22/06/2025
17 years.
I started with Pastry Perfection—baking joy into every cake, marking milestones for others, lighting up birthdays, weddings, homecomings. But never once did I make a birthday cake for myself.
There was no time, maybe no space, to celebrate me.
Years later, I found myself drawn to candles. The silence of wax, the whisper of fragrance, the slow dance of a wick. I poured love into every jar—named each scent after someone I held close. But never after myself.
I stayed nameless. I stayed faceless. Always behind the joy, never inside it.
I was the first to offer custom labels—every name, every date, every word carefully placed to honor someone else's story. I made room for their memories, their meanings.
And then came Sweet Magnolia—a garden of scents and stillness. My silent dream where candles met greenery, and romance bloomed in the hush of light and fragrance.
Tiramisu? It has no story. Just a name. Like me—present, but not seen.
But this journey… it’s been profound. I’ve watched love unfold across counters. I’ve witnessed silent grief held together with the flame of a candle. I’ve seen people cherish each other with the tiniest, most thoughtful gestures.
Through every order, every label, every scent—I’ve learned how much people long to be remembered.
And quietly, I’ve remembered them all.
Even now, many of my first clients from Pastry Perfection return. They are a part of me. Just like Wicked Candles, Sweet Magnolia, and yes—even Tiramisu.
They say I run a small home bakery. But behind every "small business" is a soul, a story, a silence that holds everything together.
Just once, pause and ask about the hands behind the flame.
You might just find a life woven with love.
