Dear Avery,
You turned 15 at the beginning of this month. Fifteen. I can’t quite wrap my head around it.
You’ve built such an incredible life for yourself already—strong, loyal friendships, straight A’s, and this fearless willingness to try anything. Volleyball? Sure. Track and field? Why not. Basketball? Varsity as a freshman—no big deal. It’s kind of unreal.
You are amazing. Not just in what you do, but in who you are.
And somehow, this also means I’ve been writing this blog for fifteen years.
Fifteen.
I started it because I had just become an aunt for the first time, and I wanted you to know me in a deeper way, even from far away. I have nine aunts of my own, which is a lot—but only one really went out of her way to know me. She showed up. Birthdays, Christmas, parties, even my baby shower. She didn’t live nearby either, but she showed up when it mattered.
And that stays with you. It means something.
Writing has always been how I make sense of the world…its beauty, its grief, all of it…so this became my way of loving you. What I didn’t realize then was that it would also become a love letter to myself.
Over time, something unexpected happened. People started reading. And they reached out to tell me that these words met them in their own grief, their own losses, their own wins. This space became bigger than I ever imagined.
All fifteen years of it.
In that time, I’ve lived through an early-age marriage, infertility, divorce, the loss of people I deeply love—and also found my way back to myself. To real love. To motherhood. To a deep, unshakable sisterhood.
I’ve changed. A lot.
But every step of the way came from learning to trust my gut. Listening to that quiet voice inside me. Walking through doors that scared me, believing something bigger was holding me on the other side. My path has taken me away from religion and into something wider, more expansive. Something that keeps teaching me there is always more to discover, more to become.
I am becoming whole, more and more each day. On my own. For myself. So I can show up fully for the people I love.
So I can be a light when things feel dark.
A steady place when life feels uncertain.
A person who listens, really listens.
I hope you always know this, Avery: that I will be that person for you.
The one who shows up.
For birthdays and graduations.
For holidays and the in-between moments.
The one who will camp with you, paddleboard in Tahoe with you, and be right there beside you as your life unfolds.
Being your aunt is one of the greatest honors of my life.
I have always been proud of you.
And I am even more excited for who you are becoming.
Here’s to the next fifteen years.
With love,
Aunt Megs
Ps. I’ve been doing a lot more writing on substack as a wise friend advised I do. You can follow me here for more frequent updates: https://substack.com/@megsteen
With Love, Aunt Megs 