The Fish Bone, The Book, and The Woman I’ve Become

I have this fish bone.

It’s not something you’ll find at West Elm or pinned to some curated boho decor board. It’s been sitting on my living room dresser for years—its edges dried and fossil-colored, its form shockingly human. Or maybe… divine.

Because here’s the thing: it looks like Christ. On the cross. Spine like a staff, arms outstretched, and a crown of bone spires.

I found it years ago. Don’t even remember where, which somehow makes it more holy. I stuck it on that old blue dresser like a relic, next to a piece of wood that—again, not planned—resembles one of those yellow arrows that guide pilgrims across Spain. A nod, perhaps, to my own 500-mile walk on the Camino de Santiago. A walk that cracked me wide open and stitched me back together stronger, softer, and whole.

But here’s where the story really started tugging at the hem of mystery.

I’ve been told I should tell my story more. Put my heart on the page. Sell my book—Are You the Christ?—on my website, alongside the stealth skort I designed to give women privacy and dignity outdoors.

So one day, I grabbed my book, set it on that blue dresser to take a photo. No planning. No staging. Just light, instinct, and a little bit of a deadline.

Click.

And then I saw it.

The book. The title. The fish bone crucifix beside it.

Are You the Christ?

Next to something that looked exactly like the Christ.

I had to sit down.

I didn’t pose this. I didn’t plan it. But somehow, the Universe did.

A woman who grew up uncertain and invisible, now writing about her sacred path through Spain. A woman who once shrank in her own skin, now building a company to protect other women from shame and exposure. A woman who used to whisper, now saying yes—boldly, vulnerably, loudly—because other women are watching. Waiting. Needing.

This fish bone isn’t just decor. It’s a breadcrumb. A holy breadcrumb left for me to find again years later, when I had eyes to see.

Because entrepreneurship? It’s less about Shark Tank and spreadsheets than you’d think. It’s more about serendipity. Trusting the signs. Following the arrows. Listening when the spirit of magic pulls the strings.

And maybe keeping a weird fish bone or two, just in case.