I'm about to share a piece of my life with you – not the polished instagram version, the real, behind the scenes story. My journey isn't all sunshine and rainbows; like all the best tales, there are antagonists, opposition, and darkness that oppose the unexpected flicker of light that can lead us toward purpose.

Depression has been my lifelong companion. From as far back as I can remember, anxiety and sadness tinted the canvas of my existence. They were my unwanted partners in this journey, shaping my days and shading my nights.

Picture this: university life, where shaving daily was a dress code requirement. Sounds trivial, right? But for me, it was a source of misery. My skin rebelled – dry, bumpy, and constantly uncomfortable. That's when my dad stepped in with an unexpected solution – traditional wet shaving. It was a revelation, turning a mundane chore into a sensory escape. The touch of warm lather, the precision of the razor – it was a small yet profound shift in my daily routine. 

Post-college life wasn't a fairy tale ending. Depression, that old nemesis, emerged from the shadows with renewed vigor. Sleepless nights, relentless misery, and an ever-present fear became an hourly battle. I needed an outlet, something to give me a little hope that there was a  way out of the darkness. And there it was, an old lathe beckoning to me from a garage sale site. A shot in the dark, a glimmer of hope.

The garage became my sanctuary, the lathe my instrument of liberation. My first endeavor? A shaving brush for my dad – a tribute, a token of gratitude for leading me to that oasis of wet shaving comfort. The result? Far from perfect, a raw creation with flaws aplenty. But holding that imperfect brush, something clicked. For the first time in forever, I yearned for the next day. A tiny ember of anticipation had been lit.

In that fragile moment, it hit me like a revelation – hope was the antidote to despair. The prospect of what tomorrow held became my beacon, my lifeline. With every turn of the lathe, I was molding not just wood and resin, but my own spirit. Each piece I crafted whispered, "There's more to come. Hold on."

As days turned into nights at my makeshift workshop, something incredible was unfolding. The symphony of wood against metal, the scent of shavings, the dance of creativity – they formed a melody that drowned out depression's relentless hum. Teton Shaves emerged not as a business idea, but as a testament to the journey I was navigating.

Teton Shaves – a humble brand, the beginning of a new chapter and the end of another.  It wasn't about selling products; it was about sharing resilience, igniting sparks in hearts that needed it most. Each shaving brush, each creation, carried a piece of my journey, refined through the struggle.

So here we are, you and I. In this space, in my story. Life isn't about clichés and picture-perfect moments. It's about finding solace in the unlikeliest of places, about crafting hope from the ruins of despair. Teton Shaves is more than a business for me. It’s about transformation, not only of resin and wood, but the shifting of an ugly, scary, desperate situation into something beautiful. 

Thanks for being here, for joining me on this path. Let's journey together, celebrating the unexpected turns that shape us, the vulnerabilities that make us real, and the things that weave purpose into our lives.