There’s nothing to figure out. Just notice what this question stirs in you, see where it leads and if you feel drawn to, share what comes up for you. 💜 I'll go first... The part of me that needs rest. The part of me that wants to be nurtured. The part of me that wants an environment that aligns with me where I can breath and not be overstimulated. It's requiring me to step even more into trust that the next best place is already waiting for me and all I need to do is to have faith, align with it's calling me and take inspired steps along the way, including getting more rest.

For the last few days, I’ve been trying to find words for something that doesn’t really have words. It’s more of an energy than a thought. More of a feeling than an experience I can easily explain. It’s funny because I make my living helping women put language to what they’re experiencing, yet here I am struggling to explain what’s been happening inside me. The closest I can come is this…I’m just different. It feels like something that had been quietly taking up space inside me just isn’t there anymore. Not in a dramatic lightning bolt kind of way. It feels much more subtle than that. Lighter. More spacious. Almost like there had always been a low hum running in the background of my life. I couldn’t hear it because it had been there for so long. I didn’t even know it existed. But once it stopped, I realized how much energy it had been consuming. I feel untethered. Free. My circumstances didn’t change, but something inside me did. In my last article I described the depth of it and it’s proven to be something much bigger than I understood while I was in it. It felt like emotional surgery and it wasn’t just one day. For days afterward, I was still experiencing the aftershocks of the volcano that blew. I couldn’t stop crying. My nervous system was recalibrating. Even now, I’m still noticing little updates happening in my body. But underneath all of that… There’s space. And permission I’ve never really given myself before. Permission to live for myself. Permission to be myself on a different level. I can’t stop thinking about how much of my life was shaped, not by what I consciously knew, but by what was living underneath the surface of my awareness. Maybe you’ve felt that too. Maybe you’ve had seasons where you couldn’t explain why everything felt so hard. Why moving forward took so much effort. Why you knew what you wanted, but something invisible always seemed to pull you back. Sometimes before we can hold what’s next, life has a way of creating the space for it first.

Notice what this question stirs in you, see where it leads and if you feel drawn to, share what comes up for you. 💜 I'll go first... In last week's article I talked about this very thing. I broke open the realization that a lot of my life was driven by living as though my life didn't belong to me. It took me DAYS of further digging, crying, asking questions and looking and listening to work through all of the layers of this to be able to get to the place where I feel like I can now start living differently. For me only. Free. Untethered. Can't wait to see where this leads!

Yesterday, something unexpected happened during a breathwork session my older daughter Jordan was leading. I’ve done a lot of healing over the years. I’ve cried, forgiven, released, and untangled stories I once thought I’d carry forever. So I wasn’t expecting another layer to reveal itself. But it did. The theme of the session was ownership. During one of the deeper breathing rounds, Jordan offered a prompt that opened something in me. What came through next landed with such clarity: I realized I wasn’t living as though my life belonged to me. I had never thought those words before. At least not consciously. But the moment they came through, I knew they were true. Somewhere deep inside, I’d been living as though I owed my life to my mother because she chose to keep me. It wasn’t a thought I carried around every day. It was much quieter than that. It was an unconscious belief that had woven itself into so many of my choices, my hesitation, and the guilt I’d carried without even realizing it. For those of you who know parts of my story, you’ll understand why that realization runs so deep. It isn’t about blame, and it certainly isn’t about loving my mother any less. It was simply the moment I recognized a story that had been quietly shaping my life under the surface. Yesterday, I reclaimed my life. Even writing those words still feels tender. Not because something changed outside of me, but because something shifted inside me. For the first time, I wasn’t just intellectually understanding that my life was my own. I actually felt it. And as it came through, I realized just how important it really was. Jordan was leading the session and Jess, my younger daughter, was also there. It wasn’t just a personal healing moment. It was a generational healing one. It got me wondering how many ways we unknowingly hand ownership of our lives to someone else. Most of us don’t even realize we’re doing it. Sometimes it’s a parent. Sometimes it’s a partner, our children, a career, a religion, or the expectations of people we love. Sometimes it’s even an old version of ourselves that we’ve outgrown but still feel obligated to keep being.