Everything literally always has its way of working itself out.
It’s up to us to wade through the uncomfortable and let it happen.
And if I’m being honest? That’s the part I’ve fought the hardest.
Because sitting still in the mess requires something most of us don’t want to admit we struggle with—trust.
Not in the outcome…in ourselves.
Some days, I sit in the disappointment of a situation I curated myself. Again.
Same patterns. Different face. Same ending.
It’s almost impressive how creative we can get while still choosing the same damn lesson.
Dipping my toe into an all too familiar pond, knowing exactly how it ends…
and still whispering to myself, maybe this time will be different.
Why do we do that?
Why do we romanticize potential over reality?
Why do we cling to almosts and maybes like they’re promises?
Why do we knowingly choose the path that already broke us…
and call it hope?
Insanity isn’t loud.
It’s quiet.
It’s subtle.
It’s the stories we tell ourselves to justify staying the same.
And if I’m really calling myself out here—
it’s not that I didn’t know better.
It’s that I didn’t believe I deserved better.
That part hits a little different.
Recently I read:
“There was no present moment for the younger me – just a constant anticipation of the future.
I used to lay in bed at night and wonder why. Why…everything.” – Abby Rosmarin
And that landed deep.
Because I don’t think I was ever taught how to be in my life…
only how to survive it, fix it, or get to the next version of it.
Always chasing.
Always building.
Always thinking once I get there, I’ll finally feel okay.
Spoiler alert: you don’t. The journey is LITERALLY the destination.
It’s been nearly four months since I’ve written something that actually felt like me.
Not content. Not strategy. Not “what will perform well.”
Just…truth.
And if I’m being real?
I’ve missed her.
But instead of sitting with that, I did what I’ve always done—
I stayed busy.
Building. Planning. Creating. Producing.
Not because I’m avoiding, but because I’m trying to get somewhere.
It used to be:
“I’m busy.”
“I don’t have time.”
“I’ll get to it.”
Translation?
I’m avoiding myself.
And the wild part is…
we praise that behavior.
We call it ambition.
We call it discipline.
We call it success.
But sometimes?
It’s just beautifully disguised disconnection.
I wasn’t drowning.
I was functioning.
And somehow that’s even more dangerous.
Because there’s no alarm bell when you slowly drift away from yourself.
There’s no rock bottom moment.
Just a quiet realization one day that you don’t feel like you anymore.
And then—BAM.
It hits you.
You look around at everything you’ve built…
and realize you haven’t been present for any of it.
You’ve been there.
But not there.
It’s easy to get lost in the busyness.
It’s easy to get lost in everyone around you.
It’s easy to get lost in the mundane.
It’s easy to abandon yourself…
because no one is watching you do it.
In the words of Ferris Bueller –
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
And I think I did.
Miss parts of it, I mean.
Not because I didn’t care—
but because I didn’t slow down enough to feel it, which is totally different now.
My life has made so many twists and turns—as it does.
And right now, I’m standing in one of those moments where I can either keep repeating…
or choose differently.
So here it is.
The uncomfortable truth I’ve been avoiding.
I’m going to get vulnerable in a way that honestly scares the shit out of me.
Because I would much rather talk about sex, orgasms, relationships, or literally anything else…
than this.
But this is the work.
About three years ago, I found myself standing at a crossroads—
the heaviest I had ever been in my entire life…
Not just physically.
Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.
Carrying years of avoidance.
Of numbing.
Of choosing everything and everyone…over myself.
Trying to build something beautiful…
from the rubble of a life I barely recognized.
And if I’m being brutally honest?
I didn’t hate myself.
I just didn’t take care of myself.
There’s a difference.
I kept showing up for everyone else.
Kept performing.
Kept holding it all together.
But behind the scenes?
I was exhausted.
Disconnected.
And so far removed from who I actually was…
I wouldn’t have recognized her if she stood in front of me.
And maybe that’s the real wake-up call.
Not when everything falls apart…
but when everything looks “fine”…
and you still feel lost inside it.
And here’s where it shifts.
Because after all of that—
after the awareness, the reflection, the “how the hell did I get here again” moment…
I sat.
For a while.
Not rushing to fix it.
Not jumping into another plan.
Not downloading another app or ordering another “this will finally be it” solution (that’s never been me btw).
Just…sitting in it.
Feeling it.
Letting it be uncomfortable without immediately trying to escape it.
And honestly?
That might be the biggest growth I’ve had yet.
Because the old me?
She would’ve turned this into a project.
A timeline.
A pressure cooker.
A “start Monday and don’t mess it up this time” situation.
But this time feels different.
This time…
I’m not trying to punish myself into change.
I’m choosing myself into it – I have a long road ahead.
There. I said it.
Not because I hate my body.
Not because I need to be smaller to be worthy.
Not because someone else told me I should.
But because I can feel it.
I can feel where I’ve been out of alignment.
I can feel what my body has been carrying—physically and emotionally.
I can feel that I’m ready to come back home to myself.
And here’s where it gets tricky…
Because the second you decide that?
Everyone has something to say.
Eat this.
Don’t eat that.
Lift heavy.
No, just walk.
Track everything.
Don’t track anything.
High protein.
Low carb.
No carbs.
Only carbs if the moon is in retrograde and you drank lemon water first.
It’s loud.
And if I’m being honest—
that noise has kept me stuck more than anything else.
Because I’ve spent years trying to follow everyone else’s rules…
instead of learning my own.
So this time?
I’m doing it differently.
Not perfectly.
Not aggressively.
Not all-or-nothing.
Intentionally.
I’m not diving into another extreme.
I’m not disappearing into another version of “I’ll be back when I’ve lost the weight.”
No.
You’re going to watch me do this in real time.
Messy.
Real.
Honest.
Because this isn’t a before-and-after story.
This is a during.
This is me choosing to show up for myself—
in the middle of it.
Not just when it’s done.
And maybe that’s the part I’ve been missing all along…
I don’t need another plan. I don’t need the people around me, trying to “fix” me. I’m not broken. I’m growing.
I need consistency.
I need awareness.
I need to stop abandoning myself the second it gets hard.
So here we go.
Not starting over.
Not fixing myself.
Just…returning.
XO,
Laura
