Burn Bright, Burn Steady: Balancing Fire and Fuel in Life and Love
We all carry a fire within us. It’s our passion, our drive, our energy to create, speak, lead, and love. Fire is powerful it can warm a home or burn it down. Left unchecked, it leaps and burns out quickly. Without fuel, even the brightest flame fades.
Fuel is different. It’s the steady wood stacked by hand, the quiet preparation, the discipline that no one sees. It’s rest, boundaries, intention, and wisdom. Fuel doesn’t shine by itself, but without it, fire has no chance to last.
Many of us live in extremes, burning too hot until exhaustion forces us to stop, or hoarding our fuel, waiting for the “perfect time” to light a match. The truth is, we need both. BALANCE. Passion without grounding is chaos. Preparation without action is stagnation.
The life we’re longing for comes in the balance of both fire and fuel. Passion and discipline. Energy and rest.
I’ve realized this in my own relationships…. I am fire, bright, moving, often restless. My spouse is fuel, steady and grounding. I depend on his constancy to steady me when I run too fast or burn too hot. And sometimes, when I notice moments where his steadiness falters, I feel threatened, almost like my flame is at risk. It has shown me how deeply fire and fuel are connected. Fire needs fuel to endure, and fuel needs fire to come alive. Both matter. Both require care.
But this isn’t just true in marriage it shows up everywhere:
Work & Calling: Fire is ambition and vision, the drive to move things forward. Fuel is planning, rest, and the discipline to pace ourselves. Without balance, we burn out or drift aimlessly.
Parenting & Caregiving: Fire is fierce love and devotion, the energy to show up. Fuel is patience, boundaries, and the wisdom to pause. Children (and loved ones) need both our spark and our steadiness.
Faith & Spirituality: Fire is zeal, worship, the spark of belief. Fuel is prayer, quiet, daily practices that sustain faith when the fire doesn’t feel as bright.
Friendships & Community: Fire is laughter, shared adventures, connection. Fuel is consistency, listening, forgiving, and showing up even when it isn’t convenient.
Personal Well-being: Fire is momentum—working out, creating, chasing goals. Fuel is recovery, sleep, solitude, nourishment, reflection.
Everywhere we look, the same truth rises….. fire alone won’t last, and fuel alone just waits.
Here are a few questions to reflect on:
Where in your life are you burning too hot?
Where are you holding back, saving fuel you never use?
What practices could help you steady your fire so it lasts?
Who in your life is your fuel and how can you honor their role?
You are not meant to burn out or burn everything down. You are meant to burn steady bringing warmth, light, and guidance to others. Your flame doesn’t need to be the biggest, just the one that endures.
What Can You Do Today to Endure?
Choose one or two to practice:
Pause before reacting. Take three slow breaths before you speak or decide.
Drink water first. Before the rush, hydrate.
Name your top three. Write down the three most important things for today and let the rest go.
Step outside. Five minutes of fresh air can reset your flame. GO TOUCH GRASS!
Fuel your body. Eat something nourishing instead of skipping a meal.
Protect a pocket of quiet. Ten minutes with no phone, no noise.
Say no once. Protect your boundaries by refusing one thing that drains you.
Reach for gratitude. Write down or say out loud three things that are good right now.
Move your body gently. Stretch, walk, dance shift your energy instead of stalling it.
End the day with release. Write, pray, or simply whisper, “It’s not all mine to carry.”
You got this ~ Burn Bright, Burn Steady: Balancing Fire and Fuel in Life and Love
The Art of Curiosity: Building Confidence by Trying New Things
curiosity builds confidence.
I’ve never been the kind of woman who sticks to just one hobby or one passion. I’ve always been pulled toward the unknown, toward the thrill of trying something I’ve never done before. Over the years, I’ve learned to sew and crochet, bake bread, decorate cakes, paint, play guitar, write songs, fish in the ocean, in a creek, and in a quiet lil pond. Once, I even rebuilt a carburetor just by reading a manual, not because I was bored, but because I had to be resourceful. That skill, the ability to figure things out when I needed to, has carried me through my life.
I’ve discovered that every time I take on something new, I grow just a little braver. It’s not about becoming an expert. It’s about realizing, if I can do this, I can do more than I think.
Just recently, I bought a book nook (insert giggles) one of those intricate little worlds that lights up when you’re done building it. When I opened the box, I felt instantly overwhelmed by all the tiny pieces and steps. But instead of pushing it aside for good, I reminded myself that it’s okay to let things be “incomplete.” When I find time, I’ll finish it. For now, I get to enjoy the excitement of knowing something beautiful is being built, piece by piece. Isn’t that how curiosity works? We don’t need to rush to the end…..we just have to start. Curiosity is a quiet teacher. It whispers, Just try. It doesn’t demand perfection. It doesn’t care if the stitches are crooked, the cake leans, or the song is off-key. What it cares about is that you dared to show up, to be teachable, to give yourself permission to start. And in that process, confidence is born not because you mastered the skill, but because you proved to yourself that you could learn.
I enjoy upscaling, repurposing, and finding joy in the little things because they remind me that beauty doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated. Confidence grows the same way…..piece by piece, through simple acts of curiosity.
Maybe that’s what I hope others see: you don’t have to wait for the perfect time, the perfect class, or the perfect tools. You just need to give yourself permission to begin. The moment you take that first step, you’ve already won.
So pick up the paintbrush. Try the recipe. Learn the song. Fix the thing that feels impossible. Curiosity is about being awake, alive, and willing to believe that you are capable of more than you know.
3 Ways to Build Confidence Through Curiosity
Start Small but Start Now
You don’t need a big project or a perfect plan. Bake a loaf of bread. Paint a single canvas. Fix something in your home. Small wins add up and remind you that you are capable.
Let Go of Perfection. Mistakes are proof that you’re learning. Every lopsided cake or clumsy guitar chord builds resilience. Confidence doesn’t come from flawless execution it comes from persistence.
Pay attention to the little nudges that make you say, I’ve always wanted to try that.
Whether it’s gardening, writing, or learning to fish, trust your curiosity and let it lead you to unexpected joy.
I will post a picture of my book nook when I get it done. Have a blessed week and let me know what your curious about! I would love to hear all about what you have learned.
Micro Habits That Help Me Stay Sane (Even When Life Is Full to the Brim)
Life is full right now. My husband and I both work full-time. I’m finishing a book I hope to publish soon, and I’m launching a small business from the ground up. We’re navigating the emotional and logistical demands of three aging parents, five adult children, and seven grandchildren ranging in age from just two days old to twelve.
The energy it takes to launch something is completely different than simply maintaining it. Add in the unpredictability of real life and the mental load can feel endless. But even in the middle of all this, I don’t feel burnt out or bitter. And it’s not because I’ve figured out some secret. It’s because I’ve started practicing micro habits that help me stay grounded.
Let’s jump into the ones that have made the biggest difference.
1. Start the Day With One Completed Task
Not a long to-do list. Not a major accomplishment. Just one thing. Make the bed. Drink a full glass of water. Put away the basket of laundry at the foot of the bed. Wipe down the kitchen counters before heading out the door.
It doesn’t really matter what it is. The point is to start the day with something finished. It builds momentum and reminds you that you’re capable, even before the day pulls you in ten different directions.
2. Write it Down
There was a time I journaled every morning. I still love it, I’m just in a season where my energy is focused on writing my book. But even now, when I jot something down whether it’s a thought, a prayer, a reminder, or a dream, it brings me clarity. It makes me feel like I’m meeting myself on the page instead of losing myself in the chaos.
3. Create a Sacred Space
This doesn’t have to be elaborate. But wherever you spend time your office, a favorite chair, the corner of your porch….make sure it feels good.
Add a blanket you love, a candle that makes you feel at peace, or a lamp that gives off the kind of light that makes you want to exhale. Even if it’s just a small space, let it serve as a sanctuary. You deserve a place that welcomes you.
4. Plan the Week Like
Sundays are my power day. I meal plan, I check my calendar, and I move items from my “Get Sh*t Done” list to actual time blocks.
This isn’t about being rigid. Its frontloading decisions and separates decision from action. Reducing stress and decision fatigue. When I already know what I’m eating on Wednesday or when I’ve carved out time to write, rest or email someone back, I don’t waste energy wondering when it will get done.
It also gives me space to flex. I work in foster care, and the unexpected happens all the time. But planning ahead means I’m not constantly reacting ….I’m simply rearranging.
5. Feel the Feels-Physically
I know this might sound odd, but hear me out: one of my favorite micro habits lately has been hugging more. Holding my husband’s hand. Giving my grandkids a squeeze. Even just sitting under a weighted blanket when I need to decompress.
when was the last time you were hugged? how did you feel?
We were made for connection. If hugs aren’t your thing, consider something simple that gives your nervous system that same "ahh" feeling warm tea, cozy socks, soft music, or that blanket that makes you feel safe.
6. Embrace the Imperfect
This might be the most important one. Stop chasing the perfect morning routine, the perfectly clean house, or the perfect family dinner. Sometimes the kitchen is a mess, you forgot to buy groceries, and everyone’s eating cereal out of mismatched bowls.
It’s OK. That’s life. It’s not supposed to be polished all the time. And honestly, those imperfect moments are often the ones we remember most.
Final Thought
The season we’re in is full, but it’s also rich. These micro habits aren’t about productivity for productivity’s sake. They’re about peace. About clarity. About presence.
I’d love to hear from you….what habits have helped you stay grounded when life feels like a lot? Leave a comment or send me a message. I read every single one.
With you in the beautiful mess,
Jennifer
Making memories with less….is always more
working on a legacy one adventure at a time.
Memories from when my kids were little still stick with me sharp, funny, sacred.
We didn’t need theme parks or fancy gear.
We had imagination, a busted lawn mower, and zero sense of self-preservation. That lawnmower had the governor ripped off, we also had a borrowed golf cart with no brakes, and a dirt road that dared us to go faster.
My kids called it Redneck Mario Kart and once we hit that hill (a little hill but still a hill) , it was on.
Bugs in our teeth. Tires going bald. No stopping even when we probably should have.
We’d barrel down like we had nothing to lose and everything to laugh about.
It was messy. It was wild. It was 100% unforgettable.
That was our kind of adventure.
No manuals. No helmet. Just creativity, courage, and a full send into the next bend.
Vacations weren’t always in the budget- okay, they rarely were.
But instead of boarding passes, we collected aluminum cans so we could send the kids to 4-H camp most years.
That in itself was an adventure sticky bags of soda cans, trips to the scrap yard,
cheering every dollar, we earned like we’d won the lottery. We made hard times look easy.
Becoming Grandma? That Was Camp Jamma Time.
When I became a grandmother, I kept that spirit alive.
We didn’t go to Disney. We went to Camp Jamma- right in the backyard.
Camp Jamma was a vibe. We built campfires in the fire pit. Roasted marshmallows until they caught flame (and ate them anyway). Read books like Put Me in the Zoo . We made zoo animals out of paper plates-paint, glue, googly eyes, the whole nine yards.
And the next day, we’d actually go to the zoo.
We’d take pictures, eat ice cream, and pretend we were on safari sticky-fingered and wide-eyed. It wasn’t fancy. But it was fun.
And my grandbabies didn’t care that it wasn’t a resort.
They just cared that we were together.
Looking back now, I realize-
We didn’t just invent fun. We invented legacy.
Skinned knees and belly laughs.
Camp Jamma and before that it was aluminum cans. Bugs in your teeth and no brakes on the hill.
The kind of memories that don’t cost much but live forever.
Some of life’s best lessons are learned when you keep going, with a blown tire and a peanut butter sandwich in your hand.
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” - Isaiah 30:21
God doesn’t always lead us to luxury. Sometimes He leads us to the lawnmower path, to the paper plate zoo,
to a backyard fire that becomes a holy place.
Adventure isn’t about arrival. It’s about showing up. So keep rolling.
Even if you swallow a bug.
If you liked this, you can read more about these adventures in my upcoming book! stay tuned!
A simple errand turns into a crisis with a side of hot flashes.
Six people. One car. At the ATM. That’s not a transaction, that’s a finance committee. Twenty minutes later, I’m sweating, starving, and asking myself why I didn’t just walk inside like a normal person. Midlife comes with invisible heat, unexplained impatience, and a whole lot of grace we’re still learning to give ourselves. Recognizing when your body needs a breather, a fan, or maybe just a chicken sandwich.
There are days you run to the bank, grab what you need, and go (I rarely use cash anymore) but…
I pulled up to the ATM, behind one car, with six people inside. That should’ve been my first clue.
But optimism (or maybe delusion) whispered, “How long could it take?”
Six people. One car….at the ATM. That’s not a transaction, that’s a finance committee. Everybody needed something different someone gets cash, another doing a balance check, is someone making a deposit, and only one card between them? The rest are they there for moral support? GEEZ
Cue 18 minutes of sweating, overthinking, and asking myself deep questions like:
“Why is my heart racing like I just ran a 5K?”
“Why am I mad at everyone but mostly at nothing?”
Spoiler: The answer is perimenopause…….And possibly my inability to just walk inside the bank like a normal person.
By the time I got to the teller (yes, I went to a different lane) another vehicle was in front of me and delayed. I got stuck - another vehicle got behind me….I was convinced my transaction would be faster.
It was not.
All I needed was cash. WWhhy did it take a bunch of tellers so long to get to my withdrawal. The inside of the bank was empty. She smiled at me when she came back and said thank you for your patience (did I detect sarcasm in that inflection?) after she was chatting with others for at least 7 minutes…… Have you ever just sat silent for 7 minutes?……after already sitting in line - I was about to scream.
I could’ve gone through Chick-fil-A at lunchtime quicker. Which by the way I hadn’t had lunch and now didn’t have time to grab it before my next meeting. I need to get back to work.
Midlife often comes with invisible heat, impatience we can’t explain, and a whole lot of grace we’re still learning to give ourselves.
I need a cold towel and probably a new prescription.
My neck fan was at home (who thought I would need it today?) by the way if you don’t have one you can get it on this site!
Ladies if you understand …. take a minute to notice when your body needs a breather or a chicken sandwich. Maybe your soul needs a reset, don’t leave home without your fan, and your sense of humor might just save the day or at least the chatty tellers life LOL.
When solitude isn’t silence, it’s soul work.
There comes a season where the noise quiets, the roles shift, and the mirror asks harder questions.
Who am I now that the nest is empty? What’s left of me when no one is watching? Where did I last feel like myself?
I created 9 Questions for Reclaiming the Lost Parts as a soul-deep invitation. Not to reinvent yourself, but to return to yourself.
It’s for the woman who feels a little lost in the middle of doing everything right. It’s for the heart that’s tired of being strong all the time. It’s for the quiet season between the letting go and the rising up.
To gently guide you back to your own voice, your own knowing, your own grace.
You’re not broken.
You’re becoming.
And maybe, just maybe, you’re finally coming home.
Some kinds of quiet are peaceful.
Others are heavy.
There’s the quiet of a morning porch, warm coffee in hand.
And then there’s the quiet of scrolling at midnight, wondering if anyone sees you.
Lately, I’ve felt the second.
Because even when you're doing meaningful work….
Holding a full-time job. (writing a book)
Showing up at family birthdays and baby showers with a gift and a smile.
Folding laundry late at night, running out of coffee or mayonnaise, AGAIN….becasue who can remember all that.
replying to messages that come with invisible expectations…
Even when you're pouring yourself into all of it
you can still feel profoundly alone.
Not because you’re doing something wrong.
Not because you aren’t strong enough.
But maybe… because the more honest , brave and aligned you become
the quieter the world around you gets.
People drift.
Platforms shrink.
You become more you and sometimes, the world just doesn’t know what to do with that.
And that’s where I’ve been lately:
In the weight of that . . . .
In the constant tension of living a full life while wondering who’s still with me in it.
And underneath it all, I keep asking:
Did I choose this solitude… or did this solitude choose me?
🪶 What the Nest Taught Me
This whole brand Nest & North was born from an empty nest.
But if I’m honest, I didn’t know how deep that ache would go.
There’s this stretch of time that comes after the house quiets down, after the sports schedules stop, after the kids move out, after the noise that filled your world for decades just… fades.
And in that hush, you start asking:
Who am I now?
What do I do with all this time and space and silence?
Am I still needed? Still wanted?
For a while, I thought maybe I had nothing left to say.
But the truth is…I was just finally quiet enough to hear my own voice again.
Because the nest isn’t just what’s left behind.
It’s where you begin again.
And when the nest feels empty, maybe that’s when it’s finally ready to hold you. Your healing. Your voice. Your story. Your next season.
So now I say this with tenderness and truth:
“This isn’t just the end of a chapter. It’s the sacred beginning of your becoming.”
If you’ve felt this too the ache of unseen effort, the quiet after the noise, the strange mixture of grief and grace. I want to invite you into the deeper work I’m exploring in The BRAVE Way Home.
Inside, you’ll find:
Soul map reflections for reclaiming the lost parts of yourself
Stories of what it means to come home after being everything for everyone else
Honest prayers for the woman who’s tired of being strong, but still standing
Want a preview ?
Download: Coming Home to Me: 9 Questions for Reclaiming the Lost Parts
You’re not alone in this quiet.
And this quiet might just be the beginning of your next brave thing.
Living Bravely, Overcoming Self-Doubt
Self-doubt is quiet, but cruel. It whispers you're not ready, not good enough, that someone else could do it better. It wears the mask of perfectionism and calls it wisdom. But the truth?
Self-doubt is a lie.
It steals your peace, your voice, and your future if you let it.
I’ve listened to those lies. I’ve stalled, questioned, rewrote my story a hundred times before I ever lived it. I even tattooed the word brave on my arm not because I felt it, but because I needed to become it.
It took me nine years to start writing this book.
Nine years of wrestling and waiting.
But bravery isn’t about being fearless. It’s about moving forward anyway.
I’ve done hard things before left my hometown, rebuilt from nothing, earned degrees I once thought were impossible. Not because I felt ready. But because I decided my story wasn’t over.
So I’ll ask you:
What if you stopped waiting?
What if yes was enough to change everything?
You don’t need permission. You don’t need perfection.
You just need to start one honest, brave step at a time.
Because the world doesn’t need a flawless you.
It needs a real one.
Self-doubt is the quiet enemy that whispers in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, that you’ll never be enough. It calls into question every choice, every word, every dream you've ever had. It hides behind the mask of perfectionism, convincing you that until you’re perfect, you can’t move forward. It tells you that others are better, smarter, more capable and somehow, you’re less.
Honest: Self-doubt is a lie. It’s a lie that masquerades as wisdom, but it’s nothing more than a thief. It steals your peace, your joy, and most importantly, your ability to move forward into what you’re meant to do. And if we keep listening to it, we’ll miss the life we’re supposed to live.
I’ve been there. I’ve listened to the voices the ones that say, “You don’t have enough.” The ones that whisper, “What do you think you’re doing? Who do you think you are?” And there have been times, honest, hard times when I let those voices win.
I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and thought, “I’m not ready. I’m not qualified. I don’t have the answers.”
And yet, I still chose to believe in something different.
I even got the word brave tattooed on my arm…….etched into my skin as a declaration, a reminder, a dare to live boldly. It was a promise I made to myself: that I would show up, that I would speak, that I would write.
But here’s the part most people wouldn’t see I didn’t actually start writing this book until nine years later.
Nine years of wrestling. Of second-guessing. Of stepping forward and retreating, running in circles and wondering if my voice mattered. I even joked and said you might as well go ahead and put on my tombstone “nobody listened to me.”
But bravery isn’t a one-time moment, it’s a posture. A choice you make, even when it's delayed. Even when you feel unqualified. Even when you carry more questions than confidence.
I’m not asking you to pretend that self-doubt doesn’t exist. I’m not asking you to shove it down or ignore it. That’s not brave. That’s avoidance. What I’m asking is for you to acknowledge it and then choose to do it anyway. You are not your doubt.
There’s a power in that. A power that says, “I may not feel ready. I may not have all the answers, but I’m doing it anyway.”
That’s where the magic happens. It’s in choosing to live boldly in the face of all the fear and uncertainty. And I promise, it will make you feel alive in a way you’ve never experienced before.That’s what I’m doing right now, as I write this.
I’ve never owned a business, but I do now. I don’t have a fancy launch plan. I haven’t even finished building out the website yet. I haven’t walked into the bank to open a business account. But I will. By the time this is printed, those things will be done.
The point is I didn’t wait until I had it all mapped out. I’m moving forward without a blueprint. I don’t know what I’m doing or exactly where this is going. But I’m taking one brave step at a time. Trusting, in faith, that when I set my foot down, the earth will rise up beneath it.
That somehow, God will meet me in the movement.
That somehow, it will all work out.
And maybe that’s what bravery really looks like not having all the answers but moving forward anyway.
One step. One page. One yes at a time.
I reminded myself I’ve done hard things before.
Remember when I packed up everything I had and moved a hundred miles away from everyone I knew? I left behind my entire support system, my family, my history, my safety net. All I carried with me was a car full of stuff and a heart full of shame. That was hard.
But in that unfamiliar town, through tears and trembling prayers, we built something beautiful. A home. A family. A small circle of friends who became a lifeline. People who didn’t care where I came from, only who I was becoming. They fed my soul and helped me heal.
I remember another season where I was so paralyzed by fear, I stopped moving altogether. I doubted myself so deeply I questioned every choice. I was stuck in a fog of second-guessing, afraid that if I moved, I’d mess it all up.
But if I go back even further…..there’s more.
I was a high school dropout, living in a trailer in my parents’ front yard. Three kids. A dog. No plan. Just survival. I felt like a failure. I felt like my story had already been written and it wasn’t the kind of story anyone would want to read.
But one day, I decided to fight for something different. I enrolled in college. Community college first, my associate's degree. That win became a bigger one. I kept going. Nobody could take away the pride I had inside from achieving something for myself. I earned my bachelor’s degree. And then, through a few more seasons, more homes, more pets, and a lot more life I earned my master’s degree. Not because it was easy. Not because I always believed in myself. But because something deep inside of me refused to let the story end where it started.
Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is not wait to feel brave.
Viola Davis once said something to the effect of: "If you can’t be brave, then be strong. And if you can’t be strong, then be kind. And if you can’t be kind, then be honest. But whatever you are, just keep moving forward."
That speaks to me. Because there were seasons where bravery felt out of reach. The strength was too heavy. Kindnesses, especially to myself…. sigh…..was hard to come by.
But honesty? That I could hold on to. I could admit I was scared. I could say, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” I could cry while taking the next step.
And I did.
Because moving forward even messy is still movement.
That’s what Viola’s story reminds me of. She didn’t come from polished beginnings. Neither did I. Maybe you didn’t either. But we don’t need perfect paths. We need honesty, grit, and enough faith to take one small step. And if you can do that? You’re already braver than you think
If you’re waiting for self-doubt to leave before you start living, you’ll be waiting forever. I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in waiting. Life is too short to let self-doubt keep us small.
You do not need permission.
The truth is, you’re already enough. I know it doesn’t always feel that way. There are days when you look in the mirror and think, "Who am I to do this?" But that’s not the question. The question is, "Who am I to not do this?" The world needs what you’ve got, your story, your gifts, your heart. We need women who rise in the face of fear and self-doubt and say, “Not today.”
Living boldly is about action. It’s about walking into rooms with your shoulders back, eyes open, and heart full, even when the world around you is loud with doubt. And it’s about believing, deep in your bones, that God is with you every step of the way.
You’ll see the strength you never knew you had. You’ll see the woman you were always meant to be.
So, let me ask you:
What would happen if you lived without doubt?
If you lived boldly, with backbone and bravery
Pause here. Take a breath. Imagine the freedom in that choice.
If you stopped waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect answer, the perfect version of yourself
And just gave yourself permission to love a part of yourself right now?
Not the “someday” you. Not the polished, got-it-all-together you.
Just the you that woke up this morning with mascara-soaked pillows, still carrying fear but willing to show up anyway. What if you let the past stay behind you the old version of yourself, the “mug shot” moments, the mistakes and regrets fade gently into the distance?
What if you gave yourself permission to rebuild, not with pressure or shame, but with grace?
Beth Moore once said, “God is not looking for extraordinary people. He's looking for ordinary people who are willing to say yes.”
What if yes was enough to change everything?
What if you chose bravery right in the middle of chaos, the healing, the doubt, the rebuilding? Please don’t doubt who you are.
And if you haven’t been loved the way you needed to be loved, find a way to love yourself anyway.
It took me so so long to truly understand that. To look in the mirror and genuinely like who I saw. Self-doubt and low self-esteem share the same roof and they lie. They twist the truth, block your progress, and are the worst enemies of your breakthrough.
There were so many times I didn’t feel brave. I didn’t feel ready. I just kept stepping forward, shaky and unsure, trusting that somewhere up ahead was a version of me I hadn’t met yet but I was determined to find her.
That version was worth the fight.
I want you to fight for your brave soul within.