Where did I come from?
In September 2018 I opened a crystal shop called Foxx and Luna. That same month I was newly engaged. By October I was married in a yoga studio with all four of my biological brothers in the same room for the first time as adults. By New Year's I was pregnant. We launched the shop somewhere in the middle of all of that because apparently that is just how we operate.
It started as a hobby. Crystals, sound healing bowls, books, journals. I self-published a journal about exploring your energy centers and illustrated a mandala coloring book for mindful living. We carried candles, incense, room sprays, tapestries, fairy statues. It was always changing, always adding something, always becoming more than it was the month before.
And then Atlas was born and everything shifted. He has some significant medical needs and being home became non-negotiable. The hobby became something we actually needed. Foxx and Luna grew because the situation required it to.
We closed in September 2022 when our second son Archer was born. Two kids, a marketing business that was picking up, and something had to give. The shop was the thing that gave.
Three years went by. A lot happened in those three years. Therapy. Inner work. Turning 38 and then 39 and starting to feel very different about who I am and what I actually want to spend my time on. The version of me who opened Foxx and Luna was in her late twenties, brand new to motherhood, drawn to everything light and sweet and magical in that very particular way you are when you are gaslighting yourself.
The version of me sitting here now is different. Not better or worse. Just different. More settled. Less interested in performing any particular version of myself.
Acadia was the name I had saved for a daughter. We have two sons, Atlas River and Archer Forest, and my body has made it pretty clear a third child is not happening even if some part of my soul has not fully accepted that yet. The name was just sitting there. It felt wrong to let it go unused.
So instead of a daughter, a business. A creative project that carries her name and gets to grow and change and be shaped by whoever is tending it. In a different way, she is still here. It’s weird how you can love and miss a person who never physically existed.
Thorne came from wanting something with edges. Foxx and Luna had none. Everything was soft and sweet and a little airy. Thorne felt honest. Something that grows wild and has texture and does not need to be pretty about it. Seven years of motherhood and a lot of hard seasons will do that to you.
Acadia Thorne opened in September 2025. Three Septembers. One to start, one to stop, one to come back.
The shop looks different now. Less overtly spiritual, less trendy, more like what I am actually into at almost forty. Suncatchers. Plant charms. Candles. Small whimsical things that exist because joy needs somewhere to land.
Foxx and Luna was about discovering magic. Acadia Thorne is about purposely inviting joy in.
