I talked about it in my book, and a million times before – I wish I could go away somewhere and come back different.
Thing is, I think I’ve been manifesting that for years. Decades perhaps.
It happens, every single time – I go away, and come back different.
But here’s the part I didn’t always understand:
you don’t have to board a plane or cross a border to go on an adventure.
Sometimes the real adventure is walking through the storm, sitting with the discomfort, choosing to rebuild again and again until you meet the version of yourself who’s been waiting on the other side.
2025 has been a year of adventure (to say the least). I actually didn’t walk into it thinking that’s how it would go.
In the past few years — from walking away from a job that I loved but that was quietly draining the life out of me, to hitting financial lows, to working my ass off to recover from that (again) — I had walked into 2024 saying it was going to be the year of abundance. I declared it going in – I mean, how could it not?
But what I didn’t realize then was that abundance doesn’t always show up in your bank account or your inbox. Sometimes abundance looks like finally sleeping through the night. Or forgiving yourself. Or trusting that things will work out even when you can’t see how.
It wasn’t about just “having things” or “money” when you typically think of abundance.
I cruised through 2024 holding myself together with duct tape and glue. If it wasn’t for hope and determination, I wouldn’t still be standing here now.
But even then — even in the messy middle — I was still growing.
Every time I tripped, I learned how to get up faster.
Every time I took a wrong turn, I discovered another path I hadn’t considered before.
Every time I made a decision that didn’t pan out, I got clearer on what actually matters to me.
I tripped a lot in 2024, took some unexpected turns, learned some hard lessons in the business world — but every one of those decisions made me who I am. I began 2025 not knowing what was to come.
And now, as I stand on the edge of what’s next, I can feel it — I am fit for adventure.
Because adventure isn’t about leaving. It’s about coming home to yourself again and again, stronger, wiser, and more rooted every time.
Throughout my journey, during the times it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my body, I often wondered, “Why do I have to go through this?”
Why did I have to be the one that was beaten down through childhood?
Why did I have to be the one who found hard lessons in love, drawn toward men who couldn’t hold space for themselves, let alone me?
Why did I have to be the one to navigate these last few years alone?
There were nights I’d sit in silence asking those questions over and over — until the tears stopped and the stillness came. And in that stillness, every single time, I heard the same quiet answer.
So I could help someone else get through it too.
So that when another person feels their world cracking open, I can say, “You’re not crazy, and you’re not broken — this is just your becoming.”
So I can stand beside someone so they don’t have to feel the loneliness I once felt when my world was falling apart.
That’s why I share my story. That’s why I speak, write, coach, and show up — not because my life is perfect, but because I know what it feels like when it isn’t.
I could be that person there for you. I am that person here for you.
In all of the messiness, I truly believe I am doing the work I was put on this earth to do.
I feel it in my soul, and in every ounce of my being — the ache, the healing, the resilience, the calling.
Every heartbreak, every ending, every lonely night — it wasn’t punishment. It was preparation.
Preparation for the woman I was always meant to become, and for the purpose I was always meant to serve.
I’ll be 44 next month. My birthday has always symbolized the traditional “new year” for me.
It’s when I set my goals — not the kind you scribble down on a list and forget about, but the kind that come from deep within. The ones rooted in who I’m becoming, not just what I’m achieving.
Abundance isn’t obtained. I think it’s a mindset. It’s a way of seeing and receiving — of opening your hands and your heart to welcome in more.
And if I’m being honest, I didn’t know what 2025 was going to bring me.
It’s been the year of faith — quite honestly.
Because more things have happened than I ever anticipated.
I knew where I wanted to go, but I had no idea how to get there.
Yet somehow, piece by piece, it’s all unfolded.
From driving across the country and feeling the freedom of open roads, to being recognized not once but twice in the county for the work I’ve been doing (and letting that sink in), to building my consulting practice from the ground up, to helping more people than I ever could have imagined — it’s been a journey of becoming.
And somewhere in the midst of all that doing, I’ve also learned how to just be.
To take a breath with the amazing people I’ve come to know.
To feel supported.
To receive love and connection in endless amounts of small, sacred moments — hugs, laughter, quiet mornings, and deep conversations that remind me I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Here’s to the journeys we take inward — and the beauty that unfolds when we finally come home to ourselves.
XO,
Laura
