I Said Everything Was Fine
For a long time, I told people everything was fine.
It was my job.
I worked in sales—inside a system I now know was already failing.
I was the one who smiled, followed up, gave the tour, and helped families feel okay about decisions that, behind the scenes, were far more complicated than anyone wanted to admit. And I did it well. I believed in the work. I believed in helping people.
I brought my kids into it, too.
The holidays were always special in the retirement community.
Residents lit up. Staff worked hard to make it meaningful.
And every year, I’d bring my kids to trick-or-treat through the hallways on Halloween.
I wanted them to know older people. To feel the connection. To be part of something.
And for a while, I believed everything really was fine.
Because when you love the people, it’s hard to question the system around them.
I started to see things differently when I served on the board at the Plant Home.
Inside the building, I saw care. I saw good people making decisions with residents in mind.
But something felt off—not inside the home, but in how the outside world responded.
There was a disconnect between what the community stood for and how quietly it was being left behind.
At the time, I didn’t have the full picture. But I knew enough to feel it.
And once you really see it, you don’t go back.
Eventually, I stepped out.
Not because I stopped caring—but because I couldn’t keep saying everything was fine when I knew it wasn’t.
I don’t sell buildings anymore.
I sell maps.
Maps for families trying to make sense of chaos.
Maps for people doing the right thing with limited information and impossible pressure.
Maps I wish someone had handed me when I first stepped into this work.
And now?
I find myself back in some of the same systems.
Not to play along. Not to stay quiet.
But because this is where the decisions are being made.
And the silence around places like the Plant Home says a lot.
I said it was fine for years.
But I’m not saying it anymore.
I’m here to build something better—and help others find their way through what’s already breaking.
—Kaitlyn Cunningham Morse
Founder, Maine Aging Partners