Honestly, I'm Fine

Hi, I’m Maile. And I’m fine. Totally fine. The kind of fine where your toddler dumps glitter in the dog’s water bowl and everything you love sparkles with chaos.

This episode starts with jokes about tuna fish sandwiches and ends with the kind of truth that breaks you open in the best, ugliest way. My friend Tanisha ( @dropitlikeitshaute ) sits with me as I talk about Kingston—my miracle baby, the boy who wasn’t supposed to be here, and the one who taught me how to fight for light in the dark.

It’s messy, real, raw, and weirdly funny in all the places grief shouldn’t be. We talk colic, intuition, hospital hell, mother’s instinct, and the moment everything changed.

Because “fine” doesn’t mean healed—it means surviving long enough to tell the story.

🎧 Listen if you’ve ever loved someone so much that the loss rewired your soul.

Follow my chaos: Instagram @hautemess_la, @honestly__im_fine, @livelikekingston | TikTok @hautemess.la

This one starts exactly the way you’d expect two grown women who have been friends since Wet Seal and jelly sandals to reconnect on a podcast: a frozen screen, a dying phone, and me broadcasting from the back of my 2013 Ford Explorer next to barbed wire like I’m calling in from county lockup.

Tanisha and I have known each other for almost 30 years. She remembers me as the tiny “pretty preppy girl” from Southcenter Mall. I remind her I was a broke kid who hid peanut butter sandwiches in my pocket and got my hair butchered by a guy who learned to cut hair in prison.

We talk about growing up broke, getting our asses kicked in middle school, threatening parents at our kids’ school, stripping at Hooters out of pure spite, throwing our lives away on men we couldn’t quit, racking up DUIs, and raising kids while drowning in grief, debt, and toll lane violations.

And somewhere in all of that, we talk about Kingston. What it feels like to lose a child. What it feels like to stay in a city because your daughter deserves to keep the only place that remembers her brother lived. Why people think they’re being helpful when they tell grieving parents to “just move home.” Why survival looks ridiculous, embarrassing, ugly, resourceful, angry, and holy at the same time.

This episode is messy. It’s raw. It’s funny. It’s exactly what real life looks like when you stop trying to pretend you’re fine.

If you’ve ever felt alone, ashamed, overwhelmed, or convinced everyone else was doing better than you: buckle up. We are all disasters in different outfits.

Follow, stalk, or harass me on social:
Instagram: @HauteMess_LA
TikTok: @HauteMess.LA

Listen, rate, review, and share with someone who needs a reminder that their story isn’t the only wreck in town.

Welcome to Honestly, I’m Fine — the chaotic, raw, spiritually confused, dark-funny memoir-podcast of a woman who will absolutely say “I’m fine” while ugly crying in her car and eating carbs like communion.

In this first episode, I take you back to the exact moment my nervous system said, “Nope, we’re done here.”

I was eight.

My mom told me the man I called Dad… wasn’t.
And then suddenly I’m at McDonald’s with a stranger feeding me soft serve like a sad Hallmark special nobody greenlit.

We unpack:
• What happens when your DNA ghosts you
• How trauma chooses your future boyfriends
• Why emotionally unavailable men feel “like home”
• And how I still, somehow, believe in love anyway

It’s raw. It’s ridiculous. It’s cheaper than therapy.
If you’ve ever been abandoned, ignored, rejected, or accidentally married your trauma — welcome home.

Follow, share, rate, review, send to your group chat of emotionally unstable friends.

Let’s monetize the misery together.

SOCIALS + LINKS

Watch on YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YbsH963JSY

Follow on Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/hautemess_la/

Kickstarter – The AfterWords Project
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/theafterwords/the-afterwords-project-a-true-story-of-grief-and-rebuilding-0?ref=project_build&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaf9wjEx9POelTg9xtKmVUTRKRduRqEpag47bkIn4JVkX2coT2RZneUxBIBU8Q_aem_j-V-KCBfHIYR7_opv8Cl5g

GoFundMe – Help Maile & Zuma
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-maile-and-zuma-rebuild-after-tragedy?attribution_id=sl:06115cc4-9608-47db-9ec4-ca9f7cadfce3&utm_campaign=natman_sharesheet_dash&utm_content=amp13_c-amp14_t1&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link

This episode is about learning to recognize when Spirit is speaking and what it really means to ask for confirmation. I talk about how I’ve been experimenting with channeling, the signs that have shown up when I least expected them, and the moments that made me question whether I was making it all up or actually tuning in.

It’s a look at what happens when faith meets curiosity. I share how I’ve asked for proof, how it feels to receive it, and what it’s teaching me about trust, timing, and surrender.

If you’ve ever wondered how to tell the difference between coincidence and communication, or whether your loved ones still find ways to reach you, this episode will feel like sitting in that question together.

#TheAfterWords #SpiritualAwakening #ChannelingSpirit #SignsFromHeaven #Mediumship #GriefSupport #HealingJourney #LoveNeverDies #Intuition #TrustTheSigns #EnergyWork #FaithInAction #SoulConnection

Yup. Me again.
I know you’re tired of seeing my name pop up. I’m tired of being the one who has to ask. But GoFundMe doesn’t come with a mute button, so here I am again, asking you to share this with anyone who might understand what I’m crawling through.

Here’s the deal: I need a car. A decent one. One that doesn’t sound like it’s auditioning for a punk band every time I turn the key. My cousin’s holding one for me for two weeks—$3,500. Not fancy, but it runs.

If you’d rather send money straight to him, I’ll make it happen. I’ll pay it back, I’ll work it off, I’ll ghostwrite your memoir, whatever keeps me moving.

My credit looks like it went through a divorce and child loss—because it did. And before anyone asks why I don’t “just borrow from family,” remember: you’ve never seen me with anyone other than my kids.

This community is the only reason we’re still standing. I don’t want to just take. I want to build something sustainable for grieving families like mine. But nothing’s free. Not even grief. Gas isn’t free. My phone isn’t free. Surviving isn’t free.

I’m building something that matters—The Live Like Kingston Foundation—so no parent has to crawl through this alone. To file 501(c)(3) status costs $475. I’ve built the websites, written the plans, and done every bit of it myself. I just need help crossing the line.

I hate asking. It’s humiliating. But there have been days when I sat crying in my car because I didn’t know how I’d get gas or keep the lights on—and your help came through at the exact moment I needed it.

If you’ve got work, know a sponsor, or can contribute in any way, it all counts. If you can’t, just share this. Visibility is currency too.

I’m not lazy. I’m not broken. I’m just a mom rebuilding from ashes, one awkward, mascara-streaked laugh at a time.

— Maile Navarro

💜 Kickstarter: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/theafterwords/the-afterwords-project
🎧 The AfterWords Podcast: https://spotify.link/JU3p5p8GCXb
🌐 Websites:
theafterwordsproject.com — podcast + grief stories
livelikekingston.org — foundation + family support
thriveadvocacycollective.com — advocacy + navigation services
📱 Socials:
Instagram: @HauteMess_LA
Facebook: The AfterWords

#Grief #Motherhood #MentalHealth #Healing #Resilience #Faith #AfterLife #SingleMom #Humor #Inspiration #TheAfterWordsProject

If grief had its own voicemail, this would be it. Three minutes of chaos, comedy, and catharsis for anyone one missed payment away from a meltdown. Maile turns her exhaustion into performance art, telling capitalism to hold please—God’s still buffering.

Short. Savage. Spiritually delinquent.

What happens when life flips the script, leading you down a path of love, self discovery and resilience? This podcast shares a mother’s raw and unfiltered journey through unimaginable loss, fueled by hope and lessons from a wise young soul. With laughter, tears, and strength, we explore finding purpose, healing in chaos, and navigating life’s hardest challenges.

If I Never Get to See the Northern Lights
A true story about the song that saved me, the swing that held me, and the love I never stopped waiting for.

In this bonus episode, I’m sharing something I’ve never said out loud—about the late-night ritual that kept me going during some of the loneliest years of my life. A porch swing. A pair of headphones. A country song on repeat. And a love that lived quietly in my bones while the rest of my life demanded everything else.

This isn’t a breakup story. It’s a soul story. It’s about hope, memory, grief, and the kind of love that finds a way to exist even if it hasn’t come back yet.

If you’ve ever loved someone in silence…
If you’ve ever let a song carry you through a season…
If you’ve ever pictured your future with someone who wasn’t ready yet—
This one’s for you.

Full story also available on the blog at theafterwords.co
DM your thoughts on Instagram @TheAfterWordsPodcast
Subscribe for more episodes, meditations, and stories like this one

#Podcast #Grief #Love #TwinFlame #ThomasRhett #DieAHappyMan #UnspokenLove #AfterWordsPodcast #Memoir

One missed message. One “Oh, I didn’t know” moment. And suddenly, what should’ve been a simple birthday party turns into a full-body reminder that my nervous system is still wired for survival mode.

This episode isn’t about balloons or cake. It’s about how the smallest disruption can set off every alarm you’ve been trying to keep quiet since loss. I talk about the year mark that changed nothing, the reality of life after caregiving, and the way grief rewires you so deeply that other people’s normal will never feel like yours again.

Follow me on TikTok and Instagram, share this with someone who gets it, buy Zuma’s Magical Balloon on Amazon, or help keep the podcast going through sponsorships or donations. Because the truth is, spaces where we can tell it exactly how it is don’t build themselves — we build them together.

Hey there, my dear friend! I just had to share the journey I've been on this past year. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions since my sweetest boy left us. Every day, I feel his spirit, as bright and warm as the sun, guiding me on this path I never quite saw before.

You know, he always had this incredible way of seeing things I couldn't see. It's like he was meant to show me the true purpose of it all—our place and plans and, oh, where our souls belong. He always teased me for being fast while he was slow, insisting he'd light the way. And now, in some surreal and magical way, he really is.

Even though time feels like it's dragging its feet here, I take comfort in knowing that he's in a place where clocks don't even tick. But, not gonna lie, I still have moments where I just break down and cry out to God, longing to be where he is.

Sometimes I feel like I hear him, in the wind, whispering that he's been right here all along, cheering me on with that fearless spirit of his. I carry on with the courage and strength he taught me—he truly lived every single day to the fullest.

Now, I treasure every memory, holding them close until it's my time to join him. My son was not just my child but also my best teacher and truest friend. His life, his legacy, it's all woven into the fabric of who I am today.