Hi, I’m Kayla, and…

Grief is odd. It’s weird and uncomfortable but also probably one of the most natural processes humans go through. There’s no right path, wading the waters of loss. That’s all to say that grief is something I was never prepared to walk in. Is anyone? There’s no book warning people what they’re about to step into when they lose a person. (False: I’m sure there are a number of books… but I sure as hell didn’t touch one prior to loss.)

I think when I meet someone new, there’s a subconscious desire to be known and know them, like not just the surface stuff. I mean, I feel that way anyway. I genuinely like getting to know WHO people are and where they came from and how they turned out this way… (I’m generally that chatty uber passenger, too.)

So when I meet people, I think the inner me, not showing her true cards, wants the new person to know Kelsey, my sister, the one who has been gone for almost three years, the one who it’s physically impossible to meet now… that’s who I’d love to introduce most people to when we’ve just met. Is that odd?

Or no? I don’t know. Someone who was so part of my personal history, my memories, and admirations, that’s who I’d like to introduce people to when they meet me… and it stings that my heart and mind work this way.

We all have our Scarlett letters, curses set on us by outside forces, or badges of honor, the things we proudly display with our chest puffed up. Right? Some battle inside demons and Evil would love for these letters to consume your identity and cripple you with fear. I don’t want to live that way.

So I genuinely try not to, and I wade through the sometimes muddy waters of grief. I talk about Kelsey when it seems fitting. That part of me and our story isn’t shelved. The icky parts of life can often be used to help others in their muddy waters, too. So I hope you’ll keep “speaking your truth.” That’s what all the cool kids say… but I see it… don’t hold part of you back because you’re sad or scared or… or… or… that’s what I’d tell myself anyway.

life, lularoe


I think it’s important to know why you do what you do and how it’s significant to you and others. I have learned throughout the last two years that knowing why and sharing it, speaking it, living in that why is how I keep understanding my drive, joy, and passion for my “job.” Why do you do what you do? I challenge you to think about that. It has helped me keep my head down and persevere on hard days and been a cheerleader to me in the victories.

I found Lularoe at a middle road in my journey. No major highs or lows, and nothing so tumultuous, it just seemed like a good opportunity at a time when I wanted a little something more for myself to do and enjoy. I didn’t see the road ahead for what it was, but I finally committed to signing up at the beginning of a major growth in the company and a huge turning point in our lives. Luke was medically discharging from the military and we were going to be self-employed 100% with our first company and now the hobby.

I learned a lot about myself in the beginning of the Lularoe journey. I learned that I do not half-do anything. When I start something, and I think I can do it, I DO IT. I am a competitive goal-oriented person when I believe in what I’m doing, so when I started Lularoe and I loved it, I DID the dang thing. I built relationships without really knowing what I was doing, and quickly found that I loved going live and interacting with women from all over the country. I loved selling clothes to people on Periscope and ordering more and more and more clothes.

Lularoe became our primary source of income, and a team of women banded  with me and I never expected that. I had my socks BLESSED OFF. I say blessed intentionally because there was no seeing what was coming months later in 2016.

My sister had stage four Melanoma for years. At this point, nine years in June 2016, and the cancer had spread to her brain a year prior, but emergency surgery and radiation gave a lot of hope and a good year before the cancer started spreading and growing again. We didn’t know the radiation wouldn’t work and it would be found to have spread to her brain stem the next month, and seizures would happen and… and… and… so many unexpected things in my Kelsey’s life (my youngest daughter is also a Kelsey, but we’re talking sister Kels). I traveled for my first Lularoe event in July 2016, and bebopped up to Iowa the following week just in time to witness Kelsey’s first known seizure and spend several days with her in the hospital. And while it was not how we expected to spend my visit, it was seriously some of the most precious time we had. (Edited to add photos and our first discovery of the Snapchat that week.)

I spent about 1-2 weeks of each month the rest of 2016 being able to travel or carve out time for Kelsey. Without Lularoe, I don’t think I could have done that and my little family would have suffered financially. We had no clue we needed Lularoe in that season, and that is what fueled my fire for it. Freedom. Freedom to provide for my family and spend those precious moments where I needed to.

My sister won her battle December 12, 2016. I am so thankful for every single moment spent with her in 2016. Her last wish was to travel to see my family, at my house, in Louisiana, and she did in October. It was a great time with her and her daughter, Emily, and I still want to breathe in those moments often.

My job has been such a blessing the last couple years and remembering that it provides so much opportunity for the Kerley fam renews my passion to persevere on the days when the live sale flops or no one seems to see my posts on my VIP group. It allows me to be a creative individual and know that I’m more than any of my single roles as mom, friend, business owner, but I’m Kayla. I get to be entirely me, no facade, and people who have never met me have come to know and love me through this business and I’m eternally grateful.

This is my why. I’d love to know why you get out of bed. Why is what you do important to you?