I Was Told Not to Share This

A journal of love, longing, and remembrance.

Set Forth NY began in the quiet aftermath of loss. When my mother, my Nanay, passed away from COVID-19, I found myself grasping for something to hold onto. I lit a candle. Then another. I kept lighting them until they became a ritual, a comfort, and eventually, a promise: that I would turn my grief into something meaningful.

That promise became this brand.

And this space — Letters to Nanay — is its beating heart.

I was recently told not to share this part of my story here. That people might not want to know about my mother, or that they’d grow tired of hearing about grief. That this might make others feel sorry for me, or worse, that it’s “not genuine,” that I’m using it for marketing.

But here’s the truth:

I’m not writing these letters for pity. I’m writing them because they’re real.

Because my mother deserves to be remembered.

Because grief doesn’t have an expiration date.

Because some of you out there are grieving too — and maybe you’ve been told to hide it, to tuck it away, to be more “on brand.”

Well… Set Forth exists because of this. Because of her.

It’s love.

It’s loss.

It’s light.

Set Forth is not just about candles — it’s about finding your way forward, one flicker at a time. These letters are part of how I do that. They are how I honor my mother, and how I keep my promise to her: to never stop writing, to never stop remembering, to never let her light fade quietly.

If any of this resonates with you — if you’re carrying your own grief, or just need a place where truth is allowed to exist — then welcome. You’re not alone here.

Thank you for remembering her with me.

Thank you for holding space for this.

With all my heart,

Karen