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This year was a good one. Not perfect, not easy. But good in ways that actually count. I reached a goal I’d been working toward - over 50 women inside my online women’s community. Conversations about real life, support, and women showing up as themselves - not who they think they should be. I said yes to more than 25 speaking engagements. Different rooms, different stories, same reminder every time - people want honesty more than hype. I became a Nea-Nea - that’s my grandma name. Still wild to say out loud. My middle child was accepted into a sorority. One of those moments where pride and awe sit side by side. And this one matters more than most - my brain tumor hasn’t grown back. No big announcement nor fireworks - only the quiet relief that continues to settle in. Life kept moving alongside all of it - marriage, parenting, work, responsibility, the everyday stuff that doesn’t pause just because something good happens. Here’s what surprised me. Even with all of that… my brain still went straight to next. Another children’s book. All good things and all things I want. And still, that question showed up. When is it enough? Not in a dramatic way but more like standing in the middle of a season I worked hard to build and already thinking about the next one. The Brain Behind ItOur brains are wired to move forward. Planning feels productive. Momentum feels safe. So when something good happens, the brain doesn’t rest - it scans. That wiring is useful… until it never shuts off. When forward motion replaces presence, nothing ever lands. Wins become checkpoints. Relief turns into planning. Satisfaction gets postponed. That’s why people can have genuinely good years and still feel unsettled. It isn’t ingratitude - it's momentum without pause. This Week's Shift - Let Something CountAs you plan for next year - while you’re setting goals, cutting out the cute vision board pictures, writing mission statements, deciding who you’ll be in 2026 - there’s one question worth slowing down for: Where might you already have enough… and still keep chasing? Not enough as in finished. If nothing is ever enough, nothing ever satisfies. You stay one accomplishment ahead of yourself, always reaching for the next thing instead of letting this one matter. For me, the shift is learning to pause long enough to notice the season I’m standing in - not rush past it just because I know how to build the next thing. If This Hits HomeI want to hear from you. Reply to this email and finish this sentence: “If I’m being honest, I might already have enough when it comes to ______.” I read every reply and will respond. Sometimes the shift isn’t doing more - it's letting something finally be enough. Certified Life & Communication Coach |
ShiFt Happens is a weekly email for people who want to understand how people actually communicate - not how it sounds on the surface. Work, family, everyday conversations - this is where it plays out. It’s what people mean but don’t say, how things get twisted, and the patterns you keep repeating even when you know better. Real-life psychology with practical tools you’ll actually use the same day. 700+ people are already in. If you’re in, subscribe.
I’m really excited about this… and a little nervous, if I’m honest. I’ve been working on a book about communication - but not the polished, textbook kind. The real kind. The kind where a normal conversation suddenly turns into a tug-of-war… and now you’re defending, explaining, trying to be understood, or replaying it later thinking “why did I say that?” or "what could I have said instead?" That’s why I wrote this. Most people aren’t necessarily "bad" at communicating. They’re often stuck...
There’s a moment in some relationships that leaves you sitting there thinking, wait… did that really just happen? Maybe it’s later that night and you’re on the couch replaying something from earlier. At dinner, in front of a few friends, someone made a comment about you. It was the kind of remark that gets a quick laugh and then everyone suddenly becomes very interested in their food. Something like, “Well… we all know she can be a little dramatic.” You laugh too, mostly because that’s the...
They used to talk for hours. About stupid things, big dreams, the way they both hated that one actor everyone else loved. Back then, their nights felt endless - not because of time, but because curiosity made everything new. But years later, it was different.Dinner was quiet. The TV filled the space where laughter used to live. He’d ask, “How was your day?”She’d say, “Fine.”He’d nod, “Good.”Then they’d scroll, both pretending they were too tired to notice the silence. She could predict his...