Bailey Hutchins Is Gone. And Suddenly, My Excuses Feel Pathetic.
Courtesy of Bailey Hutchins/Instagram
My nervous system was fried. My life felt like a browser with too many tabs open, and the only thing that felt remotely like relief was re-downloading TikTok.
That’s when I found her.
The kind of girl who stops you mid-scroll. The kind of girl who makes you pause, squint at the screen, and whisper, who is she? Like you’d just spotted an old Hollywood starlet reincarnated in a 26-year-old with an effortless aura and a presence that made even pouring iced matcha look cinematic. She moved through life like she was floating slightly above the rest of us. A little untouchable. A little magic.
And then I found out she was dying.
Stage four colon cancer. Her body was at war with itself, being nuked by medicine designed to save her, and yet there she was, glowing. Still sipping matcha in soft morning light. Still filming GRWMs like she wasn’t getting handwritten letters from mortality itself.
I followed her immediately. Because I was captivated, yes. But also because I believed in her.
She had to make it. She was too her not to.
And then last week, she was gone.
I stared at my screen for what felt like hours, waiting for a punchline that never came. Because surely—surely—someone who shone that brightly didn’t just go out.
But cancer doesn’t play fair.
Her husband, Caden, the man who had been by her side through every hospital stay, every gut-wrenching scan, announced her passing on February 8, 2025. She took her last breath surrounded by family. He called her the love of his life. A soul unlike any other. And I believe him.
Because Bailey wasn’t just another TikTok creator. She wasn’t a trend-chaser or a viral-sound lip-syncer or another influencer shilling products with dead eyes. She was real—in the way people beg others to be but almost never are.
She didn’t make her grief palatable, didn’t package her suffering into something aesthetic between affiliate links and brand deals. She let people see it—the raw, ugly, terrifying reality of fighting for your life. And somehow, even in the hardest parts, she radiated a quiet kind of grace.
She didn’t let cancer dictate the mood of the room. It was just a thing happening to her body—not her.
And now, she’s this ache in my chest. This reminder humming in the background of everything.
Because the truth is, I’ve wasted time.
Wasted so much of it. On stress. On relationships that drained me. On toxic jobs, toxic people, toxic cycles I kept going back to like a bad habit. On letting anxiety run my life. On convincing myself I had time—to get better, to start over, to finally be happy.
But I don’t. None of us do.
Bailey should still be here.
And if she couldn’t stay, then at the very least, I owe it to her—to myself—to stop sleepwalking through my life. To stop making excuses. To stop waiting for one day.
To live.
Like she did.
5 Lessons We Can Learn from Bailey Hutchins
Stop Waiting for the “Right Time”
There’s always a reason to put things off. The timing isn’t perfect. The stars haven’t aligned. But here’s the truth: waiting is just another way of saying no to yourself. Bailey didn’t wait. She went after what she wanted—no permission slip required.
So take the trip. Make the change. Walk away from what’s weighing you down. The right time? It’s now.
Romanticize Your Life—Even in the Hard Moments
Bailey had this way of making life feel like a movie. Not because it was flawless, but because she paid attention. The way morning light spills onto a kitchen floor. The perfect song at the perfect moment. That first sip of coffee, the way someone laughs with their whole chest.
You don’t need grand gestures to make life beautiful. It already is. You just have to notice.
Take Care of Your Health Like It’s the Most Valuable Thing You Own
Because it is. Stress? It seeps into your bones. Toxic people? They drain you faster than you realize. Bailey understood this—how your body keeps score, how your mind needs space, how your energy is a currency.
Protect your peace. Set the boundary. Walk away from anything that costs you more than it gives.
Make Ordinary Things Feel Like a Movie Scene
Not in a “main character” way, but in a pay attention way. Bailey could turn a late-night drive into a moment you’d never forget. She knew the power of good music, the thrill of a last-minute decision, the way certain places feel like they hold pieces of your past self.
Find the magic in the in-between moments. They’re the ones that matter most.
Learn to Sit in Discomfort—It’s Where the Growth Happens
Bailey never ran from the hard stuff. She faced it—messy, uncomfortable, gut-wrenching—and came out on the other side better. Stronger. More her.
We spend so much time avoiding discomfort—scrolling, numbing, pretending we’re fine. But real change happens when you sit in it, let it shape you, and trust that you won’t break.
