Conflicting Messages…

Conflicting Messages. Confident Me.

““Do what you love.”

“Love what you do.”

“Get a job. Keep your head down. Pay your bills. Be grateful.”

Cool. Super clear. Thanks, world.

Welcome to adulthood. Where the Pinterest quote meets your dad’s practical advice and they politely fight in your head for fifteen years.

Like most people, I played it safe after college. Because honestly? I did not have some blazing passion. I had rent. So I worked. Six years of head down hustle. Responsible. Reliable. Mildly uninspired.

Then came sales. I liked it. I was good at it. I made money. Which is fun. But that quiet little voice? Still tapping me on the shoulder.

“This isn’t it.”

Then real estate. Mostly because I wanted to work alongside my dad. And yes, that sentence stays. It was good. It was stretching. It was character building. It was not soul lighting.

The Thing That Would Not Leave Me Alone

Helping people.

Moving with people.
Pushing people.
High fiving people.
Watching someone realize they are stronger than they thought.

That “side job” at what is now MOTIV, formerly Define? That was never just a side job. The music loud. The sweat flying. The collective suffering that somehow feels joyful. That is my version of therapy.

I still teach because nothing makes me feel more alive than watching someone hit a wall and then push through it.

For a long time, I thought I had to choose.

Security or calling.
Practical or passionate.
Responsible adult or slightly delusional dreamer.

But who wants to just hold the cake and never eat it? That sounds miserable.

The Shift

Then the world flipped upside down. The pandemic. The wellness reckoning. The moment where everyone collectively went, “Wait… what are we doing to ourselves?”

And something in me got louder.

I started praying. The messy kind. The “God I do not want to waste my life” kind.

Clarity. Courage. Alignment.

And doors started cracking open.

Through my wise, grounded, occasionally annoyingly correct husband.
Through random conversations.
Through opportunities I did not even know I was allowed to want.

Then I was invited to teach fitness for a large oil and gas company. Bigger room. Bigger impact. Bigger responsibility. And I felt it again. The fire.

That was it.

I stopped circling the thing and stepped into it.

I went back to school. Became a certified Health and Wellness Coach. Not because it was trendy. Not because it was safe. Because it was mine.

This. Coaching. Cheering. Helping people feel better, sleep deeper, move stronger, live fuller. That is the work.

And stepping into it feels less like a risky leap and more like obedience.

My Rally Cry

I am fast. I am loud. I will yell “YES YOU CAN” when you are shaking in a plank. And I will lovingly call you out when you are sabotaging yourself.

You deserve to feel good in your body.

Not exhausted.
Not inflamed.
Not running on caffeine and cortisol.

And no, this is not political. Do not spiral. There is nothing controversial about sunlight, strength, vegetables, protein, sleep, laughter, and a nervous system that is not fried.

This is about getting back to basics.

Move your body.
Eat real food.
Go outside.
Sleep deeply.
Build muscle.
Laugh with people you love.

Repeat.

This is me re entering.

Not as someone who “figured it all out.”
But as a woman who finally stopped ignoring the nudge.

Living aligned.
Out loud.
On purpose.

And if you are feeling that nudge too?

Come sit on the porch.

Cake fork optional. Grit required. Cheerleader voice absolutely guaranteed.