Even If You Never Know—What You Do Matters

When I was fourteen, my mom’s best friend Diane gave me a gift that changed my life. And in 2023—nearly 30 years later—I sent her a thank you note detailing the ripple effect her present (and presence) had.

The gift was a subscription to Sassy magazine and as a questioning teen figuring out my style, taste, and sexuality, it couldn’t have been more spot on.

I remember the first issue that arrived featured Jenny Garth from 90210 on the cover and a photo of her with the bottom of her shoes to the camera, the thrift store tag still affixed to the soles.

Unlike other teen magazines, it was real, raw, relatable, and utterly irreverent in its approach. I remember reading about zines, and Riot grrrls, Kim Gordon, and Daryl K, and fantasizing about living in New York City surrounded by a cool crew of radical women who did things unapologetically, their own way.

It shaped my dreams of moving to New York, my music taste, and 10 years later, when I launched Refinery29, it influenced my approach to creating content that was playful, accessible, and broke the rules.

For years I thought about how this gift impacted me, long after the subscription had ended. And then I finally—duh!—realized I should let Diane know. So I sat down and wrote her a letter detailing how this gesture had taken my hand and guided me toward the life I was now living.

Diane had always been an inspiration to me. A witchy potter with platinum hair pulled back in a bun who threw summer solstice raku parties, the flames licking the pots as the sun set. She had the warmest physical presence and gave those kind of hugs that shave years off your life with their healing powers. She laughed mirthfully and mischievously and had an eye for beauty in small things.

Her home and pottery shop felt magical with their warm wooden interiors full of things made by human hands. Diane’s family—The Jenkins—was our extended family and I loved stopping by to eat soup out of the earthenware bowls she and her husband David made, their weight grounding me, the soup inside spiritual somehow.

After I became a New Yorker, I rarely saw her in person— maybe once or twice a year—but we’d exchange messages on Instagram. I enjoyed her photos of flowers, pottery, and the moon (always the moon!). She’d send articles and quotes she thought I’d appreciate, like “Joy is an important form of knowledge.” Once, I sent her the Witch podcast on the BBC and she replied “Takes one to know one. 🧙🏼‍♀️Let’s cast a spell today.”

A few weeks after I sent my letter off, I got one from her in return. She shared how she had no memory of the Sassy gift but that my vivid story had created a teachable moment for her to share with her fourteen-year-old granddaughter Willow (an Aries like me).

The lesson, she said was that “Even if you never know — What you do matters! We are all connected.”

Her last message to me said, “And laughter ensued...carry on with play time. Keep bringing the magic.” Making things with my hands and heart, just like she did, feels like a way to honor her.

We may never know the full impact we have on others but sometimes, if we’re very lucky, we get the chance to close the loop—to tell someone that their kindness found its mark, that their magic worked.

I am so grateful I did.