Hi, friend!

Big news on this end: we found somewhere to live!!

Which means I currently have 27 IKEA tabs open (and one dedicated to meter/cm conversions).

You know that feeling we talked about last week- the one you get from aspirational Pinterest boards and YouTube vlogs? That sense of possibility? Wonder. Excitement. Foreboding joy. Planning a new space has a very similar energy.

The promise of a new way of being…

And after almost 2 years of living out of suitcases, in terms of furniture and homey ‘things’, we need almost everything.

Almost.

Because I’ve known for a long time what will be sitting on our living room coffee table:

Brené Brown’s Atlas of the Heart.

Who needs a sofa or chairs when you have a coffee table book 😅

I started reading it [listening on Audible] when it came out in 2021, but stopped halfway through - not because it wasn’t good, but because I knew it was a physical book experience.

The kind you leave open. The kind people flip through when they come over.

If you know me, you know I’m the type of person who will ask how you are, then make you find the emotion that actually fits. So friends… consider this your official warning.

If this is the first time you’re hearing about Atlas of the Heart, it really is just that: a map. A framework and language for understanding our inner world. It details 87 emotions and experiences that every single one of us moves through.

Which is wild, because when asked how we feel, most of us can only name three:

Happy
Sad
Mad

We’re somehow missing the remaining 84.

And while that’s a little embarrassing, given in many ways emotions are the language of being human, the real cost is this:

When we can’t name what we feel, we can’t make sense of it.
We can’t tell the people in our lives what’s actually going on inside us.
We can’t regulate it.
We can’t ask for what we need.
We can’t build real, honest connection.

So I figured this is something we could explore together this week.

You already know where I am…

So go and get yourself situated, too.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you.

[LESSON]

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” — Ludwig Wittgenstein

Honestly, this could be the entire lesson.

Because language isn’t just how we communicate - it’s how we make meaning.

It’s how we understand ourselves.
It’s how we process what happens to us.
It’s how we let other people in.

Having access to the right words can open entire universes.

And when we don’t have the language for an experience, we don’t just stay silent, we stay stuck.

We struggle to:

• understand what’s happening inside us

• move through emotions productively

• ask for support

• develop real self-awareness

Here’s the powerful reframe:

Naming an experience doesn’t give it more power. It gives you the power of understanding.

In psychology, this skill is called emotional granularity — the ability to identify and label emotions with precision.

And it is genuinely life-changing.

Let me show you the difference.

Say something happens and the only language you have is

“I feel sad.”

That sadness becomes heavy and confusing.
You don’t know what to do with it. So you withdraw. Or overthink. Or numb out.

But with a broader emotional vocabulary, that same moment might become:

• I feel disappointed because this mattered to me.

• I feel rejected because I wanted to belong.

• I feel powerless because I didn’t have control in that moment.

• I feel grief because something I hoped for didn’t happen.

Do you see how different those are?

Each one points to:

A different need
A different conversation
A different form of self-compassion
A different next step

This is why emotional literacy changes how we live.

It improves our relationships — because we can tell the truth about our experience.
It improves our decision-making — because we understand what our emotions are signalling.
It improves our regulation — because clarity reduces overwhelm.
It deepens our self-trust — because we can accurately interpret our inner world.

And maybe most importantly:

It allows us to feel seen by ourselves.

Now, I get that moving from 3 emotions to 87 is a big leap. This isn’t something you master overnight.

Which is why my very practical plan is simply this: Have the Atlas sitting in the middle of my living room. So when a feeling shows up, instead of spiralling or suppressing it, I can open the book and ask: Where am I on the map right now?

I promise this isn’t an ad for the book. There are so many ways to build this skill — Brown has free resources, there are emotion wheels, lists, apps.

And here is Brown’s list of the 87 emotions for you to download right now.

Because I don’t know about you, but existing in the world right now is bringing up a lot of feelings.

And my hope, for me and for you, is that developing a more precise language for them will at least help make our inner world a little calmer.

And clarity is regulating.
Clarity is grounding.
Clarity is power.

And we could all do with a little more of that right now.

[3 QUESTIONS]

1. When you say “I feel stressed” or “I feel sad,” what might be the more precise emotion underneath that general label?

2. In your current season of life, which emotions are you experiencing most often - but not fully acknowledging or naming?

3. Where in your life would greater emotional clarity change the way you communicate or show up? (Work? Dating? Friendships? Family? Your relationship with yourself?)

[A DARE]

For the next 24 hours, practice emotional granularity in real time.

At one or two moments in your day:

Pause and ask: What am I feeling, exactly?

Not good.
Not bad.
Not fine.

Be specific.

If it helps, use this sentence starter:

“I feel ___ because ___, and what I need right now is ___.”

Then notice:

Where do you feel it in your body?
What shifts when you name it accurately?
Do you feel more clarity? More softness? More direction?

That’s the power of language.
That’s the expansion of your world.

Emotional literacy isn’t about becoming hyper-analytical or turning every feeling into a processing session.

It’s about moving through life with more precision, more self-understanding, and more honest connection.

It’s about being able to say: “This is what’s happening inside me.” And trusting that it makes sense.

So this week, your work isn’t to feel differently. It’s to get better at naming what’s already there.

Because the more words you have for your inner world, the more worlds become available to you.

See you on a Sunday,
L

Hi, friend!

How’s your week been?

Gentle? Chaotic? Average? A little bit existential?

You know the drill, hit reply and let me know. I read them all.

On my end, despite some very annoying flat-hunting things, this week has been a really good one. For the first time in months, I’ve started to feel that familiar fire of inspiration. And it feels sooo nice to be reacquainted with this version of me again 🥹

Life feels so much lighter and flowy when I’m no longer thinking about the person I want to be, and just existing as her.

Which brings me to something I’ve been thinking about:

Your identity doesn’t live in your adjectives. It lives in your patterns.

If I asked you, “Who are you?” you’d probably give me a list like:

I’m… Thoughtful. Creative. A leader. Health-focused. Independent. Loyal.

And those things matter! Language matters.

But the heavier weighting of identity doesn’t come from what you say about yourself.

It comes from what you do.

Repeatedly.

I might say I’m a health-focused person. But if my patterns are eating food I’m allergic to (gluten 🙄), rarely moving my body, sleeping badly, and ignoring stress signals… let’s be real.

That’s not a health-focused identity.
That’s an unhealthy pattern with a healthy self-image attached to it.

And no shade is being thrown. My examples come from me.

As you know, I’ve been navigating some big internal shifts these last few months. Which means I deeply understand how enjoyable it is to spend hours binging “rebrand your life” YouTube videos or building aspirational Pinterest boards.

It feels productive. It feels hopeful. It feels like movement.

And honestly? It’s a lot more fun than facing yourself.

It’s a lot easier picking out a new Pilates set… than starting to interrogate my deeply entrenched fears of being seen and the ways I’ve used my body to hide from myself and the world.

Anywhooooo

One skill I’ll always be practicing is holding multiple truths at once. And today’s tension looks like this:

I understand the comfort and possibility that the YouTube version of “Reinventing Yourself” brings and I fundamentally disagree with it.

Here’s my thing - you don’t need to rebrand or reinvent yourself if you’re able to allow and hold yourself loosely as you evolve. It all just gets to be different sides of you.

But for that evolution to be grounded and lasting, you have to go deeper than the surface-level stuff.

You have to look at your patterns. That’s where the real identity levers are hiding.

So that’s what we’ll be exploring today. And instead of the usual 3 questions and a dare, I’m sharing a short exercise. Look at us, already switching up a pattern 💁🏽‍♀️

Go grab that journal, beverage, and get cozy.

I have a lesson, and a pattern extraction exercise for you!

[LESSON]

From a psychology perspective, identity isn’t something you declare; it’s something that emerges.

Your brain is a pattern-detecting machine. It’s constantly asking one core question:

“Who am I, based on what I repeatedly do?”

This is why patterns matter more than intentions.

Every repeated behaviour strengthens a neural pathway. Over time, those pathways become efficient, automatic, and eventually invisible. This is how habits (and identities) are formed.

Not based on your goals.
Or the values you put on paper.
But based on your patterns.

This is why patterns are so powerful (and so sneaky).

You don’t wake up one day and decide to be disconnected from your body, overextended at work, emotionally avoidant, or stuck.

Those identities are built slowly, through small repeated choices that once made sense:

• Overworking to feel safe

• Staying busy to avoid feeling

• Saying yes to avoid discomfort

• Staying surface-level to avoid being seen

And here’s the part most people miss: patterns almost always start as protection.

At some point, each one helped you cope, belong, survive, or succeed. But what once protected you can eventually limit you, especially when it becomes unconscious.

This is why real identity change doesn’t start with aspiration. It starts with awareness.

sigh

When you can see your patterns clearly, you get choice back.
You can interrupt them.
You can update them.
You can practice new ones.

And slowly - quietly - your identity shifts.

Not because you rebranded. But because you lived differently.

Which brings us to the exercise.

[THE EXERCISE: PATTERN EXTRACTION]

This is an exercise taken from the work I do with my personal branding clients. It helps you start to uncover your recurring patterns and roles, the ones your identity quietly stabilizes around. These are the patterns that show up over and over in your behaviour, your energy, and how the world interacts with you.

Instructions:

1. Answer quickly. Don’t overthink your answers.

2. Be specific; the more concrete, the better.

3. Be honest. No “shoulds” here, only what actually happens in your life.

Step 1: Observe your patterns

1. Where do you consistently feel most alive? Not happiest - the most activated, engaged, switched on, etc.

2. What situations drain you, no matter how “successful” or impressive they look?

3. What do people reliably come to you for? Advice, calm, execution, honesty, vision, care, humour?

4. In group settings, what do you always end up doing? Leading, mediating, observing, supporting, provoking?

Step 2: Connect the dots

Ask:

“What do all of these have in common? What roles do I keep playing, what patterns do I repeat, whether I choose them or not?” Look for themes, recurring approaches, or consistent “modes” of being. Don’t judge yourself, just observe.

Example:

You feel most alive facilitating conversations, get drained in hierarchical settings, people come to you for clarity, and you always end up naming the thing no one else will.

That’s a pattern. That’s an identity signal. Not because you want it to be. But because it already is.

Step 3: Use your insights

Notice which patterns serve you and which limit you.

Make small, deliberate tweaks in daily life to interrupt the ones that no longer serve you.

Practice the roles you want to strengthen, and gently step back from the ones you want to shift.

Your patterns reveal your identity more clearly than adjectives ever will.

They’re the quiet scaffolding of who you are, and seeing them gives you real leverage to evolve, intentionally and sustainably.

So what if, instead of watching that video on “your 2026 rebrand”, you carved out 20 minutes to answer these questions honestly, and notice what shows up (you should already have your journal).

Your identity is already signalling itself; now it’s your turn to pay attention.

See you on a Sunday,
L

Hi, friend!

I hope I’m finding you snuggled up somewhere - journal nearby, snacks within reach, and if you’re in Toronto, with the heating turned all the way up.

this weather is not playing

We’re far enough into January that the “new year, new everything” noise has softened… but not so far that we’ve fully landed yet. That in-between space - where things are quieter, slower, but with an air of change, is where today’s email finds us.

This might be the first year I’ve noticed Chinese astrology showing up so pervasively in everyday conversation (TikTok, I’m looking at you). If you’ve been scrolling lately, you’ve probably seen mentions of the Year of the Snake, the Year of the Horse, energetic shifts, shedding, rebirth, all of it.

I’m here for it.

What I didn’t see mentioned as much is that this wasn’t a January 1st reset. Things didn’t shift on NYE; in fact, the astrological new year doesn’t arrive until mid-February (the 17th, to be exact).

Which I also love.

I’ve never really resonated with the start strong January energy. As I’ve gotten older and more attuned to my own rhythms, I’ve noticed my year tends to begin slowly, then gathers momentum as we enter Spring. January feels less like a launch and more like a clearing.

Which works well, as we’re technically still in The Year of the Wood Snake. Before the next energetic chapter begins, there’s still time to shed those final pieces that are still hanging on, blocking the new blessings that are on their way.

Those things you’re still clinging to, even though deep down you know they no longer fit.

That’s what we’ll be exploring today.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you!

Let’s get into it :)

[LESSON]

In Chinese astrology, each year is associated with one of twelve animals and one of five elements: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water. The Year of the Wood Snake carries themes of growth, renewal, wisdom — and, most importantly, shedding.

Shedding isn’t instant. It also isn’t optional.

I went down a (rather disturbing) rabbit hole for this newsletter - you’re welcome. I wanted to understand the snake’s process. Turns out, it’s long, uncomfortable, and uncompromising. During the shedding seasons, snakes become incredibly restless. Many lose their sight, their vision clouds (their eyes literally turn grey). They’ll try to hide. The skin doesn’t fall off gracefully; it splits. They have to rub themselves against rough surfaces to loosen what no longer fits, then use all their remaining strength to free themselves.

It felt… painfully familiar.

Because human shedding is a lot like that, too.

Outgrowing identities, friendships, roles, and versions of ourselves is HARD. It’s painful and confusing. There’s deep grief. Even when we know it’s necessary.

What I’ve noticed in myself, and in humans generally, is that we often try to shed the small things first. Surface habits. Easy distractions. As if tidying the edges will spare us from facing the bigger truth underneath.

But that in-between stage — where something is ending, and the next thing hasn’t fully formed yet, is often the hardest. The waiting. The disorientation. The discomfort. The temptation to rush, hide, or ignore.

The thing is: snakes don’t shed to lose something. They shed to make space for growth.

And that’s exactly what we’re doing too.

So today, I’m holding space for this question:

Is there anything left to shed, even one last layer, so you can walk into this next season feeling freer, clearer, and with more room to expand?

[3 QUESTIONS]

1. Looking back on last year, what have you already shed, identities, habits, relationships, expectations, that you don’t always give yourself credit for?

2. Is there something small you’ve been trying to let go of that might actually be distracting you from shedding something bigger?

3. If you imagined entering the next season of your life a little lighter, what would not be coming with you?

[A DARE]

Building off those questions, set aside time sometime this week to create a small shedding ritual.

Nothing elaborate. Just intentional.

Sit somewhere quiet and make two lists on a physical piece of paper:

• First: everything you’ve already shed. Name it. Honour it.

• Then: ask yourself, gently, if there’s anything else that’s still attached — something you’ve been circling, avoiding, or half-letting-go of.

Then rip it up.

Not to force yourself to be “done,” but to mark the intention. To acknowledge the process. To make space.

We don’t do enough rituals as adults, especially ones that help us metabolize change. Let this be a moment of honesty, not pressure.

Notice how you feel afterward. In your body. In your breath.

That feeling? That’s information.

See you on a Sunday,
L

Hi, friend!

I hope the new year is meeting you gently.

I can’t believe we’re already - and only - 11 days in… 😮‍💨

I’m writing this from a little corner of Singapore airport. Tomorrow I’ll land in my third country of 2026, but after this trip, my travels will be slowing down. Not because I’m done exploring, but because I’m making space for different kinds of adventures, ones that allow me to unpack my suitcase and enjoy a little more routine (it’s funny the things you miss).

One of these adventures involves the subject of today’s email: making the most of yourself.

I first encountered this idea in 2023. I was out on a run when the book or podcast I was listening to referenced a Wallace Wattles quote (shared below). It stopped me dead in my tracks (literally). Mid-stride, I yanked my phone out of its holder, opened my notes and frantically wrote it down. I didn’t know why it mattered, only that it did.

It ended up becoming the first slide of my very first SELFHOOD workshop. If you’re an OG, you might remember it.

Then, like all the other quotes and billion-dollar ideas residing in my notes app, it faded into the background. It didn’t disappear completely; it showed up occasionally in my writing or hovered at the edges of decisions. But it wasn’t front of mind, until a few months ago in Japan, when the existential questions I’d be wrestling with started getting louder…

Is this still what I want to do?
What would people think if I quit?
If I didn’t do this, what would I do?

It’s funny what the mind finds in the dark - what resurfaces when you’re tired, uncertain, or quietly outgrowing something.

This quote came back as my torch. Whenever the inner questions got too overwhelming, I stopped trying to see the entire path and came back to this:

What would it look like if I made the most of myself today?

Some days, that meant dragging myself out of bed and sitting in a coffee shop for hours. Other days, it meant going to networking events, sharing my honest thoughts online, or investing in experiences I knew my future self would thank me for.

Always, it asked for one intentional step.

This question has given me both comfort and direction over the last few months, and it’s something I’ll be talking about more as the year unfolds, so I’m excited to start digging into it here.

It’s a big one, so this is less about finding an answer today and instead just starting to contemplate it. Afterall, this is your Sunday self-exploration time.

So, for the first time this year, I have three questions, a lesson and a dare for you!

[3 QUESTIONS]

1. How would you define “making the most of yourself”?

2. What is one gift, skill, or perspective you have that others genuinely benefit from, even if you tend to downplay it?

3. When was the last time you felt like you were “making the most of yourself”? What did it look like? Sound like? Feel like? Describe the moment in detail.

[LESSON]

Have you heard of eudaimonia?

In psychology, it’s used to describe a form of well-being that goes beyond happiness or pleasure. Eudaimonia is about living in a way that expresses your capacities, using your talents and strengths in service of something beyond yourself.

It’s the feeling that your life is being well-used.

That is what “making the most of yourself” means to me.

Using what you have - your skills, your perspective, your energy, in ways that feel aligned and meaningful. And the good news is it doesn’t require extraordinary talent or public recognition; it just requires attention.

Attention to what you do well.
Attention to what the world needs.
And attention to the quiet overlap between those two things.

I’m convinced that many of us feel restless not because we lack ability, but because we’re underusing it. We’re capable of more contribution, more honesty, more generosity, and that unused capacity doesn’t disappear; it shows up as friction, dissatisfaction, or a vague sense that something is being left on the table.

I’ve been contemplating this question/idea for a while now, so here are a few things that come up for me when I think about making the most of myself :

First, it’s about alignment, not perfection.
You’re making the most of yourself when your actions roughly match your values, your work uses your strengths, and your choices feel internally coherent, even if they’re a little messy at times.

Second, it’s deeply connected to meaning.
Research on well-being consistently shows that people feel most fulfilled when they use their gifts in service of something beyond themselves. It might be for other people, a cause, a craft, a community. It’s about contribution.

Third, it’s a practice, not a destination.
What making the most of yourself looks like at 25, 35, or 55 will be different. It isn’t a fixed identity you arrive at. It’s a question you return to as you change and evolve.

Fourth, it often shows up as quiet satisfaction, not excitement.
Less “I’m winning,” more “this feels meaningful.”
Less adrenaline, more groundedness. Less performance, more participation.

And finally, it’s not about doing more.
It’s about wasting less of what matters to you - your energy, your insight, your care, your creativity.

If you know the usual flow of these emails, you may have picked up on the fact I shared the questions before the lesson. I wanted to give you space to define this for yourself before sharing what has been coming up for me. But now I’m curious:

Is there overlap?
Or is there something else you’d add?

That willingness to keep refining what a well-used life looks like is part of the practice too.

[A DARE]

For the next 24 hours, make one small choice that uses a real part of you in service of something beyond yourself.

And to be clear, you don’t have to solve world peace.

It could be as simple as:

• Leaving a thoughtful comment on a creator’s post instead of just scrolling past.

• Letting a colleague know you noticed something they do really well.

• Making the dinner you know your partner loves, even on a tired night.

• Sending a “thinking of you” text to the friend who’s been a little quiet lately.

• Intentionally smiling at people on your commute and actually meaning it.

Be intentional in your choice, and notice how it feels in your body afterward.

That feeling? That’s the direction.

[A QUICK FAVOUR]

Since we’re talking about “making the most,” I’m curious: how can I make the most of your time on a Sunday morning? Is there anything you’d like more or less of in these emails?

As I lean into this question in my own life, my work and focus will naturally shift and evolve. I already have some ideas in the works, but I’d love to hear yours too.

And I get it, it is SO easy not to reply to emails like this: “Someone else will do it.” Maybe. But maybe not. You have a unique perspective, and the time and thought you give to this response is so deeply appreciated. I’ll read and respond to every single one! Thank you :)

See you on a Sunday,
L

Morning friend,

Whew. What a year! 2025 really said no prisoners, huh?

So first things first: congratulations on making it to the other side. Truly.

you did that

In many of the spaces I’m in, this past year has been described as a year of stripping. A year where the things that no longer fit the person you’re becoming, or the direction you’re moving in, began to fall away.

Sometimes gently.
Sometimes painfully (and not by choice at all).

For some, it was relationships. For others, work.
For many, it was a specific picture you had for your life that no longer feels true.

Honestly, I don’t know many people who haven’t been emotionally dragged by 2025. And perhaps you’re already on the otherside, basking in the higher good of it all OR you might still be in the throes, trying to figure out what the hell just happened?!?!

Either way, despite the holiday “break”, I’m confident mine isn’t the only head that feels busy right now.

So instead of adding another framework, another concept, another thing to “work on,” I thought I’d do something different this week.

Hold space.

Space for you to get your own thoughts down.
Space to notice what’s still asking for your attention.
Space to listen to what’s already been forming under the surface.

For the first time in… ever?! I don’t have a lesson, questions, or a dare for you.

Because I’m confident that if you sit still long enough, you’ll realize… you have a few of your own.

So for the last time this year (🤯) go find that cozy spot, a drink (and some leftover treats).

It’s time for your Sunday dose of self-exploration!

[A LESSON]

If you had to name one key lesson you learned this year - what would it be?

Not the polished LinkedIn version. The real one.

Something you didn’t know at the beginning of 2025, but you know now.

A few examples, if it helps get you started:

• A truth about your energy (what drains it, what restores it)

• A boundary you finally learned the cost of not having

• A skill you picked up out of necessity

• An interest that surprised you

• A realization about who or what you no longer want to shape your life around

• A softer lesson, like “I don’t need to rush myself like that anymore”

There’s no right answer. Just notice what rises to the top when you stop trying to be clever.

Write it down. Even if it feels unfinished.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

When you try to go to bed, and your mind refuses to switch off… what questions have been keeping you up at night?

Some prompts to help you tune in:

• Am I actually happy in this… job, relationship, living situation?

• What am I proud of but haven’t really acknowledged?

• What would I explore next if I weren’t trying to be strategic?

• What am I avoiding admitting to myself because it would change things?

Let the questions spill out without adding any pressure to answer them.

[A DARE]

What is one thing you know you want to do next year… but scares you just enough to make you hesitate?

Not in a panicked way. In a “this matters” way.

It might look like:

• Saying yes to an opportunity you’d normally talk yourself out of

• Letting go of a role, label, or identity that’s kept you safe

• Creating something before you feel “ready”

• Being more visible

Your dare doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic. It just has to be honest.

Write it down. No commitment required. Just acknowledgement.

That’s it for this week.

No fixing.
No optimizing.
No, becoming a “better” version of yourself before January hits.

Just you, taking stock of what’s already here.

Hold these notes gently as you move toward 2026. You don’t need to act on them yet. Awareness is doing plenty of work on its own.

See you on a Sunday,
L

P.S From the bottom of my heart, thank you! A lot has fallen away for me this year, but you and this little Sunday community of ours have remained. I’m not exactly sure what it is that we’re building here, but it feels important.

I’m looking forward to navigating 2026 with you!

Morning,

Sooooo, what, we’re just at the end of the year now??

Because personally, it still feels like yesterday that we were in that cold-but-crisp Toronto Airbnb starting 2025 with too many bags and zero plan. And then… it blurs. I can skim through the whole year in my mind and still feel confused about how we got here?!

Anyway - the point I’m trying to make is, we’re officially in reflection-mode season. Social is flooded with aesthetic “year-in-review” templates and the ambitious goal-setting worksheets. And although you can probably hear the light sass in my tone… today’s email is sort of about that. But also… not really.

This isn’t about making you more efficient, wealthier, or more successful. Ironically, for many, it might reveal the opposite: that you need to work less.

This is about making sure you’re still making the most of you. 

It’s about checking in on all those random little interests, quirks, hobbies, and passions that make up your identity soup, and noticing how many of them you’re actually ending the year with. 

Because a few months ago, I realized that my 8-box grid was looking a little empty (again).

FYI it wasn’t *this* empty - this was taken before I started

My relationship with the 8-box grid goes way back, and it actually played a big role in my move to Canada. I was first introduced to it in 2018, during a time when I was wrestling with some big, existential questions that I couldn’t see my way through.

My dad told me to go to his bookshelf, pick a random book, open it to a random page, and see what answer showed up.

The book was Feel the Fear by Susan Jeffers.
The page introduced me to the 8-box grid.

Jeffers’ point was simple but profound: we often over-identify with one area of life, and when that box wobbles, everything feels shaky. At the time, my life had narrowed down to just two boxes, and suddenly, I had my answer.

It’s a deceptively simple concept, and one I return to time and again. If you split your life into eight boxes right now… how many could you actually fill?

That’s what we’ll be exploring today.

You know the deal, go find a cozy spot, grab a good drink, and something to journal with.

I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

Here’s the thing about being human in 2025: it is unbelievably easy to get engulfed by one part of your life.

And usually, it’s something good.

A job you’re proud of.
A safe, steady relationship.
A creative calling.
A business.
Kids you adore.
A community role.
Even the pursuit of growth itself.

When something matters to us, like really matters, it naturally expands. It takes space. It asks for more of us. And sometimes we’re happy to give it.

But if we’re not careful, the main thing quietly becomes the only thing. And that’s when we start to lose pieces of ourselves without even noticing.

It doesn’t happen dramatically. There’s no flare in the sky announcing that your once-vibrant box of creativity has now been swallowed by work. It happens quietly. Softly. A slow fade.

The parts of you who used to read for fun. The version of you who used to experiment in the kitchen. The you who took a pottery class, or joined a choir, or sketched, or made little videos, or danced badly-but-happily in a studio somewhere.

The parts that make you, you.

And here’s the deeply ironic twist: Those are the exact parts that make everything else in your life work better.

There’s a huge body of research to back this up.

If you’ve been hanging with me for a while, you’ll have heard me reference Linville and the Self-Complexity Theory. The idea is simple: the more distinct identities you have, e.g. friend, maker, athlete, learner, volunteer, partner, explorer, reader, the more resilient you are. She found that people with diversified identities recover from stress faster and don’t spiral as deeply when one area of life wobbles. If you’re interested, I explore it in more detail here.

But beyond just helping us ‘survive’, nurturing those little random parts of yourself is what allows you to thrive.

Psychologists refer to it as Identity expansion, the process of growing, reviving, or deepening parts of yourself over time. Research shows that when you expand your sense of self (even in tiny, playful ways), you experience boosts in meaning, engagement, creativity, and even your sense of future possibility.

And professionally?

There’s an entire field of Cognitive Flexibility research showing that this kind of “identity play” increases dopamine, improves memory, enhances creative thinking, and leads to better problem-solving at work. Employees with more integrated identities are consistently rated as more collaborative, more adaptable, and better lateral thinkers.

I could go on and on about this, as it’s the backbone of the workshops I deliver inside organizations (helping people work better and feel better), which is actually something I’m hoping to do more of in 2026, so if your company might be into this, let’s chat!

Having said that, the 8-box grid isn’t about squeezing productivity out of yourself, or hacking your way into “high performance”. It’s about asking a much quieter, more human question

How can you make fuller use of the person you already are?

Especially the parts that feel impractical, unprofitable, or unproductive. The parts you stopped tending to because you got busy becoming an adult.

For me, I’ve already identified that next year I want to spend more time investing in my creative hobbies, specifically singing/acting/dance. So Toronto friends: if you know any choirs or fun, low-pressure acting/theatre experiences, send me your recs. My inner musical theatre kid is ready to re-enter the chat.

This week, I’m not asking you to rethink your whole life or start setting SMART goals.

I’m just asking you to look at the boxes.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

FIRST - Draw your 8-box grid (you saw mine, it doesn’t need to be perfect).

Label the boxes: Work, Family, Friends, Alone Time, Play, Health, Personal Growth & Community / Contribution

Set a timer for 7 minutes, put your phone on DND, and start filling them in.

1. Which boxes are full?

2. Which boxes have been neglected?

3. Which boxes have been whispering - “hey, remember me?”

[A DARE]

This week, I dare you to gently start noticing how you might nurture the boxes in your grid.

I’m very aware of how intense these next few weeks might be, so this is not about a life overhaul. Think of this as a pencil exercise. Just start jotting down small, low-pressure ways you could pour into each box.

Under Play, you might write: dancing classes, travel, pottery, trying a new restaurant.
Not commitments. Just curiosities.

You might also notice which boxes are overflowing and ask where a little breathing room could be created. What could be softened? Shared? Released?

The goal isn’t perfection, it’s movement.

Jeffers reminds us that small, consistent actions across multiple areas of life are what create resilience and confidence. One tiny action in a neglected box - a short walk, a text to a friend, ten quiet minutes alone - is often enough to bring that part of you back online.

None of this needs to be implemented today. Just hold it gently as you move into 2026.

See you on a Sunday,
L

Hi friend,

This week’s note is soft, a little shorter and written from inside my own quiet season. I wanted to check in to say hi, but I didn’t want to force anything, so here’s where I’m at.

If there’s one theme I keep seeing - in myself, friends, and strangers online, it’s this:

We’re all tired in a way that rest can’t fix overnight. Depleted is perhaps a better word. 

Navigating seasons of change, uncertainty and discomfort. Working through internal shifts that are hard, confusing and mostly invisible. And yet, we’re also spending precious energy beating ourselves up for not doing enough. 

Bullying yourself about not having the energy to post, text back, organize that dinner, or write the email (*cough*). 

Desperately trying to figure out why everything you used to do effortlessly now feels forced. Panicking that you’ve become a “bad friend,” a flaky leader, a low-effort partner.

You’ve convinced yourself you’re falling behind while everyone else is sprinting.

But let me assure you that isn’t the case.

And perhaps it’s less that you’ve changed, but instead your season has. 

And in this one, the relationship you’re being asked, maybe even forced, to prioritize… It’s the one you have with you.

Something I regularly go back to is Michaela Coel’s 2021 Emmy speech (iykyk), but over these last few months, it’s the mantra I’ve needed on repeat.

It’s ok to disappear. 

It’s ok to disappear.

It’s ok to disappear. 

Her comments were geared toward writers, urging them to write the tale that scares them, the one that demands discomfort and uncertainty. But I believe it also applies to anyone actively writing the story of the life they want to live,

She said:

Because for those of us choosing to constantly grow and evolve, there will always be seasons that require silence.

Seasons of composting, where life is breaking down what’s dead so something else can sprout. Seasons where you can’t show your work yet, because the work is happening internally. Seasons where being visible would actually interrupt the growth.

Seasons that are - Messy. Void-y. Quiet.

And deeply, deeply necessary.

And they’re seasons we don’t speak about enough.

So if that is a season you are also navigating right now, please hear me when I say this:

Do not be afraid to disappear for a while.
Do not let the internet rush you back into visibility.
Do not confuse silence with failure or distance with disconnection.

And, maybe most importantly, don’t forget to offer that same grace to others.

Someone you love might be in their own building season.
Their own grieving season. Their own “I don’t have the words yet” season.

Honour that. Even if it’s silent.

You know the drill: Grab a blanket, a tea, and your journal. Carve out this pocket of stillness like it’s a requirement. Because, for many of us right now, it is.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

There’s this thing our nervous systems do when we’re in transition: they go quiet.

Psychologists call it withdrawal for integration — the instinct to pull inward so your brain can process, reorganize, and rebuild. It’s the same thing animals do after stress or injury: they go somewhere private to heal.

But because we live online, and because visibility has become the modern metric of relevance, we’ve started labelling this instinct as “falling behind.”

Here’s the reframe:

Silence isn’t stagnation - it’s scaffolding.
It’s your system gathering energy for whatever the next version of you is going to require.

And when you try to rush yourself out of your quiet season, when you force the posting, the showing up, the performing, the content treadmill, you end up interrupting your own evolution.

Disappearing isn’t always avoidance.
Sometimes it’s preparation.

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is vanish from the noise long enough to hear your own thoughts again.

And that, the slowing, the listening, the emptying out, is a crucial part of the work.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Who are you afraid will stop loving you, noticing you, or valuing you if you go silent?

2. If my withdrawal is actually integration, what might be integrating?

3. What small boundaries would support the season I’m in?

[A DARE]

This week,

I dare you to practice disappearing on purpose.

Not in a ghosting way.
Not in a “burn it all down” way.
Just in a slow, gentle, intentional way.

Pick one space where you’ve been forcing visibility, could be - Instagram, group chats, Slack, dating apps, and take a step back. Even for 3 days.

See what comes to you in the silence…

See you on a Sunday,

L

Hello,

And happy Halloween weekend to all who celebrate 🎃

Personally, I’m a big fan! I love anything that gives us an excuse to dress up and try on a new personality for the night. Whether you go ‘sexy cat’ or ‘blood-covered gremlin’ (no judgment, I’ve been both), you get to wear something new, switch up your hair, throw on some makeup — and for one night, get to be seen as something different.

Halloween gives us collective permission to experiment, to step outside of the roles we normally play and become someone else, even if only for a few hours.

And as much as I love it, we shouldn’t need Halloween to do that. I wish it were easier for us to wake up one day and decide to shift the roles we’ve been playing in our own lives. To be a little braver, softer, bolder, freer, and have it actually stick (for more than a couple of days).

Which leads nicely to this week’s theme. How we CAN make those real-life shifts and changes a little easier - using a tool we all have at our disposal but rarely use - our stories. Those we unknowingly live inside, that are quietly shaping what we believe is (and isn’t) possible.

Stories like:

• “If I change my career now, I’ll have wasted all that time.”

• “You can’t want wealth and still be a good person.”

• “If I’m the emotionally evolved one, I can fix the dynamic.”

Stories cosplaying as fact.

But the beautiful thing is, once you see them, you can start to rewrite them. You can decide when a story has served its purpose and start creating space for a new one to begin.

Now, show of hands…

Who is currently stumbling their way through some sort of transition?

🙋

It might have been sparked by something external, like changing careers or the end of a relationship. Or it could be an internal shake-up; you’ve started questioning the things you used to believe in, about the world, how it works, and your place within it.

Either way, you’re in a position where life is asking for change, and you’re in that middle bit where the old has fallen away, but whatever comes next still isn’t clear.

These seasons of liminality are HARD. They require deep trust in yourself, but also in something greater than you. They’re the worst and also so so necessary. All my favourite life shifts have sat on the other side of moments like this, and having spent a lot of time existing in this in-between bit, I can tell you from experience: you can definitely make these seasons easier or harder for yourself.

Option 1 - the hard route. You fight it, trying to use force and distractions to ignore the calls for change, desperately clinging to the outdated story you once knew. I can tell you now, you don’t win. You still end up at wherever it is you’re being pulled towards, it just takes a lot longer, and you end up with a lot more bumps and bruises.

Option 2 - the easier route. You surrender to the stream, wherever you’re being pushed, and instead of trying to control the direction (which you can’t), you control the story you tell about the experience. This change could be the worst thing that’s happened to you, or the best, that is the bit you get to decide.

And so we’re back to stories, our focus for today.

You know the drill: go sort out your cozy setup. Make a drink, grab your journal, maybe a duvet and a little background music too. Honour and carve out this time for you.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 (+1) questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

If you’ve been here a while, you’ll have heard me say this before… our identity isn’t just who we are, it’s a collection of the stories we tell about who we are.

Psychologists call this narrative identity theory, and it’s basically the idea that we make sense of our lives by turning them into stories, complete with characters, settings, conflicts, and turning points. We edit and re-edit those stories over time to give our lives coherence, meaning, and direction.

Dan McAdams, one of the leading researchers in this space, found that people who tell “redemptive stories” - ones where they make meaning from pain and see growth or transformation on the other side - tend to live happier, more resilient, and purpose-driven lives. In contrast, people who get stuck in contamination stories - where good events turn bad or setbacks confirm a sense of powerlessness- often feel trapped, hopeless, and less capable of change.

What’s wild is that these aren’t stories we consciously craft; we’re often completely unaware of them. They’re stories we’ve inherited from family, culture, religion, or past versions of ourselves, trying to make sense of things. They live under the surface, subtly shaping how we experience the world. They decide whether we interpret ‘not getting the job’ as “proof I’m not good enough” or “a plot twist I’ll learn from.”

They even start to shape our biology; your nervous system literally reacts differently depending on the story your brain tells about what’s happening. That’s why the same event can feel empowering for one person and devastating for another. The difference isn’t what happened, but the story being told about it. It’s subtle, but that shift in storytelling can change everything about how a transition feels.

And life transitions can be hard, but they’re also where our stories get rewritten.

They’re the moments when the old narrative no longer fits, and we’re left in that messy middle, trying to figure out what comes next. But instead of closing your eyes and desperately trying to rush into the next chapter, these are the moments you have the opportunity to write it.

That’s where awareness comes in. Once you start noticing the stories you’re currently telling, the ones quietly narrating how you see yourself, what you think you deserve, what you believe is possible, you get to decide whether they’re actually serving you anymore.

You can begin asking:

• What story am I telling about this transition?

• Who told it to me first?

• What story would make this season feel more hopeful, more meaningful, more me?

When you choose to tell a different story, you don’t erase the hard parts. You just give them context, and in that context, meaning. That’s what helps the chaos start to feel coherent again.

So if you’re in that middle bit right now, try this: stop fighting to “figure it out,” and start listening to the story you’ve been living inside. The story you’re telling yourself about this season of life. Because once you see it, you can start to reimagine it, not as an ending, but as the beginning of a new chapter you actually want to live.

And that’s where you start to take your power back.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Think of a defining moment in your life so far. What would it look like to “try on” different stories about it? 

   For example, a breakup could be seen as: The failure that proves I’m unlucky in love OR a necessary ending that made room for growth. How does each version feel, and which story supports where you’re going next?

2. What story about “how your life is supposed to go” are you unconsciously performing? And who actually wrote it? Your culture, parents, a past self?

3. If your life had background music right now, what genre/vibe would it be? And what story does that soundtrack support?

BONUS QUESTION

4. Who/What benefits from you keeping your current story?

[A DARE]

This week,

I dare you to take your story into your own hands. Write the next chapter of your life, starting with the sentence:

“And this was the moment everything changed…”

Don’t overthink it. Let it flow. It could be dramatic, messy, funny, even a little unrealistic.

The point isn’t to predict the future perfectly; it’s to give yourself permission to author the next part of your story, even if it’s just on the page for today. Notice how it feels to imagine a new possibility, and how different that feels from being stuck in the old narrative you’ve been living inside.

I’ll be doing it too, so if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine ;) Just hit reply, and we can start to write these next chapters together.

I’m excited.

See you on a Sunday,

L

Hi friend!

So… did you notice?

(It’s ok if you didn’t)

We missed a Sunday together.

You should’ve received an email from me two Sundays ago, but for the first time in the history of this newsletter, I decided not to send it.

For a number of reasons (which I might touch on later). But the one I want to focus on today is this: the power in intentionally doing things that free you from the shackles of “what will they think?”

I’m really proud of this little newsletter-shaped project. It’s arguably been one of the few consistencies in my life this past year — no matter the location, time zone, or season of life, every other Sunday, we send the email.

But last weekend, things felt different. I felt different.

And one thing I’ve learned to trust, even when it makes no sense, is my gut. So I listened. But of course, it was still hard.

“Inconsistency kills businesses.”
“People will stop trusting you.”
“You’re going to disappoint the community.”

The internal (mean) voices got really loud.

And yes, maybe all of those things could happen. But they didn’t.

Because, back to my initial question - did you even notice?

This isn’t me diminishing the impact of this newsletter, or the relationship we’ve built here, but it is a reminder that we often think people care about what we do (or don’t do)… way more than they actually do.

I missed a newsletter, and the world didn’t end. My inbox wasn’t flooded with hate.

And it made me realize how often we build invisible cages out of imagined judgment. Cages that keep us from resting, creating, trying, or showing up in new ways.

When in reality, the only person thinking about you like that… is probably you.

So that’s what we’re exploring today:

How many of your decisions are centred around the imaginary judgy eyes. And what life might look like if you stopped focusing on “them” and started prioritizing you.

As always, go find your journal, beverage, and cozy reflection spot. I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on cramped Tokyo trains.

This is actually a thing. There are white gloved guys who push people in

Trying to get anywhere during rush hour is basically a full-contact sport.

I’m usually wedged between someone sleeping, school kids laughing with their friends, couples on first dates, someone wearing too much deodorant, and someone else who clearly forgot theirs 🙃

So yeah, I spend a lot of time around people.

And yet, I couldn’t tell you a single thing about the humans I stood next to today. Nothing. Even those a few inches from my face.

And I’d bet they couldn’t tell you much about me either - definitely not that I was stressing about my hair being frizzy, or that I’d forgotten deodorant (yes, I was that person today), or that I was the annoying girl with the suitcase.

If they noticed at all, it was for a second before their attention snapped back to their own world.

That’s the harsh - but kind of liberating - truth: people really aren’t thinking about you like that.

And yet, we spend so much of our lives worrying about what other people are thinking. Replaying conversations, filtering ideas, shrinking our expression, when, statistically speaking, they’ve already moved on.

This isn’t meant in a bleak way. Of course, people care. You care about your friends, your partner, your family. You’d stop to help a stranger in need.

But it’s the little things - the hair, the outfit, the stumble, the silence - that we overinflate into evidence that we’re being constantly watched or judged. And it’s those tiny moments that keep us hidden, stiff, and smaller than we actually are.

And from a psychology standpoint, this all makes sense.

Our brains evolved to care deeply about what others think, because belonging once meant survival. Being cast out from the tribe wasn’t a metaphor; it was a death sentence. So our nervous system still scans for signs of disapproval like our life depends on it.

And despite being surrounded by billions of people, our brains are still wired for a village. It can’t process that many opinions, so instead, we create an imaginary audience.

Social psychologists call this the spotlight effect, our tendency to overestimate how much other people notice or care about our behaviour. In one famous study, researchers had participants wear a bright Barry Manilow T-shirt into a room of strangers and then guess how many people noticed it. The wearers thought half the room would, in reality, only a quarter did.

(just in case you were wondering)

It’s not vanity. It’s wiring.

Your brain assumes you’re the main character in everyone else’s story, because you’re the main character in your own. But the truth is, everyone around you is too busy figuring out their own movie.

We can also blame our early years for this wiring (of course). As kids, our smallest actions were met with applause - you smile, take a step, say your first word, and the whole room lights up. You’re used to being watched, celebrated, mirrored back. Then you grow up, and you ace a presentation, post something vulnerable, or change your hair… and for the most part, it’s cool. But no one throws confetti.

So your brain interprets the lack of attention as danger - or worse, embarrassment - instead of the neutrality it is.

And neutrality is actually freedom.

Because the same truth applies when you’re taking a risk, trying something new, or doing something a little out of character: people probably won’t care as much as your brain insists they will.

Just think of your closest friends. When they do something new or bold, you’ll celebrate them, you love that for them, but after drinks or dinner, your focus goes back to your own life. That doesn’t make you a bad friend. It makes you human.

There are billions of BITS of information competing for our attention every second - the sounds around us, the light in the room, our body temperature, our to-do list, that message we forgot to reply to. Our brains can only process a sliver of it. So your friend’s new haircut, or your new ‘slightly out there’ boots? Cute, but not top priority.

So post the thing. Wear the outfit. Take the leap. Don’t send the email.

The audience you’re performing for probably isn’t even in the room

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Whose opinion are you actually afraid of?

   The next time you find yourself hesitating about ‘doing the thing,’ pause and name specifically who you’re worried about. Not the vague “they.” The real person or people. You’ll often realize the audience in your mind is either (a) faceless or (b) not worth caring about.

2. When was the last time someone else’s opinion actually changed your life, for better or worse?

   We tend to overestimate how much people’s perceptions can impact us, so look back: how often have they really?

3. What might you do differently if you believed no one was watching?
   The outfits. The words. The risks. The pauses.

[A DARE]

This week’s dare is simple but profound.

I dare you to…

do (or don’t do) something guided purely by what feels right for you.

Not what will look good. Not what will “make sense.” Not what will please or impress or protect you from imaginary judgment.

Just you, and what you want.

And if your mind is going blank, here’s a (non-exhaustive) list of the kinds of things people often don’t do because of fear of other people’s opinions — see what sparks something in you:

• Wearing the outfit you love but think is “too much”

• Dancing at a party when no one else is

• Posting the idea you can’t stop thinking about

• Saying no to a plan, even if it disappoints someone

• Saying yes to something new that feels “off brand”

• Asking the question you think you “should already know”

• Showing up alone somewhere

• Eating lunch solo without pretending to text

• Going makeup-free

• Wearing bright lipstick or no lipstick at all

• Changing your hair drastically

• Sharing your art, your writing, your opinions online

• Speaking up in a meeting

• Resting instead of performing productivity

• Starting over — a career, a city, a relationship

• Leaving the group chat unread

• Signing up for something that scares you (a class, a race, a therapy session)

• Saying you don’t want kids

• Saying you do want kids

• Admitting you care deeply about something uncool

• Unfollowing people who drain you

• Admitting you’re proud of yourself

• Saying “I don’t know” out loud

• Walking away from something that looks good on paper but feels wrong

• Crying in front of someone

• Laughing loudly

• Being the first to say “I love you”

Pick one thing. Then, do it your way.

No justification. No overexplaining.

Just the quiet, radical act of doing what’s right for you, and letting the imaginary audience fade into background.

See you on a Sunday,

L

Hey!

How’s your September going? Slow? Intense? Lovely? Weird?

That’s not a rhetorical question, hit reply and let me know.

These last couple of weeks have been the most disconnected I’ve been from the rest of the world in a long time (but naturally, the most connected I’ve been to myself).

So when I ask how things are, I really do mean it.

I’ve been off social, barely checking my phone, and this newsletter is the only “work-shaped” thing I’ve done. I’ve truly been living in my own little world, and as I wrote 2 weeks ago, the space has been necessary!

I can feel myself slowly wanting to emerge from the cocoon, although it’s not an easy decision. I really do thrive in silence - which isn’t always a good thing - but when it comes to reconnecting or re-identifying myself to myself, it’s always game-changing.

The “re-identifying” phrasing has been borrowed from the formidable Nina Simone.

It’s part of one of my all-time favourite quotes. During a 1968 interview, she was talking about the music industry and how hard it is to walk the tightrope between doing your best work and making money. She said:

“I have to constantly re-identify myself to myself, reactivate my own standards, my own convictions about what I’m doing and why.”

I’m going to let you read that again -

Think about that in the context of today’s world - with its constant divides, feeds, trends, and pressures. This practice isn’t optional. It’s a requirement.

It also sits at the core of why I do the work that I do, because self-stuff is hard. And I can tell you from both a lived experience and business perspective - very few people do it [It being: regularly getting intentional with themselves].

So that’s what we’ll be exploring today.

And don’t think I forgot 👀… go find that journal, beverage and cozy reading place.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

You know the one…

The friend, colleague, sibling, (maybe even a past version of you), who, after months of trying to ignore it, wakes up one day and realizes they hate their life. It’s not what they thought they were choosing.

They’re married to the person they used to love 5 years ago.

They’re a decade into a career which was meant to be the temporary job after university.

They have a lot of acquaintances, people they’d grab drinks with, but very few deep, enriching friendships.

At one time or another, I’ve been able to resonate with elements of all of these. Most of us have.

But do you know the story I’ve never once heard?

The opposite of this.

The person who accidentally wakes up in a life full of integrity. Where the money flows in through work that feels fulfilling and aligned. Where they’re in a relationship with their dream person, values matched, communication effortless, chemistry alive. Where friendships are deep and dependable, full of joy and honesty. Where they feel strong, healthy and IN their body, without dieting, pressure or restrictions.

Anyone know someone who ‘stumbled’ into this… ?

I’m willing to bet no, because a life like this doesn’t “just” happen.

Unfortunately, you can’t unintentionally build an intentional life. The math doesn’t math.

And for most of us in this community, the life I just described, with fulfilling work, deep friendships, a strong self and romantic love, is the kind of life we’re trying to move towards. But the reality is, it’s rare. Because it takes work and daily effort in a world that glorifies ease and speed. And that isn’t said from a judgy place, it does, and I love speed and ease as much as the next person. But in this area of life, it just doesn’t work. Being the person you want to be - a definition that will change over time - isn’t a one-time decision; it’s a practice.

And not ‘someday’, or when ‘things settle down’.

Today.

Through the choices you make, the standards you hold, the ways you re-identify yourself to yourself.

Psychology would call this self-concordance (the alignment between your goals and your values). Research shows people pursuing self-concordant goals don’t just achieve more - they feel more alive while doing it.

And who doesn’t want to feel alive?

The first step is actually knowing your values. But the work is actually living them, which requires revisiting, reactivating and practicing.

That’s what Nina knew. And it’s what I keep circling back to in my own life and my work: living as your favourite self isn’t an accident. It’s a practice.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. If you were to re-identify yourself to yourself today, what standards or convictions would you want to reactivate?

2. What are your standards or convictions (they may be your values)?

   These are 3 or 4 words or sentiments that steer the direction of your life.

3. What are you intentional about? What areas of your life are you most proud of?
   Could be health, friendship, work, faith etc.

[A DARE]

This week,

I dare you to choose one small act of re-identification.

Maybe it’s writing down a conviction you want to hold yourself to. Maybe it’s getting clear on your values. Maybe it’s saying no to something you’d usually agree to. Maybe it’s practicing a habit your future self would thank you for.

Make it tiny. Make it doable. But make it intentional.

Because drifting happens quietly. But so does transformation.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these. Coaching is currently fully booked for September and October, but the waitlist for November is open [here].

In the meantime, something exciting is on the way — a way for you to start your own practice. A tool built from my knowledge, experience, and lessons over the past few years, designed for you to actually bring into your life (lounge).

It’s been years in the making (with a recent pause these past few weeks), but we’re in the final stretch now. Finishing touches are happening over the next couple of weeks… which means it’ll be in your hands very soon.

See you on a Sunday,

L

Hiii friend,

You know the deal by now - If you’re not already settled with your journal, drink (and snacks), go do that now. We’ll wait…

Today we’re talking about something we rarely give ourselves enough of:

space.

This year has been… a lot.

Not in the loud, world-stopping way 2020 was.

It’s been quieter. Sneakier. Change and pressure building under the surface. The constant hum of genocide and global crises layered on top of our own personal “stuff” — redundancies, babies, breakups, AI, health scares…

As I said - it’s been a lot.

But because we’ve lived through the years of “quarantines” and “unprecedented times,” I worry that we’ve built a dangerous tolerance. If it’s not a pandemic, it’s easily downplayed and dismissed as “not that deep” or just “what it is”.

We normalize. We push through. And sure, sometimes we need to.
But the cost is that one day you wake up and realize things are absolutely not fine.

(They were, in fact, very deep.)

It makes me think of that scene from Spirited Away.

IYKYK

A nod to the idea of death by a thousand paper cuts. You don’t feel the first few. Or the tenth. But one day you wake up and realize that all of a sudden you’re on the edge.

In full transparency: I’m working through my own version of that right now. Maybe it’s the move across the world (again), maybe it’s losing my routines and comforts, maybe it’s September being that kind of month. Maybe it’s a little bit of all the above.

Either way, with the distractions stripped back, I’ve been left with… space.

And in that space, the whispers and questions I’ve been ignoring are suddenly louder. It’s uncomfortable (I hate the unknown), but also, I can feel that tucked inside the discomfort is possibility. Growth. Maybe even something exciting.

And that’s what we’re exploring today. The power and importance of space.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

Space is uncomfortable.

We avoid it. Fill it. Numb it.

But it’s also one of the most fertile grounds for self-discovery.

In psychology, there’s a concept called stimulus-free processing (sexy, I know). It’s your brain’s natural ability to repair, reorganize, and connect dots when it isn’t drowning in input. Those stretches of “nothing time” - waiting in line, taking a shower, going for a walk - are actually when your default mode network kicks in. That’s the system responsible for reflection, imagination, and weaving together your past, present, and future.

It’s why ideas pop up when you’re brushing your teeth, or why a problem you’ve been chewing on for weeks suddenly clicks when you’re out for a run. Your brain needs space to surface what’s been simmering underneath.

And it’s not just science. Spiritually, traditions across the world have always honoured space: meditation, silence, fasting, time in nature. Practices that look like “doing nothing” on the outside, but are actually portals on the inside. The space is sacred.

The trouble is, modern life has trained us to believe the opposite. We measure our worth in output. If we’re not producing, achieving, or proving, something must be wrong. So space feels lazy. Or worse, threatening. Because silence is where the truths we’ve been avoiding finally get loud enough to hear.

And yet, this is the paradox: space is where the next version of us is born. Without it, we stay in autopilot, living out old and outdated patterns, over and over again.

With it, we allow reinvention.

Think about winter. On the surface, it looks like nothing is happening. The trees are bare, the soil is frozen. But underground, roots are thickening, systems are rewiring, energy is storing up for the next season. Rest is not absence. It’s preparation.

The same applies to us. Space is where new questions arrive, where old dreams reappear, where the whispers of change get louder. It doesn’t mean we have to overhaul our whole lives in one go. Sometimes it just means creating small pauses: a commute without headphones, a morning without your phone, five minutes of quiet before bed. Little doorways for clarity to walk through.

So maybe this season isn’t about doing more, but about daring to pause.
To create silence.
To sit in the discomfort.
To trust that something important is trying to emerge.

Because space isn’t absence. It’s an invitation.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Think about the last time you had an unexpected moment of silence (on a walk, in the shower, waiting for something). What surfaced?

2. Where in your life right now do you feel the most crowded or overstimulated? How could you make a little more space?

3. Picture your life as a winter season right now. What’s happening “beneath the soil” for you?
   

[A DARE]

This week, I dare you to create one intentional pocket of space.

It could be a commute in silence. A walk without your phone. A weekend morning without plans. Notice what surfaces when you don’t fill the gaps.

It might feel uncomfortable at first, but stay with it. The discomfort is often just the signal that you’re finally listening.

Pheww. Although we’re only 9 months in, I have a feeling many of us will look back and realize how much this year changed us. I don’t know exactly what’s on the other side of the space I’m sitting in right now…. but I trust that it’s growth.

See you on a Sunday,

L

P.S. If this resonated, forward it to a friend who could use a little breathing room. They can »> Sign up here «<

Hiii friend,

Settle in - grab that beverage, maybe some snacks, and get comfortable.

Today’s email has been inspired by a beautiful piece my friend Dani wrote - which was inspired by a question I asked her - about a book she was telling me about - during a conversation we had on Monday.

very inception coded

The power of introspective conversations with your favourite people!

Her article was titled When was the last time you wrote for you? and in it, she writes:

Whether she claims the identity of “writer” or not, it cannot be denied that Dani has a beautiful way with words (you can explore more of her work here).

After years of fumbling my way through messaging and positioning for SELFHOOD, in these three paragraphs, she has absolutely nailed it - why I believe this work is so important, and the conversations I wish more people were having.

So let’s talk about it. Specifically, that part about “giving yourself permission to flirt with your many identities”.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you.

[A LESSON]

One of the most liberating ideas I’ve come across in psychology is from James Marcia’s theory of identity status. It suggests that identity isn’t something you have — it’s something you’re constantly exploring and evolving.

We tend to treat identity like it’s a final destination:
“I’m this kind of person.”
“I’m not that.”
“I’ve always been like this.”

But that way of thinking can quietly trap us.

There’s a concept in psychology called self-complexity. It’s the idea that we’re made up of multiple, distinct parts. Not just one identity, but a collection of roles, interests, and ways of being. Research shows that people with higher self-complexity — meaning they have a more diverse, flexible sense of self — tend to experience:

• Better emotional resilience. When one area of life goes wrong, it doesn’t shatter your entire sense of who you are.

• Lower stress levels. You’re less likely to feel overwhelmed because you’re not putting all your self-worth in one basket.

• Greater well-being overall. You have more “rooms to retreat to” internally, more sources of meaning, more ways to express yourself.

Think about it: if your entire identity is wrapped up in being a “successful professional,” a bad week at work can feel catastrophic. But if you also see yourself as a curious learner, a playful friend, a committed runner, an aspiring painter, you have other doorways to step through. Other ways to feel whole.

Flirting with your identities means consciously cultivating this kind of self-complexity.

It’s giving yourself permission to:

• Be serious and silly.

• Be ambitious and nurturing.

• Be a leader at work and a beginner in dance class.

Not because you have to “do it all,” but because you deserve to experience the fullness of who you are.

Psychologists have found that people with flexible, multifaceted identities are not only happier but also more adaptable; they navigate change with less fear because they’re used to shifting between selves. They trust that no matter what life throws at them, there’s another version of them ready to rise to it.

So as I’ve said before, maybe the work isn’t to “find yourself” once and for all.
Maybe it’s to keep discovering yourself, over and over again.

Because your identities? They’re not walls to contain you.
As Dani so beautifully put, they’re doorways to meet more of you.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Where could you give yourself low-stakes permission to experiment with a new side of you this week?

2. What identities have you previously flirted with (those parts that may have only stuck around for a season or two)?

3. Who do you know that is great at flirting (with the many parts of who they are)? What could you learn from them?
   

[A DARE]

This week I dare you to…

Do something that surprises even you.

Something that would make the people who “think they know you” tilt their head and go, huh? Not to prove anything. Not for the gram. Just to remind yourself how many doorways you still have to walk through.

My flight to Japan boards in 2 hours, so I know there will be several new doorways waiting for me on the other side. I can’t wait!

See you on a Sunday,

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Hiii friend 👋🏾

Before we get into it — a quick warning ⚠️

This email will require you to hold two (seemingly contradictory) truths at once.

Which, given you’re here, I’m not too worried about. Nuance, grey areas, and annoying paradoxes are the world of identity. But just in case you’re reading along thinking, “Wait... isn’t that a contradiction?” — yes, it kind of is.

Because that’s the reality of this topic, there will be a lot of yes AND.

Also, you know the deal. If you haven’t already, go grab a snack, something warm (or strong), and find your cozy spot.

It’s time for some Sunday self-exploration.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you 

[A LESSON]

I’ve been thinking a lot about environment lately.

Not the “reduce your plastic” kind (although, yes, that too), but the environment you live in.

The people you see. The places you go. The routines you’re in. Even the corners of your home that you forget exist until it’s time to clean them.

Environment holds a quiet power over us.

Depending on where you are — and who you’re around — it can either pull you forward or keep you stuck.

Ya’know…

How much easier it is to stay disciplined when you're surrounded by people with solid habits.

Or how easy it is to slip back into old patterns just by stepping into your childhood home.

That’s not an accident.

Joe Dispenza talks about how your external environment can trigger internal patterns. You wake up, check your phone, drink from the same mug (I’m very particular about my mugs), sit in the same spot, drive the same route…

…and without realizing it, you’ve unconsciously recreated yesterday.
And the day before that.
And the day before that.

You’re not lazy.
You’re conditioned.

In behavioural science, this is known as contextual cues — signals in your environment that trigger habits, thoughts, and behaviours.

If you always eat ice cream on the couch, your brain starts to associate “couch” with “ice cream.” If you’ve always played small at your job, just walking into that office can cue those old feelings, even if you’ve outgrown them.

That’s why big shifts often start to stick when we change our environment. It interrupts the loop. You stop reacting and start choosing.

So sometimes, the fastest way to shift something inside you is to change what’s around you.

BUT HERE’S THE CATCH…

➡️ Yes, environment matters.
Changing your surroundings can help break a cycle.

AND

➡️ No, it’s not a magic fix.
Because wherever you go… There you are.

(Same patterns, same thoughts, same stories, just now with better lighting.)

Because yes, a change of environment can definitely make space for something new, but change won’t last unless you pair it with intention.

Because you can move to Bali and still procrastinate.
Start a new job and still people-please.
End a relationship and still carry the same self-doubt into the next one.

If you want real transformation?

Here’s the combo move:

🌀 Change the cue and change the pattern.
🌀 Shift the setting and do the work.
🌀 Explore the world and explore yourself.

Because the identity work is what helps you notice your patterns.

To stop assuming your reactions are just “who you are”, and start getting intentional about who you want to be.

Sometimes, that is as simple as working backwards. Spending 10–15 minutes getting into your body and tuning into those internal nudges pulling you toward growth.

Getting clear on who you’re being called to become… your favourite version of you. Then, asking: What would their day-to-day look like in this new environment?

Because when you’re in a season of change, you have the luxury of space and the rare opportunity to shape something new on purpose.

Speaking of new environments and seasons of change….

It brings me to a little life update…

We’re moving to Japan in a couple weeks (!!) eeeeeeeek!

It’s a big shift, and I’m genuinely excited to see how it stretches the parts of me I’ve been meeting through this identity work.

Not because I expect to become a whole new person, but because I know how powerful it is when a new environment meets deep intention.

And still — I’m not putting all my eggs in the “new country, new me” basket.

Because the real work doesn’t just happen out there.

It happens in here.

Which is why the most profound transformation? Always requires both.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. If your home, routine, or workspace had a voice, what would it say about who you are right now? Would it be right?

2. What’s one environment that brings out the best in you?

3. What’s one object in your space that holds an old story you’re ready to rewrite?
   (e.g. A gift from someone you’ve outgrown? A book you’ve never read? A pair of jeans that no longer feel like you?)
   

[A DARE]

This week, I dare you to:

Make a conscious environmental shift.

Big or small. Temporary or permanent.

Try:

• Rearranging your workspace to feel more energizing

• Going on your daily walk in a totally new direction

• Spending time with people who mirror who you want to be, not just who you’ve been

Don’t just hope for change.
Design for it.

Set up your space — and your life — to support the person you’re becoming.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

Take yourself on a guaranteed good date.

Actually make the changes, you say you want

I have 2 private coaching spots remaining for September. This is for those of you who are done spinning in circles and ready to make a meaningful shift.

In these 6-week 1:1 sessions, we’ll rebuild the foundation — your values, beliefs, and core identity patterns, so that stepping into your next chapter stops feeling like a fight… and becomes inevitable.

Let this week be your reminder:

Environment matters. But intention matters more.

Change the cue, do the work, and keep exploring.

See you on a Sunday,

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Morning!

I hope this finds you with something iced, something cozy, or something calming in hand.

If not, you already know what I’m about to say… go get it.

No judgement. I don’t know what time you’re reading this

This is your Sunday self-exploration time.

Today’s reflection is a vulnerable one (although when isn’t it lol).

It’s about a space I think a lot of us end up in… but don’t always have words for.

I call it: The Identity Gap.

I’ve been in it so many times before, and yet, it always catches me off guard and hits like a ton of bricks.

It starts as this vague “off” feeling - easy to blame on your period, the planets, or work stress.

There’s a low level tension.
An internal pull in two directions.
That rising feeling of dissonance and a lot of questions… do I still enjoy this work? Is this the life I want? Do I still want to live here?

You start to feel a distance forming. From your routines. From friends. From yourself.
And the usual culprits - burnout or breakdown, don’t quite fit.

It’s something in between.

And it turns out, more specifically, that you’re in between.

You’re living in that strange, lonely space between who you used to be… and who you’re becoming. People see one thing, and you feel another.

It’s TOUGH - feeling so out of sync with the world. No longer stable in the relationship you’d built with yourself.

And I would know, as I’m in it right now. I think a few of us are.

So let’s explore it together.

As always, I have a lesson, 3 questions and a dare for you 

[A LESSON]

The identity gap is the space between how the world sees you…

… and how you feel inside.

It often shows up as:

→ Feeling misaligned or disconnected
→ Playing a role that doesn’t quite fit anymore
→ Saying “I’m fine,” while your inner world is anything but
→ Wanting to show up differently, but defaulting to old patterns

And while it feels like something is wrong, it’s usually just a sign that something’s changing.

which doesn’t make it suck any less

Here’s what psychology tells us:

1. Your sense of self is constantly evolving.
In developmental psychology, this process is called identity reconstruction.
As we move through major transitions, career shifts, breakups, burnout, even success, our internal self-concept tries to catch up to a new external reality.

But here’s the catch: that internal shift doesn’t always keep pace with the external world, or how others perceive us. That mismatch? That’s the gap.

2. Self-concept clarity matters. A lot.
Research shows that people with higher self-concept clarity (a clear and confident understanding of who you are) tend to experience greater emotional well-being, resilience, and sense of purpose.

But clarity doesn’t always feel clear at first. In fact, it often drops before it expands.
When you’re in transition, your previous sense of self starts to blur — before the next one fully clicks into place. That’s this bit.

Uncomfortable? Yes.
But necessary? Absolutely.

Ugh.

3. The gap creates dissonance AND opportunity.
Cognitive dissonance is what we feel when our internal beliefs and our external identity or behaviours don’t align. It creates psychological tension and our minds desperately want to resolve that.

So the discomfort you’re feeling?
It’s not just emotional — it’s neurological.
Your brain is actively trying to reconcile who you were with who you’re becoming.

And if you can stay with that process, instead of numbing it or rushing through it, you’ll come out the other side with a deeper, more integrated sense of self.

Because the truth is:

You’re not “lost.”
You’re just in the hallway between identities.

And even when it feels like nothing’s working…
The real work is happening underneath. You are moving, changing and evolving.

So keep going.

I unfortunately know this season WELL (it feels like I’m here every couple of years). So here are a few things that help me navigate it

• Daily self-check-ins. I spend 7 minutes in silence (just listening to my body and thoughts), followed by 1–2 pages of stream-of-consciousness journaling.

• Doing small things that nourish me. Reading over lunch, taking breaks, treating myself to a bougie coffee — little signals of care.

• Listening to the nudges. Noticing the pulls, the sparks, the quiet whispers of the next version of me (and taking note).

• Being more honest. When people ask how I’m doing, I try to tell the truth — even if it’s just a little more real than usual.

• Getting excited. Change can be scary and uncomfortable… but it’s also what keeps life alive. I remind myself that something new is trying to take shape. A new chapter is on the horizon.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Where in your life are you acting out of alignment with how you actually feel?

2. What values or new ways of being are starting to call you forward?

3. When can you schedule some REAL time with yourself this week? A slow morning, coffee date, quiet evening at home? etc.
   

[A DARE]

This week, I dare you to name the gap.

Not in a vague, “I’m feeling off” kind of way.

But clearly. Compassionately. In detail.

Name where you feel disconnected. Name what feels false. Name what’s trying to shift, even if you don’t have the exact language for it yet. Try…

You can write it. Speak it. Voice-note it to a friend.

But the simple act of naming it? That’s how reintegration begins.

You don’t need to “figure it all out.”

You just need to stop pretending you’re not changing.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

We’re coming up on two and a half years of building the world of SELFHOOD full-time — and it means so much to finally see this idea, once only in my head, start to come to life.

The vision has always been clear: To build the go-to space for anyone navigating a self or identity “thing.” Somewhere, people could come when they felt lost, stuck, or ready for something more and be met with options and experiences that meet them exactly where they’re at.

And we’re getting there. Slowly but surely.

→ Start with a Self-Date.

If you’re looking to get back into (or start!) journaling — you’ll want to try our Self-Dating experience. It’s a 90-minute guided journey that introduces you to the version of you who exists today — including the stories you’ve been telling yourself… and the ones you might be ready to rewrite.

→ Want something deeper + tailored?

We have a few private coaching spots open in August. This is for those of you who are done spinning in circles and ready to make a meaningful shift.

In these 6-week 1:1 sessions, we’ll rebuild the foundation — your values, beliefs, and core identity patterns — so that stepping into your next chapter stops feeling like a fight… and becomes inevitable.

→ Something in between? Coming soon.

We’ve been quietly working on something new - an experience that bridges the two. It’ll give you coaching and guidance, but in a self-paced format designed for those currently moving through the in-between. The “I’m not who I was… but I’m not quite sure who I’m becoming yet” space.

If that’s where you are right now and you want something to hold your hand through it, reply to this email with “I’m in the gap”, and we’ll reach out when it’s ready.

Thanks for being here, and for choosing to keep meeting more of yourself.

We’re just getting started.

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Goooood morning!!

Not sure why, but it feels like it’s been longer than a couple of weeks since we last hung out.

I hope your summer’s off to a nourishing start. It’s been busy but good over here.

We also have quite a few new faces, so if that’s you, hiiiiii 👋🏾 I’m so glad you’re here.

You’ll hear me say this often, but if you’re not already cozied up somewhere with a drink and your journal, go do that now.

This is your Sunday self-exploration time.

Today’s reflection was sparked by a Tumblr post I came across months ago that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

Well… less ‘thinking about’. More the feeling it gave me.

It felt soft. Familiar. Like a hug. A reminder that “small but mighty” is a real thing.
A celebration of all those seemingly tiny ways we still carry the people we’ve loved, even if only for a season.

So today, we’re exploring those parts of you. The ones you’ve absorbed from the people who’ve passed through your life, whether they were permanent fixtures or just characters in a chapter.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you.

Let’s get into it.

[A LESSON]

• I take my coffee black because that’s how my mum drinks it.

• One of my favourite movies is Remember the Titans — because it’s my dad’s.

• My going-out playlist? One that was made for my friend’s 25th.

• I listen to church music when I clean the bath, because my roomie used to

What about you?

What little pieces in your life — your routines, your tastes, your choices — came from someone else?

So many of our preferences, habits, and quirks didn’t just appear. They were passed on, picked up, or left behind like artifacts of connection.

Even people who broke our hearts left fingerprints on us.

One of the core messages behind my work — something I spend my days trying to help people feel in their bones — is just how vast each of us really are.

Too often, we shrink our identity down to job titles, roles, race, or gender. And while those matter, they only scratch the surface.

You are a mosaic.

Layered with the sounds, scents, styles, sayings, and soft rituals of the people you’ve shared space with. Even if just for a weekend. Even if you don’t talk anymore.

And science backs this up.

Psychologists call it social imprinting, the idea that our identities are shaped by the people we bond with, especially during emotionally heightened or transitional moments.

anyone else’s mind go there LOL? IYKYK.

Whether it’s a song, a smell, or a Sunday routine, our brains begin to associate those things with connection. Over time, they become part of our story.

There’s another fascinating concept called transactive memory systems — which basically means we outsource parts of our functioning to the people we’re close to.

One friend remembers birthdays. Another always knows the directions. Someone else curates your music taste.

(My mum has always been my “birthday go-to.” She gets the same “is it their birthday today” texts from me every year.)

When those relationships fade or end, we can feel disoriented, not just because of grief, but because we’ve lost a piece of how we operated.

Even memory itself is social. Studies show we recall stories, values, and preferences differently depending on who we’re with.

Which makes sense as: Identity is co-created.

And there’s something oddly comforting about that. It reminds us that who we are isn’t fixed or solitary, it’s fluid. Evolving. Shared.

This kind of noticing is where self-discovery really begins. Not by building some ideal version of yourself, but by gently peeling back the layers and asking:

Where did this part of me come from?
Is it still mine, or am I just holding onto it out of habit?

Which leads us perfectly to the next part…

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. What’s a small habit, taste, or opinion you have that came from someone else?

2. Who are three people who’ve shaped your everyday life in quiet, lasting ways?

3. What identity, process, or preference are you holding onto out of habit?
   

[A DARE]

This week, (it’s a cute one), I dare you to…

Start a little chain of impact.

Tell someone about a part of you that came from them — a habit, a phrase, a recipe, a ritual, even something tiny.

Maybe it’s the way you fold laundry.
Or the show you rewatch when you’re sad.
Or how you say “love you, bye” on phone calls now, because they did.

Say it out loud. Share it in a DM. Send a voice note. Post it if you want to go wide.

However you do it, just let them know: "Hey, this little piece of me came from you."

Then, invite them to pass it on.
Ask them: What’s a part of you that came from someone else?

When we share these stories, we remind each other that we leave quiet legacies everywhere, often without even realizing it.

Let’s build a chain of gratitude.
Of identity, shared and shaped.

Because the smallest parts of us are often the most powerful.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

🎉 INTRODUCING - SELF-DATING: HOME EDITION 🎉

I am personally SO excited about this!!

eeeek

I can’t tell you how many messages we’ve received from people who wanted to take part in Self-Dating, but couldn’t due to schedule conflicts, funds, or being on the other side of the world 🤷🏽‍♀️

So we fixed that - and now you can!!

Introducing Self-Dating: Home Edition, a carefully curated digital experience that will allow you to bring the magic of Self-Dating to wherever you are in the world.

Here’s how it works:
→ You’ll start with a short video to help you set up your space for the perfect vibes
→ Then, you’ll move through 6 guided stations, designed to help you reflect, explore, and meet more of yourself
→ The whole experience takes about 60–90 minutes
→ All you need is some solo time, a cozy spot, and a willingness to be real with you

We’re kicking off with the same theme as our last IRL event: Your Self-Concept is Showing (so if you were at that one, you’ve already been on this date).

But if you weren’t — and you’re curious about the stories you tell yourself (and the rest of the world) about who you are… This one’s for you.

And the best part? It’s only $26 for the first 50 Self-Daters, and you get dibs. The rest of the world finds out tomorrow.

Grab your journal, carve out a couple of hours, and get ready to (re)introduce yourself to… you.

It can also serve as the perfect present for that friend or sister who could do with a little ‘me time’.

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. This is just the first of many, so if you have specific topics or themes you’d like a Self-Dating experience built around, let us know!

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Hiiii friend 👋🏾

I read something the other day that said people are like rivers.

Or at least — we could be 👀

But before I get into it, you know the deal….

If you aren’t already, go find that cozy spot, grab your journal, and perhaps a snack or beverage whilst you’re at it. It’s time for some Sunday self-exploration!

SO,

When was the last time you stood beside a river?

I don’t mean metaphorically — I mean really stood there. 

Watched the way the water winds. The way it moves around every rock, every twist, every drop. It doesn’t freeze in place. It doesn’t panic at obstacles. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not.

It just… flows.

We could learn a lot from rivers.

As for many of us, we were taught to be the opposite.

Less river, more tree: fixed, steady, unshakable. Choose your path, stick to it. Be reliable. Be consistent. Don’t change your mind. Don’t disappoint anyone.

I used to think that was strength. That if I could just stay “on track,” I’d be okay. That certainty would save me. That identity had to be clear and unchanging. But I learnt pretty early on that in a world like this one, being flexible is actually the stronger move.

Especially now.

In the last few years, everything’s been shifting - jobs, relationships, truths we once relied on. It’s like the ground beneath us is moving, and so many people I talk to are exhausted from trying to pretend it’s not. From forcing themselves to stick to a version of life that isn’t working anymore.

So if someone hasn’t already told you, let me be the one to -

You’re not failing because you’re uncertain.
You’re not flaky because your path changed.
You’re not weak because you're letting go.

You’re just adjusting. Adapting. Learning to move like water instead of breaking like glass.

And I think that’s what this moment is calling for.

Let’s get into it.

It’s time for some Sunday self-exploration. 

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you. Let’s do this!

[A LESSON]

In psychology, there's a concept called psychological flexibility — the ability to adapt your thinking and behaviour in response to changing circumstances, without clinging too tightly to old patterns or identities.

Research shows that people with higher psychological flexibility experience lower anxiety, better emotional health, and greater resilience during uncertainty. Why? Because they don’t waste energy resisting reality. They allow themselves to shift.

But this isn’t easy.

Most of us were conditioned to associate “changing our mind” with failure. To equate flexibility with being lost or inconsistent. Especially if you’ve built your identity on being the reliable one, the achiever, the person with the 5-year plan.

So we dig in deeper. Stay in relationships that don’t fit. Pursue dreams we no longer want. Stick to versions of ourselves we’ve outgrown — just to feel stable in a world that no longer is.

But here’s the truth: rigid structures break. Fluid ones bend.
And right now, bendiness is a survival skill.

You’re allowed to change your mind.
You’re allowed to not know yet.
You’re allowed to become someone new.

In fact, you might need to — not because you’re lost, but because you’re alive.

The most honest thing you can do in a changing world is let yourself change too.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. Name three things you’ve changed your mind about in the last year?

2. If your life had no timeline, no pressure, and no judgment, what would you do next?

3. Where in your life are you holding on too tightly; to an idea, plan, or identity, even though it no longer feels right?
   

[A DARE]

This week, I dare you to…

Let go of one fixed idea you’ve been clinging to. Something you’ve been forcing.
Something that’s keeping you stuck.

Maybe it’s:

• A goal you’re no longer excited about

• A version of yourself you’re trying hard to maintain

• An old friendship that just doesn’t feel the same

Write it down. Say it out loud. Tell someone you trust.

I gave this exact advice to a client this week, and the shift was instant. When you let go of something outdated, notice how quickly that space gets filled. With clarity. With creativity. With a totally new direction you hadn’t even considered.

See what else becomes possible.
The more you release, the more room you create for what actually wants to find you.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

SELF-DATING

Last Sunday was beautiful! Shout out to all the wonderful humans who explored and evolved their self-concept with us. We’re still feeling the positive effects!

COACHING

If you’re moving through your own transition and wanting a little more support, speed and guidance - SELFHOOD mapping is for you. Our 6-week private container where you’ll explore and become the person you want to be.

What our clients say…

If you’re ready - APPLY HERE

If you’re curious but have questions - BOOK A CALL HERE  

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Hiiii friend 👋🏾

For my OG’s, you know exactly what I’m about to say…

Go find a cozy chair, pour a drink, and grab your journal. Welcome to your Sunday morning exploration time!

So here’s a wild idea to take into the week:

Try being less of an expert on who you are.

I know. Sounds backwards, right?

This is the email you use to try and figure yourself out. And now as you finally feel like you’re getting somewhere... I’m telling you to un-know?

Kinda, yeah 😬

I like to keep you on your toes…

But ALSO, because sometimes all that self-awareness turns into self-certainty.
And self-certainty? It’s sneaky. If you’re not careful, it can start to become a trap disguised as “truth.”

We carry these little identity scripts like personality resumes:

• “I’m anxious.”

• “I’m the responsible one.”

• “I’m bad at relationships.”

• “I always mess things up when they’re good.”

And we live into them like they're law.

We repeat them in therapy.
We joke about them on dates.
We fold our whole damn lives around them like fitted sheets.

But the thing is: just because a belief feels true, doesn’t mean it is.
(Side note: People once believed the Earth was flat and that margarine was healthy. Sooooo…. )

So that is what we will be digging into today.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you. Let’s do this!

[A LESSON]

Okay, let’s get into the messy magic here -

The story you tell yourself about who you are - your self-concept - is built on a mix of truth, trauma, survival strategies, and outdated info. 

It’s a mashup of who you really are, plus who you had to be to get through life so far.

That’s why these identities can feel so sticky, because many have helped you survive. BUT they don’t always help you live.

Think about it: If you’ve been carrying the label “anxious” for a decade, that doesn’t just show up as nervousness; it shapes how you talk to yourself, how you move through relationships, even what you believe you deserve. That label is part diagnosis, part prophecy, part prison.

The trick? Recognizing that you are not the story you tell. You’re the storyteller. And you can change the story, rewrite it, or at least open the door to a new chapter.

Having a beginner’s mind about yourself means walking into your own life with curiosity instead of a checklist. It’s less about “mastering” your identity and more about exploring it, like you’re meeting an old friend who’s had some new adventures you haven’t heard about yet.

It’s the freedom to say, “Wait, maybe I’m not just an anxious person, maybe I’m someone who thinks a lot and hates being in large crowds.” Or, “Sometimes I get anxious in new scenarios, or around certain people” (vs it being a constant state of being).

This mindset is brave because it asks you to sit with uncertainty and discomfort. It asks you to lean into the unknown parts of you instead of hiding behind what feels safe and known, even if that safety is a cage.

Here’s the thing, in my humble opinion: self-expertise is overrated. I’d argue that the people who truly thrive aren’t the ones who’ve got themselves all figured out; they’re the ones who stay open, who ask questions, who keep peeling back layers, even when it’s hard.

Exploring > Expert

Because beneath every fixed label and every neat identity is a complex, evolving human who can surprise even themselves. And honestly? That’s where the real fun begins.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. What’s something someone you don’t like (an ex, old friend, etc.) probably believes about you that isn’t true?

2. If your identity were a brand, what outdated tagline are you still using?

3. What’s something you always said “wasn’t you”, but maybe... is??
   

[A DARE]

Play a quick game with me.

It’s called the unfinished sentence. It’s a projective technique used in psychotherapy and personality assessments to uncover unconscious thoughts, feelings, and beliefs.

The idea is simple: you complete sentences like “I wish people knew…” without overthinking it.

Why? Because this helps you bypass your mental filters and gets to the deeper, often hidden parts of yourself that you don’t usually show or even realize are there.

So here’s your challenge: finish this sentence right now - no editing, no second-guessing:

“I’m not someone who…”

e.g.

• “speaks up”

• “works out”

• “makes the first move”

• “wears colour”

I dare you to be that person (at least once) this week*.

*obviously as long as that person isn’t a dick.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

SELF-DATING

WYU2 next Sunday? Wanna come Self-Dating with a bunch of us?

If you found today’s email interesting, you’ll love this event, as we will be diving into your self-concept a little more. ​Through guided prompts, reflective exercises, and paired conversations, you’ll explore:

• ​The roles, labels, and stories you've carried

• ​Where they came from (and whether they still fit)

• ​The version of you you're becoming, and the shifts needed to get there

Deets 

• A stunning hotel in downtown Toronto.

• Sunday 22nd June (next week)

• 11am-2pm

• Coffee and yummy fresh pastries (always) provided.

You know what to do…

Tickets always sell out, so please don’t be that last-minute Larry that misses out. If you want to be there, buy your ticket and make it happen.

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Happy Sunday Homies!

You know the drill: sofa, drink, journal. This is your Sunday self-exploration time.

Today’s question is simple, but potentially life-altering:

What would happen if you stopped forcing it?

I don’t mean stop trying or stop caring.
I mean stop micromanaging every outcome.

Stop performing.
Stop pushing through.
Stop trying to outwork your own exhaustion 👀

May was a transformative month for me - not because of some huge business win or external milestone (I actually made a third of what I made in April, lol), but because for the first time in a long time, I intentionally chose to rest.

To trust. To not be doing so much.

The past couple of years have been full-on hustle mode. In these 5 months alone, I’ve launched a new venture, lived in Mexico City, spent a month with family and reopened private coaching. Then we touched down in Toronto on the 27th April (yes, the same day as Self-Dating 🙃 ) and for the first time, in a long time, I could feel the space.

And honestly? It was so uncomfortable.
But also undeniable. Like something I couldn’t ignore.

This month, I stopped forcing.
I read. I walked. I let my to-do list sit half-finished.
I practiced just being, even when that felt unfamiliar.

This sat at the centre of this month’s laptop wallpaper

And I’m leaving May feeling more grounded in myself than I have in years.

So if you’ve been in a season of striving, trying to make it all happen, maybe this is your invitation to pause, too.

To stop gripping.
To stop proving.
To stop confusing struggle with worth.

Because here’s the thing:

What if your next chapter isn’t about pushing harder, but softening into something wiser?

Let’s explore that today.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you. Let’s do this!

[A LESSON]

So many of us were raised with the belief that anything worth having requires effort, struggle, and sacrifice. And while resilience is beautiful, it’s not the only way.

Sometimes the more courageous move is to - release.

To pause.
To listen.
To trust that you don’t need to grip so tightly to be safe.

This is especially true for my fellow recovering perfectionists, high-achievers, and those who've had to work twice as hard to get half as far. When your nervous system is trained to chase, ease can feel suspicious.

But there’s a difference between hard work and forcing.

Hard work is focused effort.
Forcing is fear in disguise.

It’s fear that if you don’t push, it won’t happen.
That you’ll fall behind. That you aren’t good enough.
That the life meant for you won’t stick around.

But here’s the truth: the most aligned things often do stick around. And they feel better when you’re not muscling your way through.

So if you’ve been in a season of “make it happen,” maybe it’s time to ask: What if I let it happen?

Instead of controlling the pace, can you stay in relationship with it?
Can you be the version of yourself who receives, not just the one who earns?

This isn’t about being passive. It’s about being present.
Listening for what’s alive instead of pushing what’s not.

The psychology behind it?

There’s a powerful body of research that helps us understand this:
Psychologists often distinguish between two ways of engaging with the world — primary control and secondary control.

• Primary control is about action. It’s trying to change your circumstances to suit your goals.

• Secondary control is about adaptation. It’s adjusting your mindset to align with what is, rather than fighting it.

Western cultures idolize primary control - push harder, go faster, climb higher. And for many of us, especially those who've had to prove themselves in systems not designed for them, this kind of effort became a survival strategy.

But the science is clear: over-reliance on primary control is linked to stress, rigidity, and burnout. It creates a nervous system that's constantly in "do more" mode, making it hard to rest, trust, or feel like enough.

What we often need is a return to psychological flexibility — the ability to stay open, present, and responsive to what’s happening, rather than reacting out of fear or control. This is one of the strongest predictors of well-being and long-term mental health.

In other words:
You don’t need to grip so tightly to get where you’re going. Sometimes softness is the strategy.

When you stop forcing, you make space for things to unfold in ways you couldn’t have scripted. You create space for softness, for surprises, for joy.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. What’s something you’ve been forcing that might be ready to flow?

2. What would trusting life look like this week?

3. Who might you be if you weren’t constantly proving something?

[A DARE]

This week I dare you to:

Try doing one thing with ease, even if your instinct is to push.

Whether it’s your creative work, your relationships, or your schedule… pick one area and experiment with trust.

Ask yourself: What would this look like if I didn’t need to prove anything?

You might be surprised at how much still gets done. And how much better it feels when it does.

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

SELF-DATERS…

SAVE THE DATE!!!!!!

🎉🚨 Sunday, June 22nd, 11-2pm 🚨🎉

More to come soon….

PRIVATE COACHING 

If you’re tired of your pattern of striving and ready to build from a place of enoughness, I have one private coaching spot open for June.

In just 6 weeks, you will feel more grounded in who you are and where you're headed.

We’ll use SELFHOOD Mapping — a structured, supportive, and psychologically sound path to self-transformation. It’s not about fixing or finding yourself. It’s about finally seeing yourself clearly enough to move differently.

If you’re interested > APPLY HERE <

If you’re interested, but have a couple of questions, BOOK A CALL.

I’m offering 3x FREE 30-minute calls the week of 9th June, all you need to do is reply to this email. Spots will be allocated on a first-come, first-served basis.

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<

Well, hello!!

It’s so wonderful seeing you on this fresh Sunday morning.

So, today’s email is inspired by a conversation I was having with some friends earlier this week.

They’re in the US, and I’m… here, there, and everywhere (but Toronto today), so we have a rolling call set up every couple of months where we check in on all the things.

These chats cover personal life, work projects, Buddhism, psychedelics, world conflicts, books we’re reading and, and, and — and this week, the focus was Sinners, of course.

have you seen it?

A lot was said, but there’s one thing I can’t get out of my head: my friend’s observation (I’ll avoid spoilers) that Coogler had brought everything he had to that film and made the movie he wanted to make. And she’s right, you can feel it.

I can only imagine the number of times he heard from people that didn’t “get it,” or the unsolicited executive “advice” on what does and doesn’t sell, or ways to make it more mainstream, timely, or accessible — blah blah blah.

And yet, despite all that, we ended up with the film he wanted to make. And we love it.

My friend went on to say a lot of profound things, but one phrase I cannot shake was when she said -

“He used every ounce of what he had, right now.”

Because, YES.

And

Why does that feel so rare? Why don’t more things feel like that? Am I even doing that?!?

Why have we got so used to holding a little back? Always saving something for another day…

Why does it feel so vulnerable… to fully show up in our lives or to the things we’re doing?

So that’s what we’ll be exploring today. If you haven’t already… grab your journal, pour a drink, get cozy.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you. Let’s do this!

[A LESSON]

There’s this tendency to hold back parts of ourselves, waiting for the “right” moment.

You don’t post the thing because you want more followers first.

You save the outfit for a special occasion.

You put off sending the love note until a birthday.

We keep waiting, holding back, as if we have unlimited time to get it just right.

I get it. We want to maximize the impact, make sure it’s perfect, do it justice. Sometimes, we even convince ourselves that holding back is the “responsible” thing to do. After all, shouldn’t we wait for the perfect moment before putting our most vulnerable, creative, or bold selves out there?

But what if the moment never comes? Or what if, when it does, you’re not the same person who had that thought, that spark, that desire? What if, by the time you feel “ready,” the urgency or excitement that made you want to do it in the first place has faded?

The truth is, holding back is often a form of self-protection.

You’re trying to control how your effort, your creativity, your love will be received.

soz

We want it to be safe, palatable, the right kind of bold. But the thing is, bold doesn’t wait. Authenticity doesn’t hold back. When you start living every day like it’s your last, it’s not about being reckless — it’s about being real.

And being real means letting go of the idea that everything has to be perfectly timed or expertly crafted. It means showing up with all you’ve got, not because it’s guaranteed to succeed but because you deserve to take up space and share your voice. The more you wait, the more you build a habit of playing small, of diluting yourself to fit some imagined version of “enough.”

You don’t owe the world a polished version of yourself. You owe yourself the freedom to show up as you are, without holding back, without waiting for some imagined future where everything aligns. Life isn’t waiting for you to feel ready.

When you start using every ounce of what you have right now, it doesn’t just change your life — it changes you. You become braver, more present, more willing to make mistakes. You realize that it’s not about being perfect; it’s about being you, messy, fully and unapologetically.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. What would it look like if you used every ounce of what you have?

2. What’s one thing you’ve been holding back on because you’re waiting for a “better” time?

3. What’s an outfit, hairstyle or look that you’ve been ‘saving for another day’? Why are you waiting to feel good?

[A DARE]

This week I dare you to:

Use every ounce of what you have, right now.

Whatever it is - could be work, relationships, therapy, what you wear to that next event - GO ALL IN.

Show up fully, without holding back. Don't wait for the 'right' moment. Make this moment the one where you bring everything you’ve got.

Imagine the person you’d become if that’s how you always showed up?

So, Thursday marked my 32nd year around the sun (happy birthday to me 🎂).

I spent it, day drinking, in an arcade, with my love

I know you’re not meant to share birthday wishes, but I’m not sure what the policy is on emailing them… a big wish of mine for this next year is growing this newsletter community. It’s truly one of my favourite parts of my work.

Soooooo, if you’re feeling generous and want to get me a lil birthday gift - my only ask would be sharing this with a friend or two who you think might appreciate it too.

They can »> Sign up here «<

I really do give all the ounces of me to these emails, so the more people I can share it with, the better! Every extra “subscribe” really does help.

See you on a Sunday!

L

Hiiii friend 👋🏾

You know the drill: get cozy, pour a drink, grab your journal. This is your time.

Let’s get honest today — like really honest.
Not in the “tell your boss you’re overwhelmed” kind of way. Although if that’s how you’ve been feeling, you should definitely do that. 

I mean honest with yourself.

The kind of honesty that stings a little… but also unlocks something big.

I can go first...

My big “life goal” has changed…

Since I was 18, I’ve been chasing the ‘powerhouse CEO’ dream.

And I was getting close — Director title, condo in the sky, fast-moving career with all the signs of the “corner office” path. I pictured myself running a 50-person team, flying business class, and using the word “scaling” waaay too much 🙃

I’ve always been the ambitious friend — the one who’d “make a mill.” And don’t get me wrong, I still plan to. But the vision? It’s changed.

These days, the luxury I’m chasing looks more like slow mornings, a local coffee shop, and a simple, unsexy routine.

For past-me, this probably looks like giving up. It’s boringggg.

But when I finally stopped resisting and admitted to myself that this is what I want, I wasn’t met with disappointment. I was met with relief. A full-body exhale.

There’s something quietly radical about letting go of a dream you’ve outgrown. About no longer pretending. That kind of honesty brings a peace I didn’t know I was missing.

You stop wasting energy trying to be someone you’re not.
And start using that energy to become someone who actually feels like you.

It’s a game changer.

So, let’s explore that a little more today.

As always, I have a lesson, three questions, and a dare for you. Let’s do this!

[A LESSON]

We talk so much about becoming, reaching higher, striving further, and constantly evolving. But there’s another kind of self-work that doesn’t get nearly enough credit: the moment you admit something isn’t for you anymore.

Even if you once wanted it. Even if you were good at it. Even if it’s what others expect from you.

Psychologists call this “adaptive self-knowledge”— the ability to revise your identity based on new, honest information about yourself. And while it’s linked to better well-being, less anxiety, and stronger decision-making, it’s not always comfortable.

We tend to hold on tight to identities we’ve spent years building:

“I’m the overachiever.”
“I’m the fixer.”
“I’m the one who makes it big.”

But what if it’s not?

Letting go of these identities can feel like a personal death. But more often than not, it’s the moment you begin living on your own terms.

Self-honesty doesn’t always lead to growth in the traditional sense. Sometimes, it’s the end of striving that frees you. Sometimes, it’s saying, “I don’t want that anymore.” Sometimes, it’s giving up the version of adulthood you thought you should want and making room for the one that actually fits your nervous system, your joy, and your present-day values.

This kind of honesty might not look glamorous on paper, but it’s powerful as hell. It’s where peace lives. And paradoxically, it often clears the path for more aligned success anyway.

The realest self-knowledge doesn’t always feel empowering at first. Sometimes it humbles you. Sometimes it breaks your heart a little. And still, it sets you free.

This freedom has a name in psychology: self-concept clarity. It’s not about having a perfect self-image but about having a stable one. When you stop trying to be someone you’re not, or grasping for an identity that doesn’t fit, you get your energy back. And that’s when you begin to feel truly yourself — not constantly chasing some ideal version of what you’re “supposed” to be.

The reason we avoid this kind of honesty is partly cultural and partly primal. We live in a world that celebrates reinvention: “You can be anything!” “You’re just one breakthrough away!” And while I deeply believe in transformation, there can also be a quiet cost to all that self-optimization: we become afraid to admit the things that don’t change — or the things we wish were true about us, but just… aren’t.

Like the dream that doesn’t feel dreamy anymore.
Or the truth that we’re not the best at something we wanted to master.
Or the realization that we crave simplicity over success, freedom over family, or rest over ambition.

This is where ego and identity get tangled. The stories we tell ourselves about who we are — or need to be — are often coping strategies. They’re shaped by childhood, culture, and comparison. We cling to them because they give us certainty, direction, and belonging. But sometimes, those stories become prisons. And the bravest thing we can do is say, “That story’s not mine anymore.”

Even when this honesty doesn’t lead to some massive life overhaul, it’s still healing.

It grounds you. It releases the pressure to prove, perform, or push. It opens up space in your life for something truer.

This isn’t about settling. It’s about settling into yourself.

The you who’s not constantly trying to be more, better, or different.

The you who knows what’s real, and can breathe because of it.

[3 QUESTIONS ]

1. What belief about yourself or your life have you outgrown but still act like it’s true?

2. What are you scared will happen if you admit you've changed your mind?

3. If you were to start over from scratch today, what would you keep, and what would you leave behind?
   

[A DARE]

This week I dare you to:

Tell someone you trust about something you’ve changed your mind about.

It could be a small dream or a big life shift. The goal isn’t to justify or impress — just to share honestly. If your people are far away (or you’re more of a written-word kind of person), this is a perfect excuse to send a letter, an email, or a voice note.

To make it easier, you can forward this email to them, with your own version of this included in the body:

Hey [Name]

This email got me thinking. It’s been a while since we checked in on our dreams, and I’ve realized mine have shifted a lot lately.

Curious if you’ve changed your mind about anything big or small recently?

For me… I used to want [insert old dream, identity, or goal].
And now, the version of life I’m craving looks more like [insert your new story].

It’s weird how disorienting — and also freeing — it can be to admit that out loud.
Just wanted to share in case it sparks something for you, too.

Would love to hear where you’re at these days, if you’re up for it.

Big love,
[Your Name]

[COMMUNITY BOARD]

SELF-DATING

I’m still riding the high from last weekend’s Self-Dating event!

Not to be a dick, but it really was one of those you-just-had-to-be-there moments. The energy was magic, the reflections were deep, and the connections were next level. The croissants were great too. If you’re new here from the event, welcome 👋🏾. It’s so good to have you! And for those already asking about the next one - good news: we’re planning something beautiful for June.

PRIVATE COACHING 

As we enter this new month, I have 2 private coaching spots open for those ready to turn introspection into action. During the foundational 6 weeks, we strip it down to your identity basics — the beliefs, values, and internal script behind your choices — making the shifts required to become the version of you who naturally builds that life you want.

If you’re ready, you can > APPLY HERE <

See you on a Sunday!

L

P.S. If you found today’s newsletter helpful, forward it to a friend who might need a little self-exploration in their life. Sharing is caring! They can »> Sign up here «<