How a handful of moments can become the whole story.

Hi lovely,

I’ve been thinking lately about the way we see each other online - how a handful of moments can accidentally become “the whole story.”

And I guess I want to let you in a little closer today.

Because yes, you might see the 5:30am workouts. The weights. The “moving my body every day” consistency. The overflowing farmers’ market bags. The home education moments that look soft and intentional.

But here’s the part you don’t see:

My right bicep hurts. Not metaphorically - literally. The dog pulled, the tendon tore, and even now it twinges when I reach too far. My right hip aches too - the kind of ache you earn from tearing a hamstring off the bone at 41 when you decide it’s time to dance again.

And the basics? 

Lunges complain. Squats pinch.  Some days, honestly, the heaviest thing I lift is my own motivation.

And those beautiful market hauls?

Some days it’s eggs-for-breakfast, eggs-for-lunch, eggs-for-dinner because the thought of chopping anything feels like too much.

And home education - the heart-led dream of it - sometimes looks like me standing in the bathroom, whispering, “Just give me a minute.”

All of this to say: whatever story gets built from the outside… there is always more underneath.

And even with the aches, the overwhelm, the meals on repeat, the longing for space…

I’m living the life I want to live. Not because it’s perfect. But because it feels true - for me.

And I want you to know that your version of this - your bothness - is just as valid.

You can be overwhelmed and grateful. You can be strong and exhausted. You can love your life and need a break from it. You can be intentional and messy at the same time.

This is real life.

Real humans.

Real seasons.

Real stories that exist between the photos.

And if you’ve been craving a space where your truth is allowed to be spoken out loud - without needing it to make sense, or be pretty, or be “sorted” - that’s exactly why I created TALK TO ME.



Not a program. Not a curriculum. Not a self-improvement project.

Just a conversation space.

A place to unravel the thoughts that keep looping. A place to breathe out the things you’ve been carrying. A place where nothing is too silly, too heavy, too tangled, or too human. A place where someone holds the space for you the way you hold it for everyone else.

If reading this stirred something - a soft yes, a curiosity, a relief - hit reply.

Tell me what’s been sitting on your chest.

Tell me the part of your story you haven’t said out loud yet.

I’m here.

TALK TO ME

Big love,