I am more than the roles I play. More than what I do. More than any title, offering, or label.

That truth? It lives in every woman I work with, too. We get so used to describing ourselves by what we do, how we serve, or who we support… but the deeper question is:

Who are you really?
Who are you without the pressure, without the performance, without the proving?

I asked myself that question and  I remembered.

You can’t outgrow what you’re not willing to uproot. Clearing the surface might feel productive, but surface work doesn’t hold.

It’s the root work—the messy, slow, honest work—that actually shifts your life.
The kind of work that asks you to stay with it, even when it’s uncomfortable.

You are not the emotion.
You’re the one experiencing it.
And there’s so much freedom in that knowing.

I’ve spent so many years seeking external validation. Chasing the “right” thing to do. Wanting to be seen. To be chosen. To be acknowledged in the way I show up for others.

And I’ve done the work to untangle that.
Layer by layer, I’ve let go of needing approval.
But this time… it hit differently.

Recently, I shared a post about the Black Dot—a simple but powerful reminder of how easy it is to fixate on the problem, the flaw, the thing that feels heavy... and forget about the wide open space of possibility that’s always surrounding it.

It’s funny how life layers these lessons, because not long ago, a memory surfaced for me—one that brought it all full circle.

Growth rarely arrives wrapped up in certainty. It moves quietly, underneath the surface, while we’re letting go of what no longer fits. And if you’re not paying attention, you might miss the moment when it finally clicks.

Not everyone can meet you where you are. And that’s okay.

Some people don’t have the same capacity.
Some are doing their best, even if it doesn’t land the way you hoped. And some just move differently—and that’s not personal.

One of the biggest shifts I’ve made is this: I’ve stopped expecting people to operate like me.

Here’s the truth bomb that hit me this week: Are you interested in your goals… or are you committed to them?

Being interested is easy. It feels good in the moment. It lives in your screenshots and vision board. But being committed? That takes choosing. Showing up. Taking the next small step—even when it’s not exciting anymore.

Saying “I’m proud of you” can carry this tiny thread of hierarchy… like I’m looking down on someone rather than standing with them. It places me in the role of evaluator, even when my heart is just bursting with love and admiration.

I used to think fear meant stop. That shaky feeling in my chest? That voice in my head whispering, What if you fail? The tension in my body telling me to back off? It all felt like a warning—like something was wrong. Like I wasn’t ready.

For so long, I searched for answers outside of myself. I thought if I just learned from the right person, followed the right framework, found the right mentor, then finally I’d have the clarity, confidence, and direction I was looking for.

For so long, I searched for answers outside of myself. I thought if I just learned from the right person, followed the right framework, found the right mentor, then finally I’d have the clarity, confidence, and direction I was looking for.

I don’t believe in forcing gratitude for things that broke us. But I do believe in staying open to the possibility that one day, we’ll see how even the hardest moments carried something for us.

You never know where your path will take you. But I do know this: You can’t hear your own wisdom if you don’t get quiet enough to listen.

If you argue for your limitations, you get to keep them. We know when we’re holding onto stories that keep us small. But here’s the thing: Recognizing it is the first step to releasing it.

Loving yourself isn’t just about treating yourself to nice things (though, hey, I’m all for that). It’s about the way you speak to yourself, the boundaries you set, the way you honor your needs without guilt. It’s about choosing yourself—not as an afterthought, but as a priority.

What do you do on the days when you just don’t feel good—when motivation is nowhere to be found and everything feels a little… off?

We talk a lot about leadership—at work, in our families, in our communities—but how often do we think about leading ourselves?

I was working with a client recently, and she kept focusing on what wasn’t getting done—how she was falling short here, missing something there. Sound familiar?

I had a moment of clarity I couldn’t wait to share because, even though I teach this work, it still sneaks up on me sometimes.

This week, I sat down to do something I’d been putting off for months—a task I told myself I “didn’t need to worry about” because, oh, I’ve got time. Sound familiar?