What my kid taught me about knowing yourself.

For the last year or so, I’ve been working through some stuff that’s been really challenging me.

My son is in the second semester of his senior year. This means I’m asked every few days what his plans are. What people really want to know: where’s he going to college?

But my son is choosing not to go the college route.

A year ago, I was really struggling with that decision. I was so upset, I started seeing a child psychologist who specializes in teen boys just to manage myself.

Every time someone asked about his plans, I felt like I had to signal that I was disappointed. That I knew better. That I was trying.

I was so caught up in my own expectations and personal image that I forgot to actually look at what was right for my kid. 

What a difference a year makes.

 
 


Always learning from my kid

Now when someone asks, I proudly share my son’s plans.

His friends are committing to schools, doing last-minute tours, and I fully expected to feel a pang of something.

I really don't.

I’m delighted to only feel excitement for his friends and confidence in my kid.

What changed? It wasn’t just arguments and time, although I needed to work through that too.

I was convinced by his clarity.

He’s not opting out on a whim. Or because he’s a slacker. Far from it.

He’s already building a real business. He has a vision and a plan, and he knows — really knows — that the traditional path isn't the right one for him.

That kind of clarity is hard to argue with. And I’m finding it all super inspiring.


Eyes on your own paper

Watching my kid and how laser-focused he’s been on his goals has me thinking how easy it can be to waste energy chasing paths that were never meant for us.

I have 25 years of experience in this work. I’m clear on a lot. And I still sometimes catch myself looking at someone else’s business and thinking: Should I be doing that?!

The “shoulds” pile up fast in the entrepreneurial world.

You should launch a course. You should be building toward seven figures. You should hire. You should offer a group program so you can “scale.”

Some of those paths might be right for you. But a lot of them are just noise — things that worked for someone else’s business, in someone else’s season, with someone else’s goals.

Two questions worth sitting with:

→ Who are you in your business right now?

→ What do YOU actually want?


Clarity, clarity, clarity

A lot of the women I work with are in a specific kind of limbo: their work has evolved, gotten sharper and more refined, but their branding hasn’t caught up.

Maybe your website still reflects an earlier version of you. Or you’re not quite sure how to articulate who you are now. You just know your current messaging isn’t it.

That disconnect has real costs.

You may be second-guessing your positioning. Hesitating when someone asks for your website. Undercharging, because your brand doesn’t back up what you actually deliver.

So we start with clarity.

My Branding Roadmap is a 90-minute working session where we get clear on who you are now, where you’re going, and what kind of work you actually want to be known for.

From there, I write the copy and design a website that reflects that.

You don’t have to follow anyone else’s blueprint. But you do have to know your own.

That’s what the Branding Roadmap is for.

Goodies Just For You

WHAT I’M THINKING ABOUT: Anyone else watch the Love Story finale this week? I cried my eyes out. My face is still puffy as I write this. The series was horribly uneven. Some of the acting was terrible and some scenes were embarrassingly bad. And yet I couldn’t get enough. I’m going to start listening to the podcast tomorrow. The music. The fashion (believe I bought a white shirt and black skirt). And the love story! It was wild how I was rooting for them even though I obviously knew how it would end. I was obsessed with Carolyn Bessette in the 90s and I can tell I’m going to be haunted by her for a bit longer now. 

RELATED SIDE NOTE: Caroline Kennedy’s daughter, Tatiana Schlossberg, wrote an incredibly moving essay for the New Yorker a few months before she died of leukemia at age 35. Highly recommend. 

WHAT I’M MAKING: I’ve shared this before, but it’s in constant rotation in my house, so I’m sharing it again: Garlicky Chicken with Lemon Anchovy Sauce. I make it with chicken breasts and just don’t put it in the oven. About 5 minutes on each side. It doesn’t taste at all like anchovy — just umami yumminess. It’s one of my son’s favorites. 

WHO I’M ADMIRING: Elizabeth Couch is a sales coach for women founders running service-based businesses. She just announced that she’s having a baby girl this summer, so if you’re interested in working with her, now is the time. Two easy, low-commitment ways to work with her: Pick My Brain” Power Hour (possible topics include: how to handle recurring objections; lead gen strategy; reviewing your pitch). VIP Day: For busy founders who know they're leaving money on the table but don't have time for a drawn-out coaching engagement. She just offers 5 spots a month for VIP Days and 2 are already taken for April. Check her out here and subscribe to her newsletter. I’m really enjoying it. 

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The Importance of Good Messaging