Mermaid State of Mind

The word mermaid makes me light up inside...every single time.

It lands in my body like sunshine. Like saltwater on warm skin. It’s instant joy. So much so that my husband has me saved in his phone as Mermaid, and when he says it - when others say it - it feels less like a nickname and more like recognition. Like being called by something true.

I’ve been enamored of mermaids for as long as I can remember. I was nine years old when The Little Mermaid was released in 1989, and something in me stirred. The ocean. The longing. The beauty. The voice. The desire to belong somewhere vast, shimmering, and free. That movie didn’t convince me of anything - it awakened something I already felt deep inside.

There’s a photo of me around that age, wearing a mermaid costume my mom lovingly made by hand. When she made it, it felt like she was giving shape to something already alive inside me - like she was saying yes to the truest version of who I was meant to be. When I put it on, it felt like I was wearing my own skin - almost like it had been missing.  

In so many ways, I’ve been following that feeling ever since.

Life, of course, has grown fuller and more complex. It’s given me responsibility, leadership, ambition, and strength. I’ve built a career, carried weight, navigated wins that look impressive on paper, and survived seasons that reshaped me quietly and deeply. I’ve learned how to be decisive, resilient, grounded. How to stand steady when things felt uncertain.

But the enchantment never faded.

The mermaid never left.

She just learned how to swim deeper.

A few years ago, on Maui, I stepped into a mermaid tail for a photoshoot with one of my best girlfriends...sunlight dancing across the morning water, the ocean moving gently around us. Honoring that part of myself felt incredibly freeing. Less like dressing up, and more like allowing something true to resurface. Like giving myself permission to be playful again. To be expressive. To be fully me without filtering or restraint. There was a lightness in it, a sense of expansion that came from finally saying yes to something I’d carried quietly for years. It reminded me how powerful it can be to honor yourself. To let what’s inside you be seen.

Mermaids live between worlds.

Between land and sea.
Between strength and softness.
Between intuition and courage.

They may not be real in the literal sense...but what they evoke is. A way of moving through life that remains fluid. A reminder that strength doesn’t have to be sharp. That reality leaves room for imagination. That softness and depth can coexist. That you can be fully grounded and still touched by enchantment.

That symbolism has stayed with me.

I believe now that the things we’re drawn to again and again...especially the things that bring us uncomplicated joy...are meaningful. Not because they’re factual, but because they mirror something true within us.

My love of mermaids lives in meaning, not explanation. In feeling rather than fact. In the wonder they awaken, the freedom they reflect, the fluidity they invite me back to, and the quiet devotion to beauty and imagination that makes life feel more alive.

Magic doesn’t disappear when we grow up.
We simply learn to relate to it differently.

And I choose to keep space for it.

I am, and always have been, completely enamored of mermaids.

Because they remind me of who I am
when I feel most like myself.