Have you ever sat down with a reflection question and thought… this just doesn’t fit? Sometimes it’s not that the question is wrong, but it’s just that the deeper truth is hiding underneath, waiting for you to uncover it.

That happened to me recently with a prompt I was working through on my plant medicine journey: “What part of me is still trying to prove my worth?”

I didn’t know what I was saying yes to when I borrowed that paddleboard. I just knew I needed some space. Some water. Some perspective.

I didn’t have a plan. I just knew it was the right move for me that day, Lionsgate portal and all.

Usually my walks are sacred space. Time to listen to music or a podcast, or just take in the quiet. I use them to reset and drop into presence. But not this time.

We stopped, and I assumed she just peed, so I kept walking (cause you know, distracted). Then I heard it –  “Really? REALLY?!”

That voice in your head, the one narrating your worth, your choices, your circumstances, is writing the script for your entire experience.

Wanna know the wild part? Your mind doesn’t know the difference between fact and fiction.

Healing isn’t about chasing the one moment, the one answer, the one thing you think will “do it” for you. It’s about all the little layers along the way.

Trust is about softening your grip. Letting go of the “what ifs” and choosing to believe that whatever is unfolding is for your highest good—even when you can’t see how yet.

Because when you’re gripping so tightly, trying to control every detail, you miss the beauty that was right there waiting for you in the moments.

We all have patterns we can’t see because we’ve lived inside them for too long.
We normalize our coping. We justify our hesitations.
We tell ourselves we’re fine when we’re actually stuck in a loop.

This is your gentle invitation to check in.
To honor what’s been. To ask what’s still true.
To release what’s no longer needed to make space for what is to become.

Because sometimes the most powerful thing we can do isn’t to start something new, it’s to lovingly, consciously say:  “I’m done with this part and that’s okay.”

 Let’s talk about freedom. The kind that no holiday can give you.

I’m talking about the kind you claim for yourself.
The kind that happens when you start letting go of the weight that was never yours to carry.

The weight of judgment.
The pressure to get it all “right.”
The need to be what others expect instead of who you are.

To me, that’s real independence.

What if redefining rest is actually the most radical self-leadership move you could make this week?

Lately, I’ve caught myself spiraling in a kind of pressure that wasn’t even real. Manufactured. Created by my own expectations.

 It was a sign that I wasn’t in self-trust. That I was slipping into shame. That my nervous system was flaring up with “not enough.” And I needed to pause. To breathe. To choose the tone of compassion—not survival.

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.