Have you ever stopped to notice that becoming an adult isn’t really about gaining new knowledge but about unlearning the old? Everything you were shown, everything passed down to you by the people who raised you, everything absorbed from the world you grew up in: at some point, you start holding it up to the light and asking, does this actually fit who I am?

That’s not a complaint toward the people who shaped you. They gave you what they had. What they knew. What they genuinely believed was best for you. And maybe a lot of it was. But some of it belonged to their lives, not yours and the longer you carry it, the more it starts to feel foreign and quite heavy.

There’s a line that continues to replay itself in my head and its so relevant to my life right now, and in pretty much every decision I’ve made up until this point and its this:

I had to do it to realize I didn't want to do it.

Maybe you had to date that person to realize they weren't right for you. Maybe you had to move to that city, take that job, start that business, not because it was the answer, but because doing it was the only way to find out.

I know this because I lived it, over and over again.

I had a moment this past week after a quick hop over to Vancouver to visit my sister that made me approach who I was giving my time and energy too.

I decided not to bring my laptop, just one overnight bag full of the necessities. I decided ahead of time that didn’t want anyone to have access to my time or energy while I was giving it to time with my sister. I honestly don’t even remember the last time I didn’t bring my laptop while I was away from home.

I told my clients ahead of time: I’m unavailable Monday and Tuesday.

Not “I’ll check in when I can.”
Not “text me if it’s urgent.”

And I meant it.

Basically, because you don't stay in one place and we need someone committed. I just moved here like 5 minutes ago, of course I didn’t know If I would like it, not enough time had passed for me to even see anything. 

So, because my relationship ended, because there was a pandemic and because the house we were living in was selling and we moved, I wasn’t getting the job.

Ouch! That hits deep to a girl who has a proven track record of not being chosen for something.

There's a theme that keeps coming up,  you hear it everywhere. People standing on stages, writing books, sharing their stories of having it all. 

The big house, the relationship, the salary, the status. Everything looked good on the outside. But on the inside, they were crumbling. Unstable. Unhappy.

I mean, I wrote a whole book about my version.

Why do we keep hearing this same story?

I think it's because we've been conditioned to chase. To strive for more, for better, for bigger. To want what looks good because what looks good is what gets us that stamp of approval. It's how we show people we've made it. That we've earned it. It's the validation we so desperately need just to feel good about ourselves and how we got there.

I was in a car accident recently. No one was hurt, thankfully, but both vehicles clearly had damage. And in the seconds after it happened, I had no idea how either of us was going to respond.

You don't, really. You don't know how you'll show up when something stressful happens and catches you off guard. And you definitely don't know what you're walking toward when the other person opens their car door.

What I was met with opened up something light inside me.

She got out of her car. We looked at each other. And she hugged me.

Are you okay?

Yes. Are you okay?

After years of working with professionals, business owners, and large companies, I can spot it from a mile away: The squirrel brains. And it's costing you so much more than you think.

This is the first thing we covered in my last workshop and it wasn't by accident. In all my years working with professionals and entrepreneurs, one theme consistently shows up: we are overwhelmed and tired not because we have too much to do, but because we can't stop letting the wrong things in, at the wrong times.

You already have a full plate. Actually, its probably even overflowing. And your plate never gets empty because you never stop adding to it. You keep piling on tasks, commitments, meetings you don’t need, and obligations that don’t require all your time. And nothing ever comes off. So the pile just grows, and you wonder why you feel forever behind. Its too heavy, and frankly looks ridiculous.

I've been to the Jade Resort twice now. Actually, as I write that, I'm a little disappointed in myself, twice isn't nearly enough. My first visit was a solo birthday trip with my 1 year old puppy, Ruby. The second, just recently, we came as a family: me, my husband Kurt, and our two German Shepherds.

That trip confirmed something I'd been quietly suspecting: we are different people when we let ourselves slow down.

There's a moment we've all lived through. You know what you need to do. The path is right there. And yet nothing happens. Days pass. Then weeks. The thing you want stays exactly where it was, waiting, while you circle it endlessly from a distance.

This isn't laziness. It isn't a lack of ambition. It's something far more common, and far more human: you're stalling. You're finding reasons to delay the decision that would actually move you forward.

And underneath all the reasons, ‘the timing isn't right’, ‘I need to research more’, ‘I'm almost ready’, there's usually one root cause. Fear.

Most people aren’t bad at social media. They just try to sell before anyone has a reason to care.

They show up when they want something.
They post the graphic.
They write “limited spots.”
They drop the link.
And then they disappear.

And when it doesn’t sell? They assume the algorithm failed them.

But, if you really think about it, you didn’t build any belief before asking for the sale.

Let’s think about this clearly and honestly, how do you buy things?

When you’re scrolling and you see a graphic for an event or a product, what do you do?

You skim through, maybe you squint at it.
If it doesn’t immediately make sense, you move on, yes?