There’s a shift happening behind the scenes — something soft, something honest, something that’s been growing quietly beneath the soil for months.
I’ve been tending to it slowly, carefully, like a wildflower that needs a different kind of sunlight.
And now, it’s nearly ready to bloom.
The truth is, I’ve outgrown the container I’ve been writing from.
Beautiful as it was, it no longer held all the parts of my story — the motherhood, the disability advocacy, the identity shifts, the emotional unraveling, the rebuild, the feminine softness, the homemaking rituals, the quiet healing, the parts of me I had tucked away for years.
There’s a new season coming.
A new name.
A new home for the stories I want to tell.
But before I reveal what’s next, I want to say this:
Nothing is being erased.
Not our journey.
Not the roots of why I began writing in the first place.
Not the disability-informed lens that shaped so much of my motherhood.
If anything, this change allows me to honor it even more honestly — while giving my daughter the autonomy and privacy she deserves as she grows into her own person.
For years, The Princess and the Prosthetic has been the home for our family’s story.
A place to share the victories, the heartbreaks, the advocacy, the resilience, the magic, and the messy middle of disability parenting.
Watching my daughter grow into herself.
Growing into myself alongside her.
And realizing that the story of this space — the story we’ve built together — is gently evolving too.
It has been beautiful.
It has been vulnerable.
It has been healing.
And it has been an honor.
But as Callie gets older, we’re becoming more mindful about what parts of our life belong to the world — and what parts should stay hers. She deserves privacy. Autonomy. The freedom to step into her teenage years and figure out her own voice.
She deserves space to decide what feels authentic to her.
So the storytelling here is shifting…
Not disappearing.
Not diluting.
Just changing shape.
Disability will always be part of this space — because it’s part of who we are.
But now, the lens is widening.
Over the past few years, I’ve found myself writing more about:
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the emotional load of motherhood
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gentle wellness
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the nervous system
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intuitive living
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feminine energy
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slow homemaking
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identity
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grief
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healing
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joy, softness, and the little rituals that keep us grounded
These pieces of my life have been quietly tugging at me, asking for more room — and now, I’m finally giving them a home.
So this winter, the blog will be blooming into something new.
Something softer.
Something warmer.
Something rooted in both story and soul.
What’s coming isn’t a departure.
It’s a blooming.
A quieter, deeper, more expansive expression of everything I’ve learned — and everything I’m still learning.
I can’t wait to share what’s next — the name, the mission, the vision — all of it.
It’s coming soon, and I hope it feels like an exhale when you see it.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for growing with us.
A new season is coming…
and I’m so excited to invite you into it.
Sending you love and light,
Jaime