going away party last weekend I was asked a few times how I was doing with it, and my answer was always “ah I just don’t talk about it.” and I realized it was probably time.

So, it only seems right to send you off the best way I know how… with words.

Here’s To You Bud, On Your Next Big Adventue.

You stuck around for me when life chewed us up and spit us out.
You stood beside me when things got messy, when things got heavy, and when I needed someone who just got it.

I’ve been writing this for weeks, guess you could say I’ve been avoiding it. Because honestly, how do I put into words what it feels like to let your little brother go, when part of you still wants to hold on tight? What do I even say?

But here’s the thing—
I admire the hell out of the person you are.
Not just what you’ve survived, but the way you love, the way you show up, the way you live.

I respect your reasons for leaving. I see the growth you're chasing, and I believe in the life you're working to build.

I hate that you're leaving.
But more than anything, I want for you what you want for yourself.

And if that means cheering you on from a distance—I’ll do it, every time.

I’m going to miss the hell out of you. 

I’ll miss the comfort of your presence, the kind of connection we have developed that doesn’t always need words.
Because that’s what happens when you grow through life together. Hard shit together.
You start to speak in glances and giggles, eye-rolls, and shared history.

You’ve never been anything but pure, genuine support to me, exactly as I am. Through so many things. Big and small.
You've helped me find strength in my voice, even when I forgot it was there. When my self-worth was zero, you saw it for me.

You will always be a giant part of my heart and soul.

My daughter was born on your birthday, how lucky am I that two of the most special people in my world share a day? It feels like the universe tied a little string between you two. A connection that will never be undone.

You know that saying “If you love them, let them go” - well I get it now.

It’s been one of my greatest joys to walk through life as your sister. And don’t think I’ll be stopping now. I can’t wait to hear about absolutely everything.

And it is an absolute honor to watch you be the world’s best uncle to my kids.

So go.
Chase it all.
Build the life you dream of.
And don’t forget—your biggest fans will be right here. Always.

Love always,
Your Jess