Some people walk into your life and it feels like fate. The timing, the chemistry, the spark. It all feels right. But what if that connection you are calling a blessing is actually a lesson in disguise? In this episode, I break down how to distinguish between people who are meant to stay and be a blessing and those who are meant to teach you something before they go. You will learn how to recognize when someone expands your peace versus when they sneakily drain it, why early chemistry can cloud your judgment, and how time reveals whether a connection is productive or performative.

Lately, what has been coming up is identity and our subconscious beliefs. That we can hustle and grind to achieve our dreams, but when we are fatigued or things don’t turn out the way we hope, we stumble, fall, and skin our knees. We fall into old patterns. Well known and comfortable. Effortless in how enjoyable they can be. So all that trying falls to the baseline of our bad habits. The place we always end up. Always settle in, sometimes even deeper, especially when the higher we aim, the harder we fall. And it got me thinking about how this cycle so easily occurs. We live our lives in boxes. We wake up in a box of a bedroom. Drive to work in a box on wheels. Spend our day in a box called a cubicle or office. Housed inside a bigger box. Inch forward in traffic like cars stacked in a row of boxes. Swing through the drive-thru or order takeout, food in a box. Then, we collapse at home in front of the glowing box, our TV or phone screen, before going to bed and doing it all again tomorrow.

When disaster strikes in the Gulf, the first thing responders do isn’t cleanup. The spill is too massive, too overwhelming. Instead, they deploy barriers, floating booms that keep the oil from spreading. Those barriers don’t solve the problem. They buy time until the experts arrive with the right tools and training to begin the real work of restoration. Our lives often feel the same. We contain, we distract, we survive. We scroll, we pour another glass, we stay busy, we even overuse “healthy” strategies. They help us hold the mess at bay but they don’t heal it. And there comes a moment when we realize: I can’t clean this up alone. That is the moment when asking for help stops being a weakness and becomes wisdom.

What if the carefree version of you, the one who twirled until she was dizzy, made snow angels on winter mornings, and laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe, isn’t gone, just buried? Somewhere between childhood’s dizzying spins and adulthood’s careful steps, we traded carefree for careful. We swapped laughter for control, joy for productivity, and play for performance. In this episode, I share the story of The Happy Couple, a sculpture that stopped me in my tracks, and what it taught me about the version of myself I used to be: light, lifted, and unafraid to spin. I walk you through three practical, real-life steps to help you remember what it feels like to be weightless again, even in the middle of everything that’s heavy.

Radioactive people do more than make life uncomfortable. They corrode. They contaminate. They leave you carrying invisible fallout long after the conversation is over. Sometimes it comes from family, wrapped in “I’m just joking” comments that gut you across the dinner table. Sometimes it comes from friends who take the secrets you trusted them with and turn them into weapons. Either way, the impact is the same acid on your skin, erosion in your confidence, poison in your relationships. But what if you could stop normalizing their behavior? What if you could build protective gear, isolate the source, and finally breathe clean air again?

This episode was inspired by a vivid mental image: fear dragging a rickety wooden chair across the floor of your mind. Loud. Disruptive. Impossible to ignore. It doesn’t knock. It doesn’t wait. It just shows up, slams its seat down, and settles in like it plans to stay awhile. If you’ve ever spiraled over a single email, obsessed over worst-case scenarios, or let fear take over your thoughts until everything felt like it was burning down, this one’s for you.

Decades ago, I was waiting tables at a busy Houston steakhouse when I mistook an Astros pitcher for a guy I played with on my church softball league. The table erupted in laughter, and I had no idea why. To me, he was just another man who looked familiar, not a sports legend. That moment taught me something that has stuck with me ever since. People can be idolized in one space and completely unknown in another. And while it is easy to put others on pedestals, the truth is this: while you are clapping for someone else’s game, you are not playing your own.

After my divorce, I didn’t know how empty I’d become until everything collapsed. Not in some headline-worthy way, but in the quiet aftermath when the calls went unanswered and the loneliness set in. I realized I had spent years waiting. Waiting for someone to check on me, to lift me up, to bring back the version of myself I had lost. But the truth hit hard. No one was coming. In this episode, I share the painful but liberating truth of learning to save myself. From sitting in solitude, to facing the worst-case scenarios when no help could reach me, to rewriting my own self-talk, this is the story of discovering strength on the other side of waiting.

We’ve all been told to be realistic. Stay grounded. Play small. Don’t dream too big. But what if being a little “delulu” isn’t denial, it’s survival? In this episode, I share why the line “Live a delulu life and only visit reality when necessary” stuck with me, and how it can actually serve as a lifeline when the treadmill of hustle culture, burnout, and endless obligations won’t stop. We’ll talk about how reality often locks us into cages built by someone else’s rules, why delulu thinking gives you the courage to sketch a jailbreak blueprint, and how to structure your “visiting hours” with reality so you can keep moving toward the life you’re designing instead of the one you were handed.

Remember when you were nineteen or twenty? You could pull an all-nighter, grab a morning run, power through classes, and still have energy for pizza at midnight. No one depended on you but you. Fast-forward to today. Mortgage, career, spouse, kids. Suddenly, hot yoga at 6 a.m. or late-night dumbbells in the spare room feel impossible. Some nights, the best you can give is backyard playtime with the kids or curling up with your spouse. And still, that voice whispers: lazy.

This episode was inspired by a vivid mental image: fear dragging a rickety wooden chair across the floor of your mind. Loud. Disruptive. Impossible to ignore. It doesn’t knock. It doesn’t wait. It just shows up, slams its seat down, and settles in like it plans to stay awhile. If you’ve ever spiraled over a single email, obsessed over worst-case scenarios, or let fear take over your thoughts until everything felt like it was burning down, this one’s for you.

This episode was inspired by a vivid mental image: fear dragging a rickety wooden chair across the floor of your mind. Loud. Disruptive. Impossible to ignore. It doesn’t knock. It doesn’t wait. It just shows up, slams its seat down, and settles in like it plans to stay awhile. If you’ve ever spiraled over a single email, obsessed over worst-case scenarios, or let fear take over your thoughts until everything felt like it was burning down, this one’s for you.

This episode was inspired by the image of Michelangelo’s David. A block of marble once considered ruined and abandoned for decades, until a young sculptor saw potential where everyone else saw flaws. If you have ever felt chipped, cracked, overlooked, or left out in the cold, this one is for you. I discuss the messy middle of transformation, including the dust and doubt, the old version of yourself still clinging on, and how to keep carving forward even when the vision disappears. You will learn how to name what life has taken, strengthen what remains, and protect the fragile and holy work of becoming.

This episode comes from a season of loving someone who will not accept help and feeling that familiar ache in my chest as the cliff gets closer. If you have watched a person you love dig in their heels, refuse support, and race toward consequences, this one is for you. I talk about the helplessness, the guilt, and the debate between keeping a safe distance or diving in to help. Then I walk you through clear tools that let you love them without losing yourself.

Evenings are the part of the day when many of us lose momentum. Instead of resting, we find ourselves cramming in unfinished tasks, scrolling late into the night, or procrastinating the week ahead. The result is oversleeping, rushing, and starting the next day already behind. In this episode, I’m sharing why evenings are just as important as mornings, how cramming more in actually steals from tomorrow, and the small shifts that turn chaos into calm. You will also hear how habit stacking can help transition from “go mode” into “rest mode” so you end the day feeling grounded instead of drained.

This episode was inspired by a week of white-knuckling life, mentally, emotionally, and yes, metaphorically scream-singing Life is a Highway while trying to hold it all together. If you’ve been trying to manage every detail, predict every outcome, and force your future into submission, this one’s for you. I talk about what it really feels like to spiral into control mode, whether it's big things like job uncertainty and heartbreak or smaller things like calorie counting, step tracking, and perfectly timed morning routines.

I have been chasing the perfect morning routine for years. Trying, tweaking, and testing different habits. Some have stuck, others have fallen away. The truth is, building a routine that makes you feel energized, grounded, and ready for the day is harder than it seems. In this episode, I’m sharing why mornings are sneaky, how one unexpected disruption can throw off your entire day, and the small, intentional changes that can completely shift the way you show up for yourself. We’ll also talk about my secret weapon for making it stick.Habit stacking.

This episode was recorded poolside emotionally, not literally, during one of those long, frustrating seasons where everything feels like it’s moving for everyone else but you. I talk about what it’s like to sit in the in-between, where your effort is consistent, your dreams are clear, but the results are nowhere in sight. It’s not just disappointing. It’s exhausting. And if you’re in a season like that, this one’s for you.

Not everyone gets a front row seat to the fashion show of your life. Especially when you’re growing, healing, and becoming someone your past self no longer recognizes. But, warning, this episode might be the most honest and maybe the most harsh one yet. But it’s necessary. I’m sharing a personal story about a longtime friendship that no longer fits. One that kept dragging me back to a version of myself I’ve long outgrown. And how realizing that was the first step to repositioning relationships in a way that protects your peace and honors your evolution.

This episode comes with a numb jaw, a healing incision, and a story I didn’t expect to tell. What started as mild discomfort from a tight night guard turned into a full-blown oral surgery, triggered by a fractured tooth, a failed crown, and bone loss from a root canal that never should’ve been done in the first place. Years later, I found out the dentist who performed it was arrested for insurance fraud using unnecessary procedures to fund his drug addiction. And I’ve been paying the price ever since.

It’s hot. Miserably hot. If you’ve ever spent a summer in Houston, you know exactly what we’re talking about. The kind of humidity that smothers you slowly. Hundred heat even in the shade, and killer mosquitoes that are on you like a dog in heat. Leaving you wondering how on Earth they are even necessary for the planet. This week, I’m not pretending anyone wants to exercise outdoors, unless you live in the North or the West Coast of the U.S. In this episode, I’m sharing how I got back into moving my body with intention, not to change how it looks, but to reconnect with how it feels.

You’ve changed. Your goals should too. This one stared me down from my own vision board for several months. Not a loud failure, just a quiet mismatch. The kind of goal that once felt exciting but now feels heavy or irrelevant. It wasn’t even a bad goal. It just didn’t fit anymore, and yet, I still felt guilty taking it down. As if changing my mind meant I was giving up instead of growing.

When you’ve lived through enough storms, you start preparing for them before they even hit. You feel it in your chest the moment a system enters the Gulf. You watch the forecast like a hawk, refresh hotel availability, run through backup plans, and pray the seventy-year oaks that bridge across the street won’t fall. I’ve evacuated with a toddler on my hip and another baby in my belly. I’ve watched the water rise, four, five, six feet through my home. I’ve lived through hurricanes, burst pipes, collapsed ceilings, and the endless chaos of trying to rebuild a life while pretending everything is okay.

This one crept up quietly. Not like a messy drawer or a packed closet. Calendar clutter hides behind good intentions, long-standing obligations, and automatic yeses. It started with one Tuesday morning, thinking I had space to write and rest. Instead, I was buried under appointments, errands, and commitments I didn’t even remember agreeing to.

It began with another Sunday night collapse on the couch. Exhausted from errands, sports schedules, laundry piles, and meal prep, it ended with the phrase "Bare Minimum Monday" hitting me like a lifeline. For years, I’d been sprinting into Mondays like my worth depended on it. Holding it all together at home, then flipping a switch to perform in the workplace like I hadn’t just run a weekend marathon. And I know I’m not alone.

Make space in your wardrobe and your life for who you’re becoming. One category, one hanger, one memory at a time. It started with a Christmas gift. Not a sweater. Not a candle.A handwritten coupon from my daughter: one full day to finally clean out my closet. Inside that closet? Corporate blazers, gala gowns, unworn stilettos, and nostalgic pieces from every chapter of my life before, during, and after divorce.It was overwhelming, emotional, and long overdue.

It started with a casual writing sprint, and ended with a realization that hit me square in the chest. While my best friend talked about sleeping by the beach on a whim or flying to Fiji at the drop of a hat, I felt it. That tight, anxious knot in my stomach. The part of me that used to be spontaneous? She’d been buried under years of responsibility, risk-aversion, and overplanning.

It started on a flight to Colorado, with two hours to kill and a casual scroll through my camera roll. What I found? Over 15,000 photos and videos. Most of them forgotten, outdated, or totally irrelevant. Screenshots I never referenced. Duplicate selfies. Videos I meant to send but didn’t. A graveyard of good intentions.

It started with a Coldplay concert in Colorado and ended with a moment that changed how I see everything. From the rain delay to the confetti explosion, the experience wasn’t just unforgettable. It was a masterclass in presence, resilience, and what it means to live at the top of your brilliance, even when things get messy.

You’ve kept the career, the kids, and the calendar all running like clockwork. But somewhere along the way, you disappeared. This episode is for the woman who’s holding it all together on the outside, but feels completely drained on the inside. Maybe your days blur together. Maybe you collapse into bed wired but tired.

I woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing, body tense, convinced I was late to a boardroom full of powerful men, juggling baby spit-up, malfunctioning slide decks, and the crushing pressure to prove I belonged. But it was just a dream.

When my daughter was introduced to someone powerful in her field, the moment should’ve opened doors. Instead, it slammed one shut with a single, sexist comment: “You don’t want to be too smart. People don’t like that.” EXCUSE ME?

You’re not selfish. You’re not hormonal. You’re not emotional. You’re just done. You know that simmering feeling when everything in your life appears fine on the outside, but inside, you’re fantasizing about walking out like it’s a bad dinner party? That’s not a midlife crisis. It’s an awakening.

If that line hits a little too close to home, this episode is for you. You’re not ungrateful or broken, you’re just done performing a version of yourself that no longer fits. In this premiere episode, we talk about the real signs it’s time to reinvent: restlessness, resentment, and the quiet voice asking, “Is this it?”

I know what it feels like to wake up in a life that looks fine on the outside, but quietly suffocates you on the inside. I’ve been there. I’ve worn the titles, climbed the ladder, raised the kids, signed the divorce papers, bought the house, ticked off milestone boxes... and still felt like something was missing. This show is my way of reaching back with a flashlight for any woman standing in that same foggy in-between—the space of who you were and what you want to become. In ten minutes or less, I offer you real talk, no fluff. Just clarity, confidence, and a bold nudge toward whatever comes next. Whether you're burned out, bored, or craving something more, this safe space is for you. No fake positivity. No pretending. Just truth, tools, and the occasional loving kick in the ass.