The Chameleon Kids: Reclaiming Our Story

The more that I talk about Love lately,
the more Trauma and pain
seem to be part of the conversation, too.
Something inside of me wants to hold space for both.

What I actually want is to hold the versions of us that we cleverly tuck away,
lovingly reclaiming them, giving them voice and helping them be seen,
reorienting them to who we are and who we are becoming
instead of stuffing them down out of sight.

Most days it feels like I have evolved so far past those versions of me.
And for some reason, right now I am realizing that in order to feel truly whole, and to expand into my fullest expression, I know I need to invite them back in. Gently. Intentionally. With so much gratitude and grace.
And maybe you’ve been feeling this way too…?

Maybe you feel like you are trying to lean into or listen deeply for your purpose or calling.
And it feels BIG and audacious, and scary but amazing. Or maybe you are just trying to figure out what that even is.
Either way, when I think about it, it’s like something keeps me looking in the rearview mirror.
And, at least for me, I think it’s time I turn around and face it head on, instead of just seeing the diluted reflections.

It’s on my heart, so we’re just gonna go there today.
And maybe just talking about it will give you permission to go there, too.
Knowing that someone over here sees you. All of you.

Let’s start by saying that it’s not that you can’t have love without pain.
But it occurred to me that experiencing one definitely increases our capacity to hold the other.

This is the duality of our human existence.

Sometimes I think that “opposing forces” offer an incredible mirror, or a way to recognize what we truly want when it sits side-by-side with something we don’t. It helps shift the pendulum back into harmony from the extremes.
It also triggers things like calling and purpose to rise within us.

As I think about my own calling, I’ve been wondering where it stemmed from.
Like, when did I actually realize I even had a calling on my heart…?
For me, it’s kindof always just been in there. 

It’s a deep knowing that I am created for something really big and impactful in the world.
And, if I’m being honest with myself, that feels like a big responsibility.
And that feeling of responsibility doesn’t feel good in my body.
It’s something I have to work at regulating almost daily.

These thoughts always bring me back to my own childhood, when responsibility wasn’t something I chose; it was something imposed. I don’t want to be in THAT energy anymore, where I don’t have a choice.

If you also experienced early childhood trauma (capital or lower case t), you might understand this feeling —this weird relationship with responsibility.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t spend a whole lot of time honoring the journey that created THIS version of me.
I am quite happy to stuff it down and focus on “look at me and who I am today, in spite of that’” not because of it.
And I am realizing that maybe avoiding it or labeling it healed and shoving it back in the basement again
is exactly the energy that keeps me small and at arm's reach from the big purpose work that I know I’m here for in this lifetime.

I think we all find it’s pretty easy sharing the shiny parts of ourselves (or at least the palatable ones). But letting our whole SELF in, requires allowing ALL of the versions of us to the table. In IFS we might call it “parts work” or integration work. And when we can invite in, get curious about, and honor those raw, hurt, tender parts of us, we actually shine brighter. We attract others who may have had a similar experience, and we give them a permission slip to honor and love themselves more wholly.
(or is it holy? Maybe it’s both.)

Truth is, we’re all grown up. We do have a choice now.
And that means we get to reclaim our stories.

The phrase “Chameleon Kid” dropped in for me last week.
It made me laugh because it was actually so perfect —the way they move delicately, deliberately. The way their eyes dart in a million different directions all at once, the way they change colors.
I know I was one of them. And because you are here reading this, maybe you are too…?

Chameleon Kids are the ones who had to grow up too fast.
The ones who learned to read the room before they learned to read a storybook.
They instinctively knew exactly where all of the exits were, and they could feel the emotional temperature shift in the room.
They moved like ninjas across eggshells. Learned intuitively to react quickly to extinguish chaos, even before it happened.
They are incredibly smart, intuitive, and able to adapt to any situation.

Ooof. Yeah. That.

We weren’t just code-switching. We literally felt and shifted the energy in the room.

That’s a really big responsibility for such a small person.
Yet, we were the ones who stepped up.
Partly because we had to. And partly because we knew we could.

Something in us was born strong.

And, with each experience, we built more and more capacity.

The capacity to feel intensity without immediately collapsing.
The capacity to sit in big emotions — ours and other people’s — and stay present. 
The capacity to stabilize a room long before we could understand our power.

And that also cost us.

It cost us play, ease, peace, and the unselfconscious joy of a child who doesn’t have to monitor the room or sit as sentinel guarding, watching, waiting. It cost us our childhood.

Many of us became adults in small bodies.
We carried responsibility that wasn’t ours.
We learned to regulate other people before we learned to love ourselves.
We became the strong ones, the overachievers, the “good girls.” We often amassed knowledge because we thought if just knew enough we’d be able to figure it all out. And we did. We learned to do everything ourselves because everyone assumed we could handle it. And today, we still do. And they continue to assume we are fine.

But here is the duality that I keep coming back to: What cost us something also built something in us.

And, maybe, that thing that’s been building is the way we uncover our magic and start living into that calling on our hearts. Our experiences were never anything anyone should have to carry, especially as a small child. 

And yet, here we are. 

Stronger. Wiser. More intuitive than we sometimes give ourselves credit for.

The Chameleon Kids didn’t just survive. We adapted. We learned how to move. We learned how to hold. We learned how to feel the undercurrent of a room and decide, often without thinking, how to shift it. Or how to leave it.

That ability doesn’t disappear just because we grow up.

It matures.

So…
  What if the early shapeshifting that once kept us safe has actually been refining our intuition this entire time?
  What if the constant scanning that once felt like hypervigilance became discernment in a regulated body?
  What if the emotional depth we developed in chaos became compassion that can sit with others without flinching?
What if our wiring was never random?

Afterall, navigating unpredictability, over and over again, taught our systems how to expand instead of shatter.

I keep coming back to the idea that so many of us have always felt called. Even when life didn’t make sense. Even when we were just trying to get through the day. There was a thread — subtle but steady — that whispered that we were here to create something meaningful in the world.

Sometimes that calling feels heavy. I know it does for me. It can feel like responsibility layered on top of responsibility, and that old pattern of bracing tries to come back online.

But what if the calling isn’t asking us to carry more?
What if it’s asking us to reclaim more of who we already are and rewrite our stories so we don’t have to carry the heaviness of them anymore?

  The capacity.
The intuition.
The emotional range.
The steadiness under pressure.

This is exactly what the world needs more of right now.
I know there is an imprint of chaos in the world right now. I very literally feel the anger, the sadness, the fear.
It feels familiar in my body. And my nervous system recognizes it.

But this time, we are grown-ass adults.
And maybe the very sensitivity that once required us to adapt may be the thing that allows us to lead differently. 

What if our superpower all along was about disrupting the pattern?

What if the reason this moment in history feels activating is because we recognize the terrain — and this time, you are equipped to walk it consciously?

What if THIS is what we’ve been training for all along?

What if this familiar feeling in our bodies is calling us forward as an invitation to step into our wisdom and earned authority?

What if we did step forward, and by doing so, we give others permission to do the same?

Finding Where Love Lives

Last week, I was hosting an event
and someone asked me if I could describe my Self in one word.
Without thought, I heard myself say,
“I am love.”

The words slipped out before my mouth had time to catch it,
or my ego could judge it, or my mind could edit it.

We both kindof stood there in stunned silence, until I smiled and shrugged.
And he just nodded and said, “Wow. Yeah. We need more of that.”
I was surprised by my response in the moment.
But what surprised me more was how it landed.

Love.

It has the power to silence a room.
To still an anxious heart.
To soften shoulders that have carried way too much for way too long.
It has a way of inviting people in.

It reminds me of that Mr. Rogers quote that we heard so often after 911 and during the early days of COVID, “Look for the helpers.” These days, I am chronically reminding myself to look for the love.

I have really been thinking about love lately and what it means to live from a place of love in a world that feels so unsteady. Where does love even live these days? 

I know where it doesn’t live.

Right now the world is loud.

There’s a kind of exhaustion settling in that isn’t just physical.
It’s the exhaustion of holding too much information. Too much outrage. Too much grief that doesn’t even belong solely to us. It’s the heartbreak of watching what’s unfolding in the world and not quite knowing where to put the anger, or the fear, or the sadness.
There are people in places who are positioned to fight certain battles.
And then there are the rest of us, sitting at kitchen tables and in carpools and at desks, feeling all of it move through our bodies with no clear outlet.

It all feels so heavy.
Many are collapsing under the weight of it all.

And, at the same time, something else is happening.
It’s like pockets of light are forming.
People are gathering in spaces and having conversations that are healing and freeing.
And they feel like love.

They’re saying, No more.

They’ve decided they are simply not going to live inside the fear narrative anymore.
They know that there has to be another way.

What if that way is love?

I know that sounds too simple.
Love is such a small word for such a big moment.
But the more I sit with it, the more I realize how much we’ve overcomplicated nearly everything. I see it in my own life. Maybe we have overcomplicated things so much that we have lost the point of the life we’re living.

And maybe it’s calling us to get back to basics, to get back to the single most simple thing: LOVE.
Getting back to loving ourselves, loving each other, loving the planet…Right?

I know it’s not that simple. Or is it?
When we think about love, we tend to focus on the highest expressions of it: joy, connection, happiness… Those kinds of loving feelings.
But there is a shadow side to everything.
If you trace almost any heavy emotion back far enough, you find love underneath it:

Grief is love that no longer has a physical place to land.
Anger is love that has been hurt.
Betrayal is love that was dishonored, mishandled, or maipulated.
The deep ache of not belonging is love that was never acknowledged.
And fear… that is love that was afraid to be fully seen.

There is a higher expression and a lower expression to every emotion, but they all circle back to the same origin point: Love.

So, what if… love is the undercurrent that flows underneath of everything in our lives?

If that’s true, then that means we also have access to love.
If we are willing to choose it.  

Now, before I go any further, I want to acknowledge that there are some who are so deeply impacted in their daily lives by what is happening in our world that they do not have the privilege of choice right now.

For those of us who do have the option to choose, I keep noticing something.
Every time I feed the anger, the world feels heavier.
Every time I let that deeper layer of love underneath the anger guide me, something shifts.
And when I consciously add love — in small, ordinary ways — the whole texture of my day changes.

If you have the option to choose, why not choose love?

So where do we find it? How do we access it? Where DOES love live?

Those of you who know me know that I research everything.
I fall down rabbit holes for fun. I have to experience everything firsthand.
Most days, my brain is a very happy playground.

And this week, I have been “playing” with Love. Capital L Love.
(AKA: Universal Love, God, Source, All that is. Yeah, the big guy.)

I wanted to see if I could channel messages directly from Source. (Um…Yeah. Turns out I can.)
I started with my higher self, and I wanted to see how high I could go. I have connected with source energy before and received messages, but I have never verbally channeled them.
It is totally different. I nearly blew out my circuitry accessing that high a frequency, but I asked the question, “Where does love live and how do we access it?”

What came through was almost laughably simple: Love is alive in you. (Like, actually.)

Seriously…It can be difficult to find unless you are looking for it, and I know our human bodies did not come with a manual, but the connection point is in you.
We just have to remember how to access it.
It literally lives at the base of your physical heart, tucked in at the back.
(Take a moment to take that deep breath into your chest. That place where you feel that little tug… right there. That is the place where love lives.)

And we get to fill it with feelings of joy and gratitude and excitement and the love that we feel for our kids, for our pets, for nature… with whatever brings effervescence and lightness bubbling up in your heart, and a genuine smile to your face.

The connection point has always been there. We just have to activate it.

Hang on…

Total geek out moment incoming:
That little place at the top of the heart I was talking about… that’s the place that stores memories as impressions of feelings!

So that means it’s not just an on/off switch.
It’s a dimmer, and you get to control the darkness and the light.

Whaaat…? I know this sounds like some deep woo-woo stuff.
This is a very spiritual connection, and it is also a physiological one. 

Our brains are wired to look for what we tell them is important.
And we tell our brain what matters with our feelings.
(Oh, and by the way, it doesn’t know the difference between what we consider positive and negative feelings, and it doesn’t care.) There is this little filter in your brain, called the reticular activating system, that decides what rises to your awareness and what fades into the background. If you put your focus or energy into something –positive or negative– your brain will start seeking it out everywhere. 

So if we’re saturating it with outrage, it will hand us more outrage.
If we start feeding it more love… what might it hand us then?

And that part doesn’t have to be complicated. Maybe it looks like stepping outside and actually touching trees and hearing the wind, or choosing music that moves you and singing out loud, or letting yourself laugh until you pee.

And maybe it looks like remembering that you are allowed to feel joy even when the world is complicated. And maybe that’s exactly what we all need more of right now.

I don’t know about you, but I would rather be intentional about what I feed my brain, because I don’t want it deciding for me. 

I get to choose.

Wait… So, what if we actually do have a choice about how our brain sees our life?
What if when the collective feels saturated with fear and anger, the most radical thing we could do is focus inward and choose love instead of amplifying the noise?
What if we mattered so much that each personal experience could add to love’s positive expression in the world?

It is a one-energy year afterall, and the Fire Horse is nearly here.
And maybe this is what self-leadership and freedom actually looks like.
We can’t control the world. But we get to choose the frequency we live from inside it.

That’s where love lives.

When the Soul Wants to Come All the Way In

Lately, I’ve been noticing something in myself.
I’ve become a little more still. A little more protective of my energy.
I’ve been a lot more intentional, but not over-thinking… It’s more like I am creating space around ideas, letting them come in, orient, and really connect before moving.

This new year just feels different so far. It’s not exactly a new beginning. It feels more like all of the seeds I’ve been planting are slowly coming to life under the earth. They’re not sprouting yet. They’re just awakening. Slowly, sleepily stirring under the surface. It’s quiet, but I definitely feel them shifting the earth underneath me.

January has always felt like a threshold month. A liminal space. Even though the calendar says “new year,” so many ancient systems—astrological, energetic, seasonal—haven’t actually crossed that line yet. The new year doesn’t truly lock in until February. So it makes more sense not to charge forward with personal goals or business plans, yet.

So what if we just played with this idea for now…?
Honoring a rhythm instead of a schedule.
Listening to our bodies, our inspiration, our intuition.
Recalibrating and feeling into what’s rising beneath the surface before we decide where we’re going next.

It feels like a spiritual practice, right? But is it, really?
What if it’s just naturally, authentically who we are and how we are actually meant to operate?

What I keep noticing, both in myself and in the conversations I’m having, is how many of us can relate to feeling like we have been standing in a threshold, with one foot planted firmly in “real life” —relationships, responsibilities, jobs, bills, and all of the emotions that come with it. And one foot deeply curious and invested in exploring our spirituality—the connection to something beyond our physical reality.

And lately I’ve been wondering, why is that? Why couldn’t we integrate these worlds?
What would change if we did actually live our spirituality in real life? What would be possible then?

And maybe this is where this year comes in for me.
2026 is a one-energy year. A frequency of self-leadership. Self-mastery. Self-responsibility. But I want to be absolutely clear about this, because I am someone who spent years carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, feeling like I had to do everything myself. And I know many of you might feel that way right now too.

So hear me: It is definitely not a year to do more, or try harder, or finally get it right.
It’s not about holding it all together better.
It’s not about becoming even more self-reliant or self-contained.

This is about honoring you as a return to Self.

What I’ve been calling a collapse into self doesn’t feel like added responsibility — it feels like coming home. Like gathering your energy back from all the places it’s been stretched, pulled, or projected outward. And this doesn’t mean carrying more. It means carrying less of what was never yours in the first place.

What if this year is actually inviting us to make room to explore, from the inside of our bodies, what it would feel like to let the soul come all the way in?

What would that look like to let my soul come all the way in and fill my body from the inside out?
And to let my soul experience the fullness of ME —as I am. Fully human. Filled with the divine.

I keep coming back to this quiet knowing: our souls chose to come here. Into bodies. Into time. Into this particular moment in human history.

And maybe part of why is simple — the soul can’t experience this anywhere else.

It can’t feel joy, grief, wonder, pleasure, longing, love, disappointment, curiosity — not like this. Not without a body.

So what if embodiment isn’t something we achieve…but something we allow?
What if it’s less about learning more, seeking more, reaching outside ourselves — and more about turning inward and letting what’s already here expand?

I’ve been wondering what that actually looks like in real life. Not the weirdly serious social-media “embodiment” that is probably flooding your feed right now. But embodiment as the actual lived relationship with our soul and self.

Slowing down enough to notice what’s already present.
Letting the body speak in its own language — sensation, tension, softening, contraction, release.
Listening not just to the mind, but to the gut, the heart, the places that tighten or brace before we even have words.

I notice how often my body tells me something before my thoughts catch up.
A clenched jaw… A tight stomach… A shallow breath. A wave of…is it anxiety or could it be excitement…? I’ve started getting curious and asking questions instead of ignoring my body’s signals or overriding them. I feel things deeply, and I know many of you do too. So I’ve started asking those feelings directly (like, actually asking them):
• What are you trying to tell me?
• What are you protecting me from?
• What do you need right now?

And I start listening. And when I am present with my feelings, this incredible thing happens: the world inside me steps forward and starts speaking.

When I approach it this way, embodiment stops feeling abstract. It becomes intimate. Practical. Honest.
And something else happens too. The more I listen inward, the clearer my sense of authority becomes.

I start to recognize:
What’s mine to carry — and what isn’t.
What actually feels aligned for me — and what I’ve been tolerating out of habit, obligation, or conditioning.
What I need — and what I’ve been outsourcing to others to tell me.

This doesn’t mean we don’t need support or connection. It means we start aligning to healthier relationships with others and ourselves. It means we stop giving away our inner knowing to people who don’t live inside our bodies.

We’ve been taught that spirituality is up there, out there, or somewhere beyond us. But this…? It feels like resourcing the soul, nourishing it, instead of bypassing it, or treating it as an outsider to real life. And it’s led to a much stronger connection to EVERYTHING — my self, my soul, my body, my mind, my home & environment, my people, and to God, source, and all that is “out there.”

I keep wondering what happens when we stop clenching against life and start allowing our innate wisdom to speak.
When we stop managing ourselves so tightly based on society’s “rules” or what others need or expect from us.
When we let our authenticity — not effort — lead.

Who do we become?
What do we begin to radiate then?
And what naturally finds its way toward us when we’re living from that place — not because we’re trying to attract or manifest anything, but because frequency does what frequency does?

And maybe that’s part of the invitation here… This is integration. This is real embodiment.
Not “tapping in” from our meditation cushions and letting our soul just guide us from afar, but actually inviting it all the way in, in all parts of “real life” so that we can finally radiate our truest, most authentic light out into the world, unfiltered, unapologetic, and fearless.

I don’t have a conclusion here.
Just a lot of curiosity.

So I’ll leave you with the question I’m sitting with myself:
What might change if you let your soul come all the way in — and let your life be lived from the inside out?

Maybe it’s just an invitation to stop bracing…
and start letting yourself be lived—
from the inside out.

A New Year & A New Rhythm: Rooted Riffs Begins

Welcome.
I’m really glad you’re here.

This is the very first Rooted Riff, and it’s a really special space.

Rooted Riffs is a place I’ve created very intentionally for me (and for you) for real-time reflection. It’s a place where I get to be curious and think out loud. To explore what’s moving—energetically, emotionally, practically—and how it actually integrates into real life. I am not here for spirituality that lives only in the ethers or insights that stay stuck in my mind or in my journal. And I want to let you in so I can explore with you, connect, and geek out together.

What I share here isn’t content dictated by algorithms or trends or “what you’re supposed to say.”
It’ll be filled with things that I’m actually thinking about and “downloading,” and inspiration that I’m receiving while I’m driving, or in the shower, or out on long walks with my doggos. It’s a space I’m creating so I can show up as myself—fully, authentically, and in rhythm with my own life—and I’m inviting you into that process with me because… it feels really good. (And my inner 5-year-old thinks it’s super-fun. More on her in another post!)

I plan to share roughly every two weeks, and I would love to create some conversation around the riffs.
I’m not exactly sure what that looks like yet, but I can’t wait to see it evolve.

So, a little context for why this space is coming online now…

I’ve been a bit quieter at the start of this year—and that’s been intentional.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have things to say, but I was clearing the noise, tuning in, and I was doing more listening than talking. When I got quiet, it was amazing what I could hear, and I started attuning to my body—my rhythms and what actually feels nourishing instead of obligatory. (This idea for Rooted Riffs dropped in in that space.)

This is a one-energy year, and for me, that has meant stepping into my personal authority in a very real, lived way that is self-honoring. And that means choosing myself first—and as a priority, as a daily practice. That is the kind of self-leadership we are being called into. And I’ve never been interested in teaching things I’m not actively living.

So I slowed down.

I stopped trying to keep pace with hustle rhythms and external expectations, and I started paying attention to my own, very practical, very human things:
• What does my natural sleep cycle actually look like?
• How much water does my body really need?
• Do those supplements truly support me and my intentions?
• What kind of movement feels supportive right now—not what I should be doing, but what is my body asking for?
• What’s mine and what isn’t mine to carry? (This is a big one.)
• What genuinely feels nourishing and expansive in my body? I am done with contracting.

And honestly? It’s felt a bit like a detox. A shedding of old habits, expectations, thoughts, foods, rooms. Recalibrating hasn’t always been linear—it’s sometimes meant briefly reconnecting with past “things,” only to feel, viscerally in my body, that they’re no longer for me. That clarity hasn’t come from thinking it through. It’s come from paying attention to how my body actually responds.

Some of the changes have been surprisingly practical.

Morning coffee is now a weird no (who even am I?), but a mid-day cup of Everyday Dose is the perfect pick-me-up.
My natural sleep cycle starts later than it ever did—even later than when I was a teenager.
I’m still always moving—hiking, walking the dogs, hopping on the elliptical—but my body now craves movement that’s less linear and more fluid like dance, qigong, play.

Others have been harder to untangle from. When something registers as a “problem” in my system, I’ve learned to pause—instead of reacting immediately— to decide whether it’s actually my problem (and something I need to deal with in the moment) or whether it belongs to someone else. I’m retraining my self to not pick up what doesn’t belong to me. And it’s so freeing.

What surprised me the most, though, is how much easier it feels to process things verbally right now.
Which is funny, because I’m an author and spent years teaching writing. But this season is calling for more truth, and that truth moves through the throat. I’ve discovered that writing can tighten my flow when that shadow-y perfectionism sneaks in. When I speak, I flow, and my authentic, unfiltered energy stays intact. And I’ve learned I can get so much more done in much less time when I speak it into being.

So I’ve been building structures that support that reality instead of fighting it. Systems that honor the way my brain works, keep me both focused and fluid, and allow me to stay consistent without pressure or shame. I even created a custom GPT workflow to help keep me… well… ME, and capture my verbal flow in real time—because I’m done forcing myself into containers that don’t actually fit.

I’m committing to something that feels essential right now: less noise.

I’m honoring my temple— mind•body•spirit.
What it needs. What fuels it.

Saying no to the things that are not mine—habits, emotions, systems.
Letting go of energy leaks.

I’m saying yes to lighter, easy, natural, fun.
Choosing real connection, and what’s genuinely nourishing and generative.
And giving from overflow, not depletion.
And it feels amazing.

I’m committed to creating abundance through simplicity. Through ease. Through aligned, obvious movement.

And I’m noticing these shifts aren’t just personal.

So many nervous systems are tired of holding it all. Last year felt like a stress test—for everyone. We are all emotionally, mentally, physically, energetically exhausted. And there’s a quiet readiness now. One that craves peace, regulation, connection, and something that can actually be lived.

That’s what Rooted Riffs is for.

This space will move in a two-week rhythm. Each riff will reflect what’s alive for me in real time—energetics, insights, curiosities, integrations—as I’m actually living them. Not polished. Not teaching. Just a sneak-peek into the things I actually think about, in real life, shared as is.

This year is already different. I feel it inside of me. I’m committed to sustainable magic. To presence over push. To flow over force. To playing back with the universe instead of smiling at the synchronicities and rushing past them.

And I’m committed to sharing that journey—openly, honestly, and in a way that’s relatable and rooted in real life.

Because if we don’t share what we’re exploring and use to actually make our lives better—more spacious, more grounded, more alive, more connected—what’s the point?