So I need to clue you in on something.  I am standing on the edge of a massive, life-altering ascension .   When I left my company to build my own practice,  I knew I was destined for more freedom and more money.   But I truly had no freaking idea how big of a quantum leap I was about to take — or how many women I’d be taking with me.   This year, I invested well into the five figures.  I shared stages with legendary leaders and broke bread with industry icons.    And, yet

So I have to tell you a story — part to s pill some tea and remind you that no, you weren’t the only one whose family triggered old wounds, and part because it’s a damn good reminder.   Let’s set the scene.   I drove 14 hours to go to Illinois for my favorite day of the year. My gorgeous aunt not only made a delicious assortment of treats, staples, and interesting additions to my favorite meal of the year, but she also surprised me with a birthday party for my 14 month old s

Women have been sold a brutal lie: that life is supposed to feel hard. That struggle builds character, sacrifice equals success, and wanting more makes you selfish. I see brilliant women gripping their lives by the edge, convinced this exhaustion is normal. But you never signed a blood pact with the universe. Changing your mind is not failure—it’s evolution. Desire is not indulgence—it’s intelligence. You’re not here to perform your life. You’re here to inhabit it—fully, loud

We only claim the identity once the result confirms it. Artist when it sells. Successful when the title hits. Beautiful when the mirror agrees. It’s intermittent reinforcement—like pulling a slot machine lever, chasing the rush and forgetting the losses. When we outsource our worth to outcomes we can’t fully control, we stay stuck chasing happiness instead of embodying it. Power returns the moment you decide who you are before the proof appears.

She stayed for almost twenty years because it “wasn’t bad enough to leave.” Not good—just tolerable. A spotless home. Smiling vacation photos. A life that looked fine from the outside while quietly draining her from within. Each time she lowered her expectations, she moved farther from herself. What she knows now is this: the cost of staying the same is far higher than the cost of change—and the distance between what she had and what she wanted was never as far as she believe

This week as I was driving my feral child to day care, I popped on an Audible to drown out another rendition of Wheels on The Bus … and I happened upon Malcolm Gladwel’s Outliers . (Sidebar: this has been on my list to read for years and it is not disappointing!)   But anyway , he reminded me something I have always been fascinated with: Did you know that studies show that you only need 10,000 hours to become a master at something? For context, that's roughly ten years.  

This week, I was doing what I do, scrolling on Facebook, and saw a friend post about his weight loss journey.    He looked f*cking fantastic.  It's why I stopped to look in the first place. But beyond even the obvious weight loss, the most noticeable thing about the “AFTER” photo was his big, beaming smile.   The caption told me that he had been showing up at the gym, focusing on his health, really doing the work. But tucked into his celebration post was an apology too- " I k

While it feels like two lifetimes ago, I can still remember lying in bed next to someone who was supposed to love me, who I was supposed to love back, staring at the ceiling, my body stiff with silence. The clock ticked. My chest was tight. And all I could think was:  why does this feel so heavy?   I told myself it was normal. That love was supposed to feel like work. That the pit in my stomach was just the cost of partnership.   But here’s what I know now: 👉 Love shouldn’t

She sat across from me this week and said something I’ll never forget: “My divorce cost over $100K—and it’s the best money I will ever spend.” She wasn’t celebrating the ending of a marriage. She was naming the true cost of settling—the nights she pretended she was fine, the intimacy that felt like obligation, the slow erosion of her standards and self. That money bought her freedom, breath, mornings without dread, joy without rationing.

No one told me it would happen this way.   Not in one dramatic moment, but in a thousand tiny asks: ✨ Smile when you don’t feel like it. ✨ Say yes when your body screams no. ✨ Don’t rock the boat. Don’t want too much. Don’t be too much.   And so I started handing over little pieces of myself. One compromise here, one silence there. I didn’t even notice how much was burning until I was standing in the ashes.   That’s what society does best—it doesn’t shove you into silence, it

Something people don’t always know about me is just how incredibly wild my career has been.   I’ve worked as a crisis counselor in a New York City ER. I’ve worked inside institutions in Sri Lanka with the NIH. I’ve taught sex ed in Philly high schools. I was a private investigator with the government. I got into the FBI.   But the one that always piques the most interest? My run as a mental health therapist in solitary confinement at the notorious Rikers Island.   Now—I’ll sa

Deprivation mindset is dangerous...and...it keeps us stuck.