Today we’d like to introduce you to Nicole Drijas.
Hi Nicole, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
To tell you how Lavender Sage Creations started, I have to tell you how I started finding myself again.
The business didn’t begin with flowers.
It began with losing myself.
On January 19, 2020, I became a mom when my son, Sage, was born. Everyone tells you that becoming a mother changes you, but no one really prepares you for what it feels like when you can’t find the person you were before. Then COVID happened. We were isolated, scared, and trying to figure out parenthood in a world that didn’t know what tomorrow looked like.
At the time, I thought I was okay.
I wasn’t.
Four years later, on February 14, 2024, my daughter Lavender was born, and everything I had unknowingly been carrying finally came crashing down. I was diagnosed with severe postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety, and PTSD from having my first child during COVID.
I loved my children more than life itself.
That was never the problem.
The problem was that I couldn’t find me anymore.
For a while I managed. My husband, James, was home, and we survived one day at a time. But once he went back to work and it became just me and two little humans… I unraveled.
There was one day where I couldn’t fight my own mind anymore.
It was me or my littles.
So I put them safely in their room, closed the door, and called for help.
I wasn’t heard.
In that moment, I truly believed the world would be better without me.
Thankfully, life had other plans.
My neighbor showed up. She interrupted the darkest moment of my life without even realizing the magnitude of what she had just done. She made sure my children were safe until James got home.
She saved my life.
What came after wasn’t some magical overnight recovery.
It was therapy.
Psychiatrist appointments.
Medication.
Learning how to survive one hour at a time.
Then something extraordinary happened.
My son started bringing me flowers.
Every walk.
Every single walk.
“Mommy… save this one.”
So I did.
I saved every flower he handed me.
At first I tucked them into little frames because I couldn’t bear to throw them away. Then I started pressing them inside books. I bought flowers. I learned about preserving them. I arranged them between glass. I spent hours just creating because, for the first time in a long time, my brain became quiet.
One day I found an old flower press at Goodwill for three dollars.
I still laugh because I swear the universe looked at me and said, “Here. Keep going.”
Then my five-year-old looked at me and said,
“Mommy, we should sell your flowers.”
If you know Sage, that sentence won’t surprise you.
He already had his own little business selling handmade monster magnets and candles through children’s entrepreneur markets. Somehow this tiny human had more faith in me than I had in myself.
While he was encouraging me to sell flowers, I was trying to remember that Nicole still existed outside of being “Mom.”
I had forgotten I was allowed to enjoy things.
I was allowed to go somewhere by myself.
I was allowed to laugh.
In February 2025, my amazing friend Jessica invited me to a boozy candle-making class. It sounds so simple, but sitting there creating with my hands, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years.
Peace.
Two weeks later, I went back by myself to Hammer & Stain in Rockville for a sea glass flower class.
That studio healed me before it ever employed me.
I remember telling the instructor that this place was helping me find myself again. I didn’t even know she owned the studio. Half joking, I asked if they needed help.
By the end of March, I was teaching workshops.
Looking back now, it’s funny how life works.
I walked in hoping to heal.
I walked out helping other people create.
By April 2025, I had my first pop-up at La Cosecha.
By July, Lavender Sage Creations was officially born.
Market after market, I found something I never expected.
People.
Not customers.
People.
People who became family.
Artists who celebrated each other’s wins instead of competing.
Customers who didn’t just buy my work—they shared their stories with me.
Every conversation reminded me that we all carry things no one else can see.
Then 2026 rolled around, and my house couldn’t hold my business anymore. Between resin, flowers, and two little ones running around, I needed a workspace.
I found a studio in Rockville.
The plan was simple.
Rent the little room in the back.
Make flowers.
Go home.
Then Sage looked at the giant storefront windows and said,
“Mommy… we should make a store.”
Again…
I listened.
I reached out to the incredible vendors I had met throughout my journey, and on April 10, 2026, Wildflowers Collective opened its doors.
People think I opened a gift shop.
I didn’t.
I built the place I desperately needed when I was trying to find myself.
A place where artists don’t have to compete.
A place where being different is celebrated.
A place where your weird hobby isn’t weird anymore.
A place where small businesses can grow together instead of alone.
A place where people can simply breathe.
When people ask why flowers, I always smile.
Flowers didn’t save me.
My son did.
The flowers were simply the language he used to remind me there was still beauty worth holding onto.
Everything I create today—every pressed flower, every preserved bouquet, every workshop, every corner of Wildflowers Collective—is my way of honoring that little boy who kept bringing his mom flowers until she finally started believing she deserved to bloom again.
If there’s one thing I hope people take away from my story, it’s this:
Healing doesn’t always happen in grand moments.
Sometimes it begins with a tiny hand holding a tiny flower and saying,
“Mommy… save this one.”
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Is it ever a smooth road? Because if it is, I definitely haven’t found it yet.
It has felt more like a high-speed roller coaster, and honestly, I think I’m still on it. There are new struggles every day, and sometimes I am thriving, sometimes I am learning, and sometimes I am just trying to survive the day and keep moving forward.
In the beginning, one of my biggest struggles was my mental health, which is something I am honestly still working on. Lavender Sage was born during a time when I was trying to find myself again, so there was never really a separation between building the business and rebuilding me. They were happening at the same time.
Then came actually learning how to make everything. What do I make? How do I make it? What flowers press well? What technique works best? What materials do I use? How do I work with resin without ruining the flowers? There was—and still is—a lot of trial and error. I didn’t start this because I had some formal training or knew exactly what I was doing. I learned by trying, failing, researching, trying again, and occasionally staring at something I made wondering, “Well…what happened here?”
But one of the hardest parts was actually finding the courage to put my work out into the world.
Creating something is incredibly personal, and once you put a price tag on it and place it on a table for strangers to look at, it suddenly feels even more vulnerable. I worried about what people would think. Was it good enough? Would anyone actually buy it? Would people understand why these little flowers meant so much to me? I had to learn how to quiet some of those outside influences and trust that what I was creating had value, even if it wasn’t for everyone.
And all of that has happened while still living everyday life. I’m a mom of two. I’m trying to balance being present for my children, taking care of a home, creating, running a business, and now running a store. There are only so many hours in a day, and I am still learning that I cannot be everything to everyone all of the time.
So no, it hasn’t been a smooth road. Not even close.
But I also don’t think I would have Lavender Sage without some of those bumps. So much of what I create came from trying to find beauty during a time when life didn’t feel particularly beautiful. I’m still figuring things out. I’m still learning. I’m still working on myself.
And I’m still on that roller coaster.
I’ve just gotten a little better at holding on.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Lavender Sage Creation is really a little bit of everything I love. I work mostly with pressed and dried flowers, creating floating frames, shadow boxes, resin pieces, jewelry, coasters, keychains, bookmarks, and honestly, whatever else my brain decides I need to try next.
I would say I specialize in pressed flowers, but it’s more than just pressing them. For me, it’s about trying to preserve the story that came with the flower. I can look at some of the floating frames in my home and tell you exactly when I got those flowers, who gave them to me, what they were for, and why I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. The same goes for the dried flowers I use in my shadow boxes. Flowers don’t last forever, but sometimes the memory attached to them deserves to.
What I seem to be best known for, though, are my resin coasters. Customers are always drawn to them, especially at markets, along with my resin keychains. I love that every single one comes out a little different because no two flowers are exactly the same.
What am I most proud of? Honestly, making it this far.
Lavender Sage started with a small promise to my son. It started with him bringing me flowers from our walks and asking me to save them. Then we started making things together. He wanted to sell his creations, so I helped him. Then he encouraged me to sell mine. One market became another, one idea became another, and somehow that little promise grew into a small business that I am insanely grateful for. Eventually, it even helped give me the courage to open Wildflowers Collective and create a space where other small artists and makers could have their work seen too.
As for what sets me apart from other pressed flower artists? Me.
And I don’t mean that in an egotistical way. I mean me—my story, my personality, my vulnerability, my family, and the very imperfect life happening behind everything I create.
My pieces aren’t always perfect. Sometimes a petal is missing because my son was helping me. Sometimes there’s a bubble in the resin because my daughter decided she absolutely needed to stick her tiny finger in it. Sometimes something just doesn’t turn out exactly how I imagined it would.
But perfection doesn’t exist, and I’ve stopped pretending it needs to.
Those little imperfections are part of the story. They’re proof that these pieces weren’t made on an assembly line or in some perfectly curated studio. They were made by me, usually surrounded by flowers, children, chaos, probably several unfinished projects, and a whole lot of love.
Someone else can press the same flower or pour the same resin, but they can’t put my story into it. I think that’s what truly sets Lavender Sage apart.
What are your plans for the future?
What are my plans for the future? Oh goodness.
The simple answer? Surviving.
I used to be a big planner. I wanted to know what was happening next, where I was going, what the plan was after that, and probably the backup plan too. But I’ve learned that putting that much pressure on myself creates more anxiety than excitement. I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that sometimes things just happen. Sometimes the plan changes completely, and sometimes I think that’s the universe’s way of trying to show me something, teach me something, or push me somewhere I never would have gone on my own.
Lavender Sage certainly wasn’t part of some grand plan. Neither was opening Wildflowers Collective. Yet somehow, here I am.
So right now, I’m allowing myself to have small plans instead of one giant plan for my entire future.
I hope to keep Lavender Sage growing. I hope to keep Wildflowers Collective’s doors open and continue growing it into the kind of place I dreamed it could be—a place where small artists and makers feel like their work deserves to be seen, because it does. I want to keep creating, experimenting, meeting people, making mistakes, learning from them, and seeing where all of this takes me.
Of course I have little ideas tucked away in my brain. I don’t think the creative part of me would ever allow that to stop. But I’m trying not to put so much pressure on what everything has to become.
I’m learning to be proud of where I am while still being excited about where I might go.
But more than the businesses, the art, the store, or whatever else the future decides to bring me, what I look forward to the most is watching my littles grow.
I get to watch their personalities develop, their interests change, their ideas get bigger, and see who they become. I get to make things beside them, learn from them, cheer them on, and hopefully create a life where they always know that their ideas are worth exploring and that they are allowed to become exactly who they are meant to be.
Businesses can grow. Plans can change. Stores can open and close. Life can take everything you thought you had figured out and turn it completely upside down.
But my littles?
They are the forever.
And I think that’s the future I’m most proud to plan for.
Contact Info:
- Website: lavender.sage2025@gmail.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lavender.sage.creation?utm_source=qr
- Other: https://www.instagram.com/wildflowers.collective.shop?igsh=MTg2cHdrMmd4MmVicQ%253D%253D&utm_source=qr
