There are some people who walk into your life and rearrange the furniture of your soul, leaving you forever changed. She was one of those people. The kind of girlfriend who knew every crack in my carefully constructed façade yet loved me all the more for it. She recently and abruptly died. Cancer. And I'm left realizing - she was my OG Boss Babe, the one who taught me how to slay just by being herself.
I remember when she turned 36. I was 24, and in my youthful arrogance, I thought to myself, Holy shit, she's old. I had no idea then that this "old" friend would become the bedrock of my life for nearly 30 years. She was the girlfriend who would do a happy dance if I loved something and kill it with fire if I hated it.
There was nothing I went through in three decades that she didn't witness, nothing too small or too monumental. When I was scrambling to make ends meet in college, she gave me a job. Let's say that I was more of a "house sitter" than a house cleaner, but she always let me slide. "That's Mae," she used to say - always accepting me for whichever version of me I was that day. Her boys were my babies, and my babies were hers. We built a family out of friendship and endless cups of tea and gluten-free muffins, held together by a love so fierce that I believed it would last forever.
She was my die-hard until the day we died, or at least until she did, taking some of my deepest secrets with her. She was my shelter, where I could run to when the world became too much. She was the shield that protected us, the one person outside of the picket fence who knew the truth happening inside—the abuse, the fear, the cracks that no one else saw. She never judged me. Not once. Instead, she held my hand and walked with me through the fire, never letting go.
She taught me what true friendship looks like in a world that's always trying to define us by our mistakes. It's messy, complicated, and fiercely loyal. She was the original boss babe, a woman who owned her life with unapologetic confidence and taught me to do the same.
Here's what I learned—and loved—from her:
Lesson #1: The Original Boss Babe
Before "boss babe" became a trendy hashtag, she was living it. She was the first woman I knew who owned her own business, and she did it with a style and confidence that was truly inspiring as a trailblazer in her industry. Her entrepreneurial spirit and hard work ethic made her a beacon of empowerment long before it was fashionable. She complimented women, rose up for what was right, and worked her ass off while still swearing to the day she died that her greatest accomplishments were her two boys.
Lesson #2: The Original Wine and Fries Girl
Over wine and fries or chips and guac, she'd make me laugh when I wanted to cry, and together, we'd solve the world's problems one gluten-free dessert at a time. Her ears heard the secrets I told no one. These moments were a testament to the power of female friendship. She taught me that sometimes, all you need is a good friend, maybe some bubbly, and a plate of fries to get through life's toughest moments.
Lesson #3: Intelligence, Beauty, and Signature Style - The Triple Threat
She was the total package—brains and beauty wrapped up in a Ralph Lauren ensemble. She made intelligence look sexy on a woman, not just in her tall stature draped in tailored wool cashmere but in the power behind her steel blue eyes that meant business. She taught me how to power dress and stand tall in a room while effortlessly intertwining between any conversation. Whether she was closing a business deal or helping me with a personal crisis, she did it all with grace and poise.
Lesson #4: Beauty is Self Love
She had an effortless beauty that came from self-love. She was an example that self-care isn't selfish; it's essential. Through her, I learned the art of indulgence—whether it was savoring a jelly-filled shortbread cookie from A Sweet Affair Bakery, booking a luxury spa weekend, or taking off on a solo trek to Machu Picchu. She taught me that loving yourself means treating your life like the most beautiful journey, one that you create and deserve to savor every moment of.
Lesson #5: The Ultimate Safe House
She was more than just a friend; she was a safe house. She knew the real me—the messy, imperfect, chaotic me—and she loved me anyway. My children called her Auntie, and my daughter became the little girl she never had. Her home was our refuge, a place where we could be ourselves without fear of judgment. In a harsh and unforgiving world, she was our sanctuary.
Lesson #6: Love Through It All
As I look back over the past 30 years, I am filled with gratitude to her… for never locking the front door, for being such a positive role model, for forcing me to look in the mirror when it was never easy, and for the countless conversations and memories we shared. Losing her was devastating, but her spirit lives on in the person she helped me become.
My dear friend, Katy Jo, rest and don't worry anymore, honey. We're going to be okay now.
Thank you for all you did for me and for us. Love you, girlfriend. I'll talk to you later. Bye.
Comments