I received an invitation to attend an event. I quickly and happily accepted
I almost didn’t go.

But we did. We got dressed, drove there, walked into Ulta, and for about two
minutes I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. A room full of possibility.
Then my son wanted me to pick him up. I knew immediately something was bothering him because he likes to walk. I looked around and saw the scary Halloween costumes. We left immediately.
My son needed me.
There was no debate. We walked back out
into the parking lot still holding the phone cause I was ready to create content and we sat in the car for a minute.

Part of me felt the sting of leaving for about 3 seconds. The other part felt completely certain. Mama first. Everything else second.
There will be other invites. I hope.
What did we do instead? Played at the park. ate snacks. And he took an early nap.

Hereās the part that I havenāt said aloud.
I’m in the middle of a career change, and it’s
different from anything I’ve done before. Not completely but I know itās what Iām supposed to be doing. It just feels right. I’m not ready to tell you what it is yet.
I will. But I wanted you to know it’s real, it’s happening, and I feel likes itās one of the
reasons I received an invite at all.
It’s also the reason I’m learning something uncomfortable: when you’re rebuilding quietly, you don’t get to be everywhere. You miss some rooms. You leave some early. You say no to things that look good on paper, because your kid needs you, or your body needs rest, or you simply don’t have another ounce to give that day.
I used to think that meant I was falling behind when I said no. Now I think it’s just what building in silence looks like. You canāt be everywhere. You canāt do everything. And everyone isnāt going to like you because of it.
While all of this is happening, I’m also working on something for perimenopause. I’m not
going to tell you exactly what it is yet. It’s not a workout, and it’s not another thing to add to your to-do list. It’s something I wish I’d had on the hard days. Which brings me to the part where I need your help.
Can I ask you something?
If something existed that made perimenopause days a little easier, would you want to hear
about it?
And more importantly: what’s the one thing about perimenopause you wish had a better
solution?
It can be big or small. The 3am wake-up. The brain fog mid-sentence. The way your body
suddenly runs hot in the middle of a normal Tuesday. Whatever comes to mind first is
probably the thing worth telling me.
You can leave a comment below or reply to my email.
What happens next
When I’m ready to share what I’m working on, you’ll hear it here first. Until then, I’ll keep
showing up the way I always do: early in the morning, in my living room, no ring light, doing the work quietly. Bringing you along with me.
If youāre looking for a place to start, the Starter Guide is made exactly for that moment. You can get it right here. šš¾
Build in silence. Show up for yourself.
P.S. If you’re curious what I’m using for my early-morning workouts, I keep everything I love in one place: my ShopMy page. (This is an affiliate link, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.)















