Today we’d like to introduce you to Melba Morel.
Hi Melba, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
Creativity has always been how I survived. Growing up, I didn’t always have the words, but I had my hands. I would remake my outfits, knit scarves, and fill journals with quiet thoughts I didn’t speak out loud. That was my outlet. It was how I processed the world when it felt too heavy to carry.
I was born in the Dominican Republic and raised in the U.S. by my adoptive mother, a young and determined woman who brought me here to build something better for both of us. We lived in a predominantly white town with my stepfather and his daughters during the week, but my weekends were filled with loud family gatherings with my Dominican aunts, cousins, music, food, and love. I existed between two very different worlds, often feeling like I belonged to both and neither at the same time.
That feeling of being in between took on a deeper meaning later in life when I was told I couldn’t have children.
In a culture that celebrates fertility and where womanhood is often tied to motherhood, infertility can feel like erasure. I come from a big family. In my thirties, I took a DNA test and discovered my biological father along with more than ten siblings, most of whom have children. I’ve always been surrounded by life. And yet, I found myself carrying a grief I couldn’t name. A grief that no one around me really talked about, especially not in our community.
So I turned to what had always been there. My creativity. My writing.
What began as private poems became pages. Those pages became a book. And that book, Unplanted Yet Flourishing, became a space for women like me. Women who feel unseen, unspoken for, and quietly grieving something the world doesn’t always acknowledge.
Writing this book wasn’t just about healing. It was about becoming.
That’s how Poetic Nectar Collective began. Not as a business, but as a space. A place for women who are seeking connection and comfort through creative expression. Through reflective writing sessions, growing kit classes, nature walks, and small community gatherings, I’ve been building the very thing I needed — a soft landing place rooted in truth, creativity, and healing.
This is not just my story. It belongs to so many of us. To the women holding invisible grief. To those who feel left out of conversations about motherhood, identity, and worth. To anyone searching for a way to bloom, even in unexpected soil.
You are not alone. I’m here. We’re here. And we’re healing together.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
The path has never been linear and it hasn’t always been easy. But through every detour, I’ve been learning how to come home to myself.
After writing Unplanted Yet Flourishing, I realized just how much of my story has been shaped by things I never spoke about out loud. Growing up as an adoptee in a world where I often felt caught between cultures and identities, I learned early on what it means to feel like you don’t fully belong. That quiet in-betweenness stayed with me. It mirrored the silence I later experienced around infertility.
Infertility was a grief I wasn’t prepared for. In my culture, womanhood is often tied to motherhood, and when I was told I couldn’t have children, I didn’t just mourn the idea of a child. I mourned the part of myself I felt I was losing. Surrounded by a big family where nearly everyone has children, the absence felt even louder. But it was a kind of grief that rarely gets acknowledged, especially in communities where those conversations are still considered taboo.
When my husband and I moved to Florida, we were searching for something softer. We wanted more nature, more calm, a chance to heal. But starting over came with its own weight. I had to rebuild my sense of connection and purpose from the ground up. I struggled to find aligned work and felt the impact of that deeply, emotionally and financially. There were moments I truly questioned whether my path was going to lead anywhere.
Still, it was in those quiet, uncertain spaces that my voice began to take root. I wrote poems, and then those poems became pages. Eventually, those pages became a book that helped me begin to heal and helped me create something for other women too. Through all the challenges, I’ve learned that the parts of me I used to hide are actually the most powerful. They are why I write. They are why I hold space through Poetic Nectar Collective. And they are why I keep going.
Because even when things feel unspoken or invisible, we still deserve to be seen. And I’m learning that being seen in our softness, in our pain, in our becoming is the bravest thing we can offer the world.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
My work lives at the intersection of creativity, healing, and storytelling. I’m a poet, a certified yoga practitioner, and a Reiki practitioner, but above all, I’m someone who holds space. For softness, for grief, for growth, and for women to feel seen.
What I’m most proud of is my book, Unplanted Yet Flourishing. It was born from my own experience with infertility, a deeply personal and often invisible grief that many women carry in silence. The book is a collection of poetry that moves through pain, reflection, and healing. It’s raw, it’s vulnerable, and it was written to be a companion for anyone navigating loss, especially the kind we’re taught to keep hidden. I wanted it to feel like sitting with a friend who doesn’t need you to explain everything, who simply understands.
That desire to create connection is also what inspired Poetic Nectar Collective. It’s more than a brand. It’s a growing space rooted in community and creative healing. Through workshops, movement, and storytelling, I’m creating offerings that invite people back to themselves. Whether it’s through writing prompts, nature-based gatherings, or small group circles, my goal is to provide gentle tools for women to reconnect with their voice and their worth.
What sets my work apart is that it’s deeply lived. It comes from a place of truth, not performance. I don’t teach or share from a pedestal. I’m in it too. Every poem, every class, every workshop is an extension of my own journey toward wholeness. I believe that’s why people connect with what I do. Because it’s not polished or perfect. It’s real. It’s human. And it makes space for others to be the same.
What’s next?
Right now, I’m in a season of planting. I’m focused on deepening the roots of Poetic Nectar Collective and expanding what it can offer as a healing-centered space. I want to continue leading workshops that blend writing, mindfulness, movement, and community, especially for women navigating grief, identity shifts, or simply needing a place to feel heard.
Since moving to Florida, I’ve been actively working to build community from the ground up. Being new to the area has made it challenging, but it’s also pushed me to be intentional. I’m currently focused on connecting with local women, creatives, and wellness spaces that align with the mission behind my work. I believe in slow, meaningful growth, the kind that’s rooted in trust, shared values, and real connection.
I’m also working on bringing my book, Unplanted Yet Flourishing, into more hands, more bookstores, and more healing spaces. I plan to connect with local boutiques, therapy offices, yoga studios, and creative communities that reflect the heart of the book. I want it to live where real conversations happen.
In the future, I hope to launch nature-based events that reflect the rhythm of the seasons. Writing circles outdoors, bike rides with intention, and creative gatherings rooted in expression and community. I’m exploring ways to make Poetic Nectar Collective not just a name, but a movement that grows alongside others who are healing and creating too.
Everything I do is with the hope of reminding women that they are not alone. That their stories matter. That beauty and strength can still bloom from pain. And I plan to keep showing up for that mission in every way I can.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://poetic-nectar-collective.company.site/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/poeticnectarcollective/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61577125288669
Image Credits
Giovanni Rodriguez
