If you've been around West Coast Wildflowers for a while, you know this business was never just about retail.
It was built during one of the hardest seasons of my life.
After 156 days in the NICU, navigating critical care for both my son and myself, I found myself searching for something that felt grounding. I was learning how to love my beautiful son while also carrying the anxiety of a completely new reality.
At the same time, my transplanted kidney took a significant hit, losing approximately 20% of its function. For context, my kidney transplant was functioning at about 50%, so that decline brought me closer to 40% overall kidney function—a reminder that health can change in an instant and that life often asks us to adapt when we're least prepared.
West Coast Wildflowers became my way of coping.

It became a place where I could dream while exhausted. A place where I could create while grieving expectations. A place where I could reconnect with myself while learning entirely new versions of motherhood, health, and resilience.
And wow, have there been lessons.
There were moments I wish I had trusted my instincts sooner. Times I wish I had fired faster when cultural and personal boundaries were crossed. Times I wish I had said "no" more often instead of stretching myself thin trying to help everyone.
But alongside those lessons came something I never expected. Community.
For years, Campbell River was essentially my office. Long before COVID made remote work common, I spent seven years working largely in isolation. I was craving connection without fully realizing how much I needed it. Then West Coast Wildflowers happened.
Suddenly I was surrounded by coastal people. People who love the ocean. People raising children. Mothers with big dreams. Artists. Makers. Storytellers. Friends.
This little space became so much more than a business. It became a gathering place where conversations happened, ideas were born, artwork was celebrated, and friendships were formed. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.
Which brings me to the next chapter.
West Coast Wildflowers will be joining a new downtown space alongside RavenSong Soap & Candle. The vision is smaller, more intentional, and deeply rooted in the things that matter most to me: gifting, storytelling, community, motherhood, and meaningful connection. Less "bringing the city to Campbell River."
More embracing the intimate, creative, coastal-island feeling that makes Campbell River so special in the first place.
A space where every product has a story.
A space where conversations matter.
A space that feels like home.
And while we're talking about gratitude, there is one person I could never tell this story without. My husband, Cody Assu.

I am so incredibly proud of him.
He's an extraordinary father, steady in ways that balance my energy perfectly. Calm when life feels chaotic. Thoughtful when decisions feel overwhelming. I often joke that I fell in love with him all over again when I realized how intentionally he visited his grandmothers five or six days a week. Family wasn't something he talked about—it was something he practiced.
That has shaped the life we're building together.
One thing we've always believed as partners and friends is that careers come in seasons. Sometimes one person leads while the other supports. Then you switch. When Cody was fishing, I supported his dreams. Then he supported mine through West Coast Wildflowers, Bear Essential Oils, RavenSong Soap & Candle, and Little Wildflowers.
For nearly six years, he has stood beside me while I built businesses and communities.
Now it's my turn.
Cody is the skipper of the Haida Girl, a seine vessel passed down through generations of his family. The boat carries more than fish—it carries history, culture, family legacy, and a connection to the ocean that has provided for generations. Watching him step further into that role has reminded me of what matters most.

Family.
Culture.
Community.
Purpose.
The ocean.
As we move into this next season, I'm excited to find new ways to support his work, his vision, and the future opportunities that exist on our coastal waters.
This isn't an ending. It's a shift. A smaller footprint. A more intentional pace. A deeper connection to what we value most.
Thank you for being part of this journey. Thank you for supporting our businesses, sharing your stories, attending events, shopping local, and believing in the vision.
The next chapter may look different, but it feels exactly right.
With gratitude,
Ali Assu
P.s. Did you know that Ali's real name is Alissa (Ah-lee-sah). Her father in law Ted Assu, called her Ali D and decided she was exhausted from correcting people to her name that she one day just reffered to herself as Ali.
West Coast Wildflowers
Vancouver Island, BC Canada