Cupcakes By Storm

06/06/2026

Every family has a recipe that carries them through generations. For mine, it’s a classic Peach Cobbler. First made by my grandmother, then baked by my uncle to keep her memory alive, and now left to me after his recent passing.

After weeks of dealing with the heavy, exhausting reality of grief and trauma, I turned on the oven to find my way back to a state of calm. But this time, I added my own chapter to the story—a Southern Bourbon Peach Cobbler.

In my latest blog entry, I’m sharing how the methodical steps of baking helped me process sitting with my uncle in his final moments, and how taking a flawless foundation and elevating it became my own way of healing.

Read "The Sweetness in the Stillness" via the link in my bio. ✨

https://cupcakesbystorm26.wixsite.com/cupcakes-by-storm/post/the-sweetness-in-the-stillness-elevating-a-living-legacy

06/06/2026

I’ve been quiet here for a while, and if I’m being honest, it’s because my heart and psyche have been entirely drained. Recently, I sat by my uncle’s side as he took his last breath. Navigating that kind of profound loss—and the exhausting logistics that follow it—left me feeling completely crumbled.

But this week, I finally stepped back into the kitchen to find my calm.

I pulled out a recipe that is the culinary heartbeat of my family. It was originally my grandmother’s, then passed to my uncle, and now it rests with me. To honor them, and to process my own grief, I made it with my own twist: a Southern Bourbon Peach Cobbler.

This post isn't just a recipe; it’s a living heirloom and a story about how we let the sharp edges of trauma simmer into peace. The line remains unbroken, and the sweetness remains.

Pour a cup of coffee and read the new post at the link in my bio. 🤍

https://cupcakesbystorm26.wixsite.com/cupcakes-by-storm/post/the-sweetness-in-the-stillness-elevating-a-living-legacy

04/12/2026

There is structural integrity in our struggle.

When life feels like it’s moving too fast to process, I return to the bench. I’m not "staying busy" to distract myself; I’m kneading to build the internal structure I need to carry the weight.

New post is up: The Weight of the Dough. It’s an honest look at why we push forward when life feels impossible. To anyone walking through a heavy season: it’s okay to move slow. Just keep your hands in the dough.

Read more at the link in my profile or below:
https://cupcakesbystorm26.wixsite.com/cupcakes-by-storm/post/the-weight-of-the-dough-when-pushing-forward-is-the-only-way-up

We talk often about the beauty of the "pause"—the essential rest that allows our lives to expand. But what do we do when the rest is over, and the heaviness is still there? What do we do when a loved one is fading, the news is hard, and the sheer weight of "life happening" makes the idea of moving...

04/12/2026

Sometimes, the "Pause" isn't enough.

We talk a lot about the beauty of the rest—the "Proofing" stage where life expands in the quiet. But what do we do when the rest is over and the heaviness is still there?

Right now, life is happening at full speed, and my heart is heavy. In the kitchen, I’ve realized that the "shaggy mass" of a new dough is a lot like grief. It’s sticky, it’s messy, and it fights back. But if we stop because it’s hard, we never develop the strength to rise.

Today on the blog, I’m sharing why I’m choosing to keep my hands in the flour, even when I don’t want to go on. Because sometimes, the healing isn’t in the rest—it’s in the knead.

Link in bio: https://cupcakesbystorm26.wixsite.com/cupcakes-by-storm/post/the-weight-of-the-dough-when-pushing-forward-is-the-only-way-up

We talk often about the beauty of the "pause"—the essential rest that allows our lives to expand. But what do we do when the rest is over, and the heaviness is still there? What do we do when a loved one is fading, the news is hard, and the sheer weight of "life happening" makes the idea of moving...