A LIFE WRITTEN IN HER OWN WORDS
Elara June Whitcombe
(née Rowan)
March 12, 1984
D
Death arrives for all of us eventually - sometimes with warning, sometimes like a quiet visitor slipping in through an unlocked door. Knowing that truth, I chose to write my own story while I was still here to tell it. Not in the templated format we’ve all grown used to, but in my own voice, with my own honesty, in the way I lived: imperfectly, passionately, and fully awake to the meaning tucked inside ordinary days.
CHILDHOOD & IMAGINATION
As a child, I lived mostly in my imagination. I loved to laugh, to sing, to create worlds out of scraps of paper and borrowed costumes. I was the kid who built kingdoms out of cardboard boxes and believed wholeheartedly in magic. When school demanded structure, I escaped into the soft, boundless places in my mind - the only place where I felt entirely understood.
LONELINESS & MUSIC
Making friends never came easily. I was awkward, overly sensitive, and often alone. My school years were marked by the kind of quiet cruelty children don’t realize they’re capable of. I spent many afternoons hiding in the library or wandering the edges of the playground, wondering where I belonged. It was during those lonely years that I discovered music - my first true refuge. I begged for a second‑hand keyboard and spent hours with headphones on, letting melodies drown out the noise of the world. Artists like Sarah McLachlan, Celine Dion, and Evanescence became my companions when real ones were scarce.
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CREATIVITY & EXPRESSION
When I wasn’t reading or writing, I was outside with a camera in hand, chasing light through the trees or photographing raindrops on windowpanes. I played my violin in open fields, especially on stormy days when the sound carried farther. I sang when no one was home, imagining myself on a stage, bathed in warm light. Creativity wasn’t a hobby — it was my lifeline.
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LOVE & GROWTH
As I grew older, I learned there were many ways to escape life. Some people drink or smoke or run. I escaped into love. I chased the feeling of being seen, heard, wanted — the high of connection. I loved with my whole heart, the way I wanted to be loved in return. And like all highs, the crash was inevitable. I learned that love can be intoxicating, but it can also be clarifying. It shows you who you are, what you fear, and what you’re still running from.
MOTHERHOOD
Motherhood changed everything. My two daughters — Arielle and Maeve — taught me a kind of love that didn’t demand performance or perfection. A love that was steady, soul‑deep, and transformative. Watching them grow into fierce, passionate, unapologetically themselves young women has been the greatest privilege of my life. We grew up together in many ways, and they taught me more about courage and tenderness than any book or mentor ever could.
LOVE, MARRIAGE & PARTNERSHIP
I married twice. My first marriage taught me resilience; my second taught me truth. Ian, thank you for the steadiness you brought into my life — for the years of partnership, for the laughter, for the lessons, and for the quiet ways you held space for me when the world felt too loud. We didn’t always agree, but we always tried. And that mattered.
A LIFE OF MANY EXPRESSIONS
In my twenties and thirties, I chased passion like it was oxygen. I wrote a book — imperfect but honest. I modelled for a time, gracing magazine covers and working with photographers who saw something in me I hadn’t yet seen in myself. Eventually, modelling gave way to acting, where I found a sense of belonging I’d been searching for since childhood. Whether I was background or lead, being on set felt like home. I loved the hum of creativity, the collaboration, the magic of storytelling.
WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT LIFE
My life was full — not always easy, not always graceful, but full. I lived through seasons of heartbreak, reinvention, joy, and deep introspection. I tried things simply because I wanted to know what it felt like to try. I failed often, succeeded sometimes, and learned constantly. I lived with curiosity, with intensity, and with a stubborn belief that life could always be reshaped.
IN THE END, I LEARNED
Love isn’t found in a single person or achievement. It’s found in the moments that light you up from the inside — singing in the kitchen, planting a garden, writing late into the night, travelling to places that shift your perspective, losing yourself in a conversation that changes you. That’s where the meaning lived for me.
