Sparkling Escapades Abroad with the Fairy Bra Mother

Oh, life really does have its twists and turns, doesn’t it?

Today was my first cataract surgery—my right eye. I went in nervous already, but what followed just about undid me. You see, I’m what the medical world kindly calls a DIVA: Difficult Intravenous Access. After four failed IV attempts, my sweet husband begged them to use ultrasound guidance. But no one there was trained for it. So they tried again… and again. Eight pokes in total—finally landing an IV in my foot. Yes, my foot.

By the time they wheeled me into surgery, I was shaking. I was already scared about the procedure, and now I was hurting and exhausted. But something unexpected happened: I started to sing. I don’t even remember what started it, but singing helped my eye stay still. Every time I stopped, it wanted to move, so the surgeon asked me to sing “The Butterfly Song” again. I think I sang it at least three times. It helped me stay calm—and I think it calmed the room too.

The colors I saw during the surgery were stunning—brilliant purples, yellows, greens, and magentas swirling like a painting behind my closed eyelid. They had to keep increasing my sedation, and at one point, they got concerned about my breathing. So the next surgery (for my left eye) will be under general anesthesia. It’s scheduled for June 2.

I came home relieved it was over—but then life threw another curveball. I found myself in the middle of a very public controversy in my bra business. Somehow, a Google ad was circulating with my name on it—one I never created. Before I even had a chance to understand what was happening, I was accused of wrongdoing and publicly reprimanded.

It hurt more than I can say.

To be honest, I didn’t read all the comments. The ones I did see were harsh and disheartening. I eventually spoke with the CEO and we tried to sort it out. She took the post down, which I appreciated—but the damage to my spirit was already done.

What hurts most is this: I had just found my spark again. I was excited. Reenergized. Ready to show up for women who need support—not just in bras, but in life. And now? I feel crushed. Like maybe I don’t belong. Like maybe I’m not strong enough for this space.

People say “trust it to God,” and I do try. But on days like this, when my body aches and my spirit feels small, it’s not so easy. Especially when old feelings of not measuring up come rushing in like waves.

Later, I told a friend about how I sang during surgery—how it was the only thing keeping me grounded. I expected sympathy, maybe a wince. But instead, she lit up and said,
“You have the most amazing days! Singing during surgery? Truly! I’m glad to call you my friend. I know that was hard! Like I said—so amazing and such a witness. God has such interesting ways to use you.”

And suddenly… I saw it differently.
Maybe I wasn’t just getting through the day.
Maybe I was being used in the midst of it.

So I’m choosing—for today, anyway—to believe that God can still write beauty into broken places, even when I’m too sore or sad to see it clearly.

If you’ve ever felt misunderstood, judged too quickly, or doubted yourself in a space you love—please know you’re not alone. And if you have a gentle way you get through deep disappointment, I’d love to hear it.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
—Psalm 34:18

He sees the pokes, the pressure, the passion, and the pain. And even when it feels like the pieces are scattered, He’s already holding them together.