Starting Over

If you had asked me ten years ago what I'd be doing today, "building a skincare company in Alaska" would not have made the list. Not even close.

I spent years as a wife, a mother, and a firefighter. I built a life and did what a lot of women in my generation did without really questioning it: worked hard, took care of everybody, and got pretty good at putting myself last. That part is not unique to me. A lot of us did that.

What is a little unique is that in 2021, my husband and I sold most of our belongings, 30 years' worth, lol, and packed up what was left and headed to Alaska.

In February. Like idiots.

Getting here was its own story: a Southern belle learning to drive in the snow on the fly, a blizzard through Canada that included a wreck in -20 degree weather, a GPS SOS, and a 12-hour terrifying night in British Columbia. But that's a story for another day.

We made it. And Alaska got into us fast. The mountains. Moose outside my window. Bald eagles stealing the show. The feeling that you were living somewhere genuinely wild and real.

My skin, however, had a different opinion.

Within a couple of months, the combination of Alaska's climate and long winters had my skin feeling dry, tight, and uncomfortable in a way I had never experienced before. I had spent most of my life in Southern humidity. Alaska was not playing.

One day at a local farmers market, I bought a handmade soap. I liked how it felt compared to the store-bought stuff I had been using, and that one little purchase sent me somewhere I never expected to go.

I started making soap, first out of curiosity, the kind that starts with why does this feel different? and ends with you reading ingredient lists at midnight. I wanted to understand what was actually in the things I was putting on my skin, and once I started asking that question, I could not stop.

Then life stopped us cold.

My husband, an Alaska State Trooper, was shot five times in the line of duty. One knock at my door and everything you thought was solid becomes something you are just trying to hold together.

He survived, by the grace of God and the amazing first responders and doctors who got to him in time, and if you have ever been to Alaska, you know that the fact he is here after being shot alone out there is a real miracle.

The months that followed were long and filled with surgeries, therapy, and healing.

When everything around you is chaos, it can feel very overwhelming. Between the dozens of surgeries, appointments, and therapy sessions, I needed somewhere to put my mind, and I had a lot of time in waiting rooms to figure that out.

So I read.

One of my closest friends had given me a copy of The Boreal Herbal when I moved here, and I started reading it while sitting in those waiting rooms. I learned about the plants growing all around me: fireweed, yarrow, calendula, red clover.

Something clicked.

Here I was, living in one of the most botanically rich, wild places on earth, and I had barely stopped to look at it. I had been so focused on surviving the cold and the dark that I had not yet learned to see what was actually here.

That changed.

I started looking at Alaska differently, not just as a place I lived, but as a place filled with ingredients, resilience, and stories worth learning about. That little soap hobby started becoming something more.

But then my body said, "Hold on, sis, you're about to enter the next chapter of life."

I had already been in perimenopause, that slow, sneaky shift where things start changing before you even have a name for what's happening. Then I had a partial hysterectomy, and it was like everything accelerated.

The hormonal changes I had already been noticing became impossible to ignore. My skin felt thinner. More reactive. Tight in a way that moisturizer didn't fix. I'd put something on and within an hour it felt like I had put nothing on at all.

Products that had worked fine for years stopped working. Not a little. Completely.

Nobody really talks about what hormones do to your skin. Not honestly. You hear about hot flashes, mood swings, and weight gain, but the skin stuff catches you off guard. The texture changes. The sensitivity. The way your skin seems less capable of holding onto anything.

I wasn't looking for a miracle. I wasn't trying to look younger. I just wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin again, and I couldn't figure out why that had become so hard.

So I started researching. Not because I wanted to start a skincare company, but because I needed to understand what was actually happening and what my skin actually needed now.

I learned about botanical oils, hydration, modern skincare ingredients, and what changing skin actually needs. I tested products on myself first, then handed them to friends, and then more people started asking for them.

When I started using face oils consistently, it felt like a light switch came on. My skin didn't look twenty-five, let's not be ridiculous, but it felt better. It didn't feel like sandpaper. It didn't feel tight all the time. It finally felt comfortable again.

And honestly, that is what I want for other women too.

Because somewhere along the way, the beauty industry convinced us that every conversation about skin should be about looking younger. I don't believe that.

I think women deserve skin that feels good: soft, hydrated, cushioned, and comfortable. Skin that doesn't feel tight, dry, cranky, or ignored.

Today we have options our mothers never had: treatments, injectables, facials, prescriptions. And they work. But all of it works better on top of skin that is actually hydrated and cared for.

That is the part nobody talks about. You can do everything right and still walk around feeling dry, tight, and uncomfortable in your own skin.

That was me. And that is what I wanted to fix.

Women in our generation were expected to do it all: work, raise kids, support careers, hold families together, keep the house moving, and somehow make it all look effortless. We spent decades taking care of everybody else. Maybe it's finally our turn.

That is why Wild Alaska Skincare exists, not because I dreamed of owning a skincare company, not because I wanted to chase trends, not because I had some brilliant business plan.

It exists because my skin changed, my life changed, and I suspect I am not the only woman standing in the middle of a new chapter trying to figure out what works now.

The rhythm that changed everything for me was simple: Cleanse. Hydrate. Seal. That became the foundation of Wild Alaska Skincare.

Every product I make has a job. I love using ingredients from the land here, but they do not get added just because they sound pretty on a label. If fireweed, yarrow, calendula, or red clover earns a place in a formula, it is because it brings something real to the skin feel, the texture, or the purpose of that product.

I take that personally.

Because this brand is personal.

I started at farmers markets. I had people tell me in person how much they loved what I made, and I will always be grateful for that. But I don't feel like I belong only at the farmers market anymore.

I want women across the country to be able to try these products and feel the same kind of relief I felt when my skin finally stopped fighting me every day.

These days, I am still learning. I know how to make the products. I know how to test a formula until it earns its place. I know what I want these products to feel like on real skin.

Marketing, Shopify, TikTok, getting people across the country to find a small skincare brand in Alaska, that part I am figuring out as I go.

And I know I am not the only woman starting over after fifty, building something new, learning something new, trying to figure out what comes next.

If that's you, welcome. I'm glad you're here.

I believe in these products. I believe in the thought behind them. I believe in the women they are made for.

And I'm really glad you're here at the beginning.

Follow along as I build Wild Alaska.

Founder notes, Alaska ingredients, product development, changing skin, and the real work behind the finished jar.