These patterns, in our lives and relationships — they feel like repetition, but really, they’re showing us our evolution. The vantage point shifts. The stakes rise. The clarity sharpens.

You still see those patterns, those mistakes, those moments you abandoned yourself. 

You still see them and as you pass by them on each loopity loop “up”, it can still feel familiar. The ache. The choice. The fear.

But you’re not standing in the same place. You’re looking at it from higher ground.

That’s the thing about growth no one tells you: it doesn’t always feel like victory (at first).

I don’t think we talk enough about how many of us are haunted by an imaginary audience.

The one that watches you even when you’re alone.

The one that critiques the way you dance in your kitchen, or speak in meetings, or post something vulnerable online.

The one that keeps you small, polished, pre-approved. Quiet.

Even when no one’s actually looking.

It’s subtle. But it’s powerful.

And it doesn’t just steal your joy - it saps your momentum.

A few years ago, I would’ve told you that my dream self journals nightly, reads 2 books a month, learns Spanish for exactly 30 minutes a day, and hits the gym like clockwork every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

She’s structured. She’s intentional. She probably owns bras that match all her underwear.

But you know what else? She also doesn’t exist.

We’ve been told that luxury is something we have to acquire. That it’s reserved for special occasions, far-off vacations, or perfectly curated experiences (🛥️💎🍾).

But I don’t buy it. To me, luxury is in the way we experience the world. It’s in how deeply we let ourselves feel the beauty of a moment, the richness of a connection, the indulgence of a shared experience.

I used to think I had to pick one lane.

Be constantly hustling, pushing for more, getting shit done (and a little in-your-face if I'm being honest) or be the deeply present, ease-filled woman who trusts everything will work out (and spends a lot of time barefoot and vibing).

But life - at least a life in full bloom - doesn’t work that way.

I planned six weeks of travel. The kind of adventure that used to light me up. The kind of trip I’ve dreamed about, planned for, and always loved. It’s something I do. It’s even who I am.

But when I let go of the “should” and got honest about what I actually needed, the answer was clear:

I didn’t need more movement, more excitement. I needed something else entirely.

The more I lean into loving myself exactly as I am, the more I reconnect with the things that lit me up before. Before I saw every skill or interest as something that needed to be profitable. Before I let labels and expectations tell me how to show up. Before I let the noise (and fear) drown out my true desires.

And I have to ask (writing that made me feel like Carrie Bradshaw staring at the camera window, I'm really having a tv icon moment here, friends)…

What if we could build the life we’ve always dreamed of - not by forcing it, but by simply being who we are, without apology?

I think it's important for us all to be able to say "I'm on a journey, I'm still learning, and I'm ok with that."

Your therapist, your coach, your mentor - the things we love about people we look to for support is rarely (NEVER?) their perfection. It's their transformation. And the way they carry themselves through to the other side.

The year had some amazing, incredible, and truly tender moments for which I am endlessly grateful. And I definitely invited myself (and was invited by the universe) into a more conscious, expanded, and even embodied, version of myself.

But it also felt a little like I took my life like a handbag and shook it upside down to clear it out.

And start fresh.

Which maybe isn’t the worst thing?