Here’s your permission to give yourself some grace this Monday.
I don’t know about you, but for someone whose productivity thrives at the intersection between ambition and mild anxiety, Mondays aren’t where I shine.
In theory, Mondays should present a fresh start to the week— a day of promise with so much potential achievement ahead. But the reality is there’s only so much that one can get done in a single day. I’m someone who welcomes a running start to the week.
Oh, Monday— you didn’t ask to be deemed “manic,” but, as it goes in life: timing is everything. You show up, demanding action to do, right after the weekend, just as our nervous systems are resetting, just as we fell back into play and love and being.
But this Monday, it’s not just manic. There’s something different in the emotional air. A sense that the word normal has lost all its meaning. Normal, a grounding baseline of what should be, now gone.
I believe the shift toward where we are today began around 2016, but each year since has brought a new crescendo of upheaval. The most recent being last week, absolute devastation struck a city so many of us love—and many of you call home: Los Angeles.
I’ve never been so glued to my phone. Flames painted everything orange. Fear, confusion, and panic flooded texts and calls. Are you okay? How can we help?
My first text was to Amy Liu, the Founder of Tower28, last Tuesday afternoon. She had posted about a fire near her home in the Palisades, and I wanted to check in. I was set to fly to LA the following week to co-host our live Crown Affair x Tower28 Masterclass for the Sephora Squad—a project our teams had been working on for the last month. But in that moment, my thoughts were with her: her kids, her home. Was the fire getting closer? How could I help before seeing her in person?
Over the next six days, everything unraveled.
One by one, friends’ homes went up in flames. Miraculously, Amy’s home is still standing, but most of her block is gone. Her daughter’s school is gone. Her neighborhood? Gone. The devastation is unimaginable.
Thinking about what we were supposed to present together this Wednesday feels emotionally light-years away.
This isn’t just another Monday.
For the following week, my team had planned a dreamy event to bring together many members of our community. But as I glance at the invite list, five people on it have already lost their homes. And everyone on that list knows someone—likely several people—who have lost everything.
My dear friend Sacha, who had just poured everything into buying her first home and was lovingly making it her own, lost it all in an instant. Just days before, she shared her January manifestation board, inspired by my recent Substack.
It’s surreal—one moment, you’re planning your life; the next, the unimaginable happens.
No matter where we are in the world—no matter the war, extreme weather, or human-made tragedy—dreamers are feeling the weight right now. We all want more for ourselves and a better life for our communities. But when something like this happens, it changes you.
You survive, you grow, you come out stronger, but it shifts your focus away from dreams and play, the very spaces where the magic happens.
I’m someone who spends her life creating beautiful things to remind us we’re all worthy of care, my heart breaks for everyone who lost everything in the fires—the objects and spaces that held so much meaning.
The things around us add up to something deeper. And the ones you miss most are never the ones that can be replaced. It’s the book your grandmother annotated in the margins, the diary from your first summer abroad, the concert ticket stubs you’ve saved up for years, or the stuffed animal you carried everywhere as a kid. It’s the room where you meditate, journal, brush your hair, or cook a meal for someone you love.
This post is for many of you—for the dreamers, to remind you there’s still so much to build upon. For those who need permission to give themselves grace on a Monday like this, in a world that constantly demands ambition and achievement. For those who have lost so much in an instant.
And it’s for all of us, as a reminder to come together. Because with the state of the world and the way we communicate, something larger feels at stake—our humanity. If we don’t slow down, find presence, and reclaim our creative minds soon, we risk losing what matters most.
Take care, and take your time, always,
Dianna
Ps. I’ll be back later this week with a post that was supposed to live last week on Air Dry January, as well as 3 Things I Love and A Haircare Tip. Thank you for being here and being on this journey together.
So beautifully expressed, thank you.
Thank you for acknowledging and not just diving right back into regular programming 💔❤️💔❤️ Beautifully said.