My First Quilt Show

 

Mid Atlantic 2026 Quilt Show

Walking into the quilt show in Hampton, Virginia felt a little like stepping into a dream I wasn’t entirely sure I belonged in—. Rows of intricate stitches, bold colors, and masterful designs surrounded me, each quilt telling its own quiet story. And somewhere among them…was mine.

This was my first time entering a quilt show, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. There’s a vulnerability in sharing something handmade—something that holds your time, your choices, your tiny imperfections. I found myself scanning the room, comparing, admiring, second-guessing…then slowly, something shifted.

People stopped. They looked. They leaned in. (Well, I even snuck up behind a couple discussing my Quilt! Too bad I didn't have my hearing aids in!) 

In that moment, it didn’t matter if my quilt was the most technically perfect or the most elaborate. It was seen. And more importantly, I realized I was part of something bigger—a community of makers who understand the patience, the creativity, and the heart behind every stitch.

I left Hampton with more than just the experience of entering a show. I left with a sense of belonging, a spark of confidence, and a quiet excitement to keep creating. Because the hardest part wasn’t the quilting.

It was saying, “This is mine,” and letting it be enough.

Susan, Patty and I enjoying a celebration moment after the show! 

Birthday Baggage

 

When you have Baggage,

 Well go make a bag!

I celebrated my birthday over the weekend. Birthdays have always been a struggle. A trigger in many ways. Nevertheless, I decided to do something a little bit different this year!

Celebrate It!

Afterall this is not just another day, but a reminder of where I've been—and how far I've come!

My local quilt store Sew Chaotic even opened up their shop so we could celebrate and create a day of new memories!

I cannot begin to tell you how above and beyond Cathy Vance Warner and her daughter Jenn Vaughan went for me! 

Since I knew the day would be a bit overwhelming, I invited only a few people that know my PTSD journey.

Trauma doesn’t just vanish. It lingers in the body, in the quiet moments, in the way we flinch at kindness, open birthday gifts from friends for the first time, or brace ourselves for disappointment in life that is often out of our control. 

But healing isn’t about forgetting. It’s about reclaiming. About choosing softness where we once built walls, about learning to stay when we want to run.

This year, my friends Diane, Rose, Robbi, Susan, Carol, and Kathrine and I learned to make a bag! The class was taught by Lynne Daconta.

You see everyone has baggage. It is what you do with it that matters! I realized: making this bag is an act of power. Of grounding. Of saying, 

“I am here. I am still standing. I am creating.”

The birthday is a bonus. Not a celebration of age, but of endurance. Of survival. Of growth.

To anyone who’s carrying their pain quietly while still showing up, still creating, still dreaming—I see you.

Healing doesn’t always look like therapy sessions and breakthroughs. Sometimes it looks like crafting something beautiful on your birthday. Sometimes it looks like making a bag with those that care about you.

And that’s enough.