The Passion Project
On finally starting something I’ve carried with me for years.
I just turned 30.
A namesake beauty blog has been my dream since my early 20s, so for this to finally exist (not just as a burning idea) feels badass.
Turns out, some things take years to become real.
But if I had to call out the enemy over the years? Fear. Perfectionism. A version of myself I hadn’t fully stepped into yet, but she was always there, just poking and whispering. I kept waiting to feel ready, for something to click. But if I’m being honest, the deepest fear wasn’t failure. It was being seen trying and then stopping. Proving to myself, and everyone watching, that I wasn’t locked in enough. Wasn’t obsessed enough. That maybe I didn’t actually want this as badly as I claimed. I started, stopped, and revisited this WordPress site more times than I can count. Ready never showed up, but clarity did, and a persistent, unshakeable desire to bring this to life that never once let me go.
This space is an extension of my view of the world — beauty, details, feeling. The kind of place that makes you want to linger. Go ahead and bookmark it.
Skincare has been a connecting theme my entire life. The thing I’ve studied, practiced, lived, and breathed for over a decade. From learning product science at Deciem, to completing 1,000 hours of advanced aesthetics training, to working hands-on with clients — understanding their skin and translating it into language they use. It’s my lane. It’s just what I do.
At some point it became bigger than a career. This blog isn’t something I’m building just to monetize — it’s an extension of me. The thing I want to be known for. That quiet recognition of “that’s Deja, she has a great beauty blog.”
And in an era where everything is floating heads and vlogs and showing the world your every move, I’m very much still a blog girl. I mean, I came up in the Tumblr era and I wholeheartedly believe in breadcrumbs and a little mystery and I never stopped believing that was the only way for me to exist online.
What I didn’t plan for was motherhood shifting everything. Not just my routine, my sense of self. The dreams I had for myself quietly took a backseat, and somewhere in those five years of pure devotion to my daughter, I disappeared on myself. But Aspen’s five now. And something about that has made this feel more urgent than ever. I don’t just want to build this for myself anymore, I need her to see me do it. To see her mom bet on herself and follow her most audacious dreams all the way through.
So if you’ve been sitting on something — a dream, an idea, a version of yourself you keep talking yourself out of — this is for both of us.
Ciao.