I chose the name Ivy Rowan with intention.
Ivy grows where it is planted… even in the cracks of stone.
It doesn’t demand attention. It doesn’t bloom loudly.
It climbs slowly, steadily, toward the light.
That is how my healing has looked.
Sobriety wasn’t a grand announcement.
It was quiet mornings.
Treadmill miles.
Burn letters read out loud to myself.
Hard boundaries.
Choosing peace when chaos once felt familiar.
I have learned to grow without rushing myself.
To root instead of run.
To keep climbing, even when no one is clapping.
Rowan is protection.
The rowan tree has long symbolized strength and guardianship… planted near homes to protect what mattered most.
That part of the name represents the woman I am becoming…
the one who protects her peace,
who honors her boundaries,
who no longer hands access to anyone who knocks.
It also speaks to my work with animals.
Every day I care for dogs or cats who have been abandoned, misunderstood, or hardened by survival. I watch them relearn safety. I watch them soften. I watch them trust again.
Healing isn’t loud for them either.
It’s steady.
It’s patient.
It’s built through consistency and protection.
In many ways, I see myself in them.
Ivy is resilience.
Rowan is protection.
Together, they are growth with boundaries.
Softness with strength.
Healing without self-abandonment.
This name is not an escape from who I was.
It is an evolution of her.
I am still Maxci.
But when I write as Ivy Rowan, I am writing from the most rooted, steady, intentional version of myself.
And she is here to stay.
– Ivy Rowan 