A Thank You to Jen Hamilton

A note before you read: This post is a personal reflection, not sponsored content. We have no affiliation with Jen Hamilton or Sisterhood of Solidarity. We just watched, and we wanted to say something.

In June, Jen Hamilton told the truth.

She didn't have to. She had 5 million followers and a life that looked, from the outside, like something worth protecting. She could have gone quiet. She could have said nothing, or very little, and waited until she had something tidy to present on the other side.

She didn't do that.

She shared her story while she was still living it. The hard days. The honest ones. The videos where she was clearly not okay and didn't pretend otherwise. She took us through it in real time — not because she had answers, but because she was finding them, and she let us find them alongside her.

That is a specific kind of bravery that is easy to underestimate.

Most of us wait. We wait until we're through it, until we have the language for it, until we can present the version of the story that makes sense from beginning to end. We share the after because the during is too raw, too uncertain, too unfinished to put in front of anyone.

Jen Hamilton shared the during. And in doing so she gave millions of women permission to be in the middle of their own hard thing without having to pretend they were already through it.

What she built from that is something else entirely. The Sisterhood of Solidarity — a clothing line where 100% of proceeds go to organizations helping women access the resources to leave situations they can't get out of alone — has raised over $108,000. She took something devastating and turned it outward. Toward other women. Toward the ones who don't have the resources she was honest enough to acknowledge she had.

That matters in a way that is hard to overstate.

But I want to tell you about last night.

It was almost midnight. Her boys were home. And she went live as she folded laundry and talked to us about her experience and what all she's going through.

And she looked — I don't say this lightly — she looked beautiful. Absolutely radiant. Not because she was performing recovery. Not because she had it all together. But because she was just there, in the middle of something hard, doing an ordinary thing, and invited us in.

That's the part you usually don't get to see. You can be doing something so normal like folding laundry, pushing midnight on a Friday with children right down the hall and a life that looks completely different than it did just a few months ago — and still be okay. Still be yourself. Still be, somehow, glorious in the most ordinary moment.

And let me tell you — she was her usual unintentionally hilarious self. And there was also such a peace about her. An air of acceptance that is hard to attain and even harder to perform. She wasn't performing it. It was just there.

Jen Hamilton didn't just show us the after. She showed us the during. And that is the much braver thing.

We were watching, Jen. So many of us are. And we are so very grateful you let us in.

There is enough room for all of us doing this work. There always was.

The women who know that tend to be the ones worth watching.

August 2026 · Life After Ours