10/18/2026
Everyone talks about the lessons they learned, the transformation they bring clients, the path they “know” to walk. (me included). Then there’s the argument against “performed vulnerability,” scar vs wound. and I agree. setting up your phone to cry in front of it is ridiculous. But it’s left us questioning what we’re “supposed” to share here. How much? Where’s the line? Behind every person talking about health, money, business, is that same person wrestling with things they don’t show.
I wrote The Myth and Performance of Arrival because I refused to pretend “perfect health” is what qualifies me to teach. It’s not. It actually gave the opposite impression to women.
6 things I talk about but don’t show because I honestly don’t know how:
🌸 Grief, a year later. The clawing at the hardwood floor, crying until your eyes swell shut. It subsides a bit with time, but it still happens, I don’t show it
🌀Liminal space. The messy middle. I talk about this a lot. Some days everything feels so uncertain that nothing gets done. It looks nothing like how i try to describe it. It’s the most present I’ve ever been, yet the most ungrounded. The ground hasn’t been forged.
🤍My own health. Pain that stops work and keeps me up at night, tangled in the same ball of yarn as grief. Not knowing if I’ll have children of my own. It doesn’t look like curated words
👥The wrestle between self and business. I run Sanctum. I’m also an artist, a woman with an entire life that has nothing to do with health. Two accounts. One me. Still learning how to meld that.
🧠Selfdoubt. Starting a project in the morning, questioning your value halfway through, shelving it by noon, sitting in your head about the wasted time, moving forward.
🍃Capacity. I’m often told I have more than most. It was forged in the hardest season of my life. It still has a limit. A strange place to be when everyone around you believes you don’t have one.
We all have these things. And I’m wrestling with how to show up in it. my life is so fu***ng good, and there is still heaviness. Still unknown. The pain that brings us to our knees. The sunset that makes u