Leaves under our feet and blue sky above our heads, we saunter into the empty solitude of the tiny park near our house. My Great Dane Edmund cannot keep his feet moving fast enough underneath him to keep up with his excitement. Nose plowing through the piles of leaves as his tail wags, the park is a beacon of curiosity and contentment.

However, it’s really nothing special, in truth. A few play areas for kids, a few pavilions, and lots of trees. The paved path loops through the entire park, and we rarely leave the road.
Edmund is, admittedly, not a huge fan of nature. He appreciates sniffing the grass, the trees, and the forest creatures from afar—he enjoys this park because it is an urbanized version of nature. Still, his entire body relaxes when we are at this small abode.
​
The typically anxious, always on high-alert Great Dane settles into himself and the freedom I offer him on his leash to just sniff, to just be a dog. To Edmund, our weekly jaunt to the park near our house is an adventure, a reminder of how the world is there purely for exploration.
If I’m being honest, though, our weekly trip to the park isn’t just for Edmund—it’s for me, too. For while the park is a chance to get out and explore for Edmund, it’s a chance for me to get away. It’s a place of true quiet, where even the traffic fades into the distance in favor of the heron’s calls overhead. It’s a place that doesn’t require anything of me—not money, not interaction, and certainly not status. It’s a place where I can breathe in the silence and exhale all of society’s pressures as I take in the vastness of the trees, the leaves, and the fact that nature doesn’t care about any of it.

Watching Edmund explore this simple place near our house, I’m always reminded that the world really IS a vast, wide-open place waiting for us to notice it. And I’m also reminded that even though exotic trips and locales are exciting, you don’t have to jet-set to Paris or the Caribbean or Egypt to find marvels. There is exploration and adventure to be done right in your hometown that doesn’t cost a thing. There is inspiration around you if you take a moment to unplug and appreciate it. There is always something new to see, to marvel in, to revel in, if you’re willing to go out and find it.
You don’t have to go somewhere to special to realize how special life is. That’s the lesson I’ve learned from this tiny, humble park near our house. That’s the lesson I come back to every single week when I come with Edmund to this holy ground of sorts—because isn’t it just so easy to forget all of that in the hustle and bustle of life? Don’t we all need a reminder sometimes of the words my favorite poet Whitman says when pondering the meaning of life:

Answer: That you are here.
That life exists and identity.
That the powerful play goes on,
And you may contribute a verse.

The best piece of advice I can give you, modern woman, is this:

Walk with your head held high.

Literally, I mean walk with your head held high, your gaze confident.

Even when you're unsure or worry.
When you know their whispers are about you.
When you're not sure where you're going.
Keep your head held high.

When they're not listening to you.
When they ignore your worth.
When they joke about the size of your thighs.
Keep your head held high.

When your self-talk says you're too stupid,
too ugly,
too loud,
too bitchy,
Keep your head held high.

When no one is on your side.
When you're invisible.
When you've lost your voice.
Keep your head held high.

I see too many women 
walking small,
eyes down,
crumpled into themselves
like their existence
requires an apology.

Hell No. 

Walk with your head up,
your eyes laser focused ahead.
Walk with your shoulders back,
tall and proud.
Hell, add a red lip and
really come into your own.

Walk with your head up 
owning your worht and
your space.
The thing is, when you do,
they'll notice. They'll pause.
They'll question. 
Confidence breeds
respect.

But you know what?
It isn't even about them.

It's about you.

Because when you walk 
like you've already got the
crown on your head, you'll
believe it.
You'll kick that fear aside.
You'll ignore the hate.
Because when you walk with your head
up and take up the
space that's rightfully yours, they'll
remember who you are.

​So will you.

Hustle culture snatched you up after high school, its venomous claws turning your head the way it wanted. Its mantras replay over and over, a twisted, cyclical trap.

Life's for achieving.
Money is for collecting.
Everyone's opinion matters.
Reputation must be guarded.
More is your standard.

So, woman in your 20s, you keep chasing it all like a discombobulated chicken. You constantly try to improve your looks because pretty girls get ahead. You make sound career choices and never say the dreaded "no." You collect the Instagram photos from worthy locales but also try to remember to save for retirement. You have fun so you can hoard those "wild party moments" to retell later in life but you're also wise because one slipup could mean disaster for your reputation. You make friends and do the brunches. You keep an eye on the biological clock like everyone tells you to. You network and pick a house. You decorate it like you're Martha Stewart and try to keep up with the household while working all the hours. You fall in love and win his heart. You win over his Mama, too. You play house and buy a house and climb the ladder only to climb it again and you never, ever stop for a breath because to pause, even more a moment, is to be left behind.

In short, you run yourself ragged until you barely recognize who you are or even what the hell you want anymore. Because that's what we're supposed to do. 

Right?
​

You do it all because you're a modern woman--and then poof. One day, you realize the "best decade of your life" is over, and it wasn't all that great. You realize you didn't use enough sunscreen like your Mama told you and now you've got too many wrinkles. But more importantly, you realize that you spent so much of your 20s doing what everyone else wanted you to do--that you forgot to live for yourself.

You hoarded the things, the moments, the achievements. But you stand in your cluttered house of knick-knacks and collectibles and ask yourself: what does it all mean? What does it matter?

And that, my friends, is how so many of us wake up in our 30s dazed, tired, and quite frankly, lost.

I used to be that hustle girl, always reaching for more. I chased the full-time job and the path I thought would lead me to happiness. I collected money and things (and also cats, to my husband's chagrin). I tried to be the "good girl" who did all the things and never let anyone see my frown. I chased the hustle culture, always trying to level up. Most of all, I spent my 20s fearing my 30s--because according to society, 30 was old for women, was the point where you had to have it all figured out.

I cried copious tears over the 30 candles on my birthday cake and fell for the lie we're told in our 20s--we become convinced that success is life's currency, life's true measure. 

For some, we measure that success with our bank accounts or the number of designer bags we can afford. Others accumulate job titles. Some of us use houses or cars or lovers as our marker. Regardless, "More," is our mantra, and hustle is both our motivation and our curse in our 20s.

However, as a 34-year-old, I've gotten far enough to learn this: the real currency in life isn't money, fame, or success. It's peace. Because peace is the only thing that can add up to real, genuine happiness.

Peace is that long, slow breath when you look failure in the eye and know you'll be okay.

It's rest and grace for yourself when the world keeps shouting "Not enough."

It's acknowledging that collecting all the bags, money, and titles in the world doesn't mean shit if you're too burnt out to enjoy them.

Peace is understanding second or third or tenth best isn't losing. 

It's living in the moment and inhaling the beauty of stillness, of calmness, of satisfaction.

Peace is having the courage to say: I'm enough. It's enough.

Peace is the currency, the true goal, the true answer.

Sometimes, I think maybe we have to go through the hustle of our 20s to learn this lesson, to really learn it in our bones. Sometimes, I think it was because I was so lost and tired when I got to 30 from trying to be everything for a decade that I finally understood.

But to the women who are in your 20s right now, maybe this doesn't have to be your plight. Maybe you can learn from us. Maybe you can find the answer sooner. Maybe you already have. 

I hope so. I hope you can rise above the culture that demands more. I hope you say "yes" to less, to being enough, to living with enough.

I hope you know life is more than collections and money and material things. I hope you find the value of peace early on and understand how many possibilities open up for you when you truly embody it.

To you, women in your 20s, I say: find your peace. Find it early. And then, never let anyone tell you any other way to live. 

Lifeless.
That was the word that had started to come to mind when I thought about my days. Not the kind of lifeless that stems from a day or two of being tired or from a tragic time. It was the kind of lifeless that broiled up daily from a deep-rooted, all-encompassing emptiness. I had stopped feeling passion about anything anymore. I had stopped feeling joy. More importantly, I had stopped feeling like myself.
​
 It was my husband who helped me come to my full awakening that the deep despondency I was feeling about my job wasn’t normal. He noticed how it had become an unspoken rarity for me to tell him I had a good day at work. More often than not, I would come home crying from the stress, anxiety, and frustrations from my job. And sure, I had summer vacation—but I found myself living only for those months. Nine months of the year, I had become an overwhelmed, angry shell of who I really was. So, after many job applications, rejections, self-doubts, and months, I did the unthinkable. I left teaching.

I am an ex-teacher. It’s a title I never in a million years thought I would possess. Ever since I was a little girl teaching stuffed animals on the stairs with my tiny chalkboard, teaching was my dream. Mostly, I wanted to teach because I’ve always believed in the power of education. I love the doors and possibilities that open up with education, and I wanted to incite that spark in others. For about seven years, I did just that—and that light inspired me, too. I felt passion for my work and built connections with my students that still stand today. I created engaging activities, graded papers, taught about Shakespeare, and did all the teaching things. I felt alive.
​
But, for those of you in education, you know there was a shift even before the COVID word began to leak into our daily existence. About seven years into my career, it became apparent that education had changed. The students had changed. And with those transformations, something broke in the education system—and in me. 

I could go on and on about what I think is wrong in the system that is, in many ways, collapsing around so many. I could talk about the lack of respect and the move from encouraging intrinsic motivation in students to extrinsic and sometimes non-existent motivation. I could talk about how our grading systems are diluting all the true purposes of learning. I could go on and on about how we are failing our teachers, but we are also failing our students by not preparing them for the fact that life is hard. I could talk about how the school system has become a giant excuse factory that allows unacceptable, unsafe behaviors to be harbored in our classrooms and how teachers are held responsible for every hostile facet of an environment that surfaces from such naïve philosophies.

I could talk about the scary moments I’ve had and the even scarier fact that so many moments had no consequences for the students. I, like so many educators, could also give you too many stories of times I felt completely de-humanized, disrespected, and even unsafe in the classroom to the point I felt constantly sick to my stomach. I could tell you about how I felt stuck, trapped in a profession with little upward mobility or recognition for hard work. I could tell you things that would make you afraid for the future of the education system.

But if you’re a teacher thinking of leaving, you know all this already, and I’m not here to write a dissertation for a public that already is ready to crucify educators for every misstep, misspoken word, or claim about the faultiness of student behavior. I’m here to tell you about the other side of things—the side so many of us dream of but are afraid to go and explore.

In truth, I made the decision to leave teaching years ago when my heart started to die a little bit each time I walked into that classroom and saw a total sense of apathy growing in the students. It was the final school year when my decision was made. I was trying to inspire students to chase dreams and live their best lives, but at my core, I wasn’t living mine. I didn’t recognize the person I had become—anxiety-filled, tearful, depressed, and often ill. I finally decided to listen to my inner voice and my favorite mantra:

“You are not a tree.” I made the change.
​

On the other side of the teaching wall, I want to tell you this—I’m happy. Truly, unrecognizably happy. I no longer dread going to work. In fact, I enjoy what I’m doing. I’ve found a job related to my ultimate passion, writing, and it feels like a dream to get to do this work every single day. I no longer find myself napping for hours after work from exhaustion and sadness. I no longer feel sick to my stomach when I walk in the front doors, and I no longer feel disrespected or blamed for things out of my control. I now have opportunities for growth and learning that excite me.

I want to share with you some things I’ve learned from my shift from teaching. I’m sharing these things because I know there are a lot more out there like me—feeling broken-down, despondent, and tired but too afraid to say something. I know there is a hero-complex in teaching where it makes you feel like a bad person to even suggest you want to leave or that things aren’t perfect. I also know there is a deep curiosity about what it really is like on the other side of the education system.

I also want to make it clear that I came from a school with great administrators. The issues I experienced weren’t because of them. They were supportive and kind. It’s just that they, too, are encompassed by a broken system. They can’t be expected to singlehandedly change an entire educational structure, either.
​
I hope that these insights I’ve had help someone else who is trying to make the difficult decision to leave. I’m not saying leaving is right for everyone. Certainly, we need dedicated educators to stay, to fight the fight, and to make changes. However, I also don’t think that’s the path for all of us. I don’t think it’s selfish to want something different for yourself. So, here are the things I’ve learned these past few months since leaving my classroom for the last time.

​In education more than any other job, there is a feeling of guilt for leaving the profession. I think it’s because during our careers, we’re constantly reminded that we’re there for the kids. Every new task, every insurmountable hurdle, every exhausting week, we’re reminded that we’ll do anything “for the betterment of the kids.” We’re told often that you can’t pour from an empty cup—but that’s exactly what we’re encouraged to do. If you’re not sacrificing your health, sleep, and social life for the kids, you’re not doing enough. This “never enough” mentality rules us, plagues us, and preys on us. Because here’s the thing—we go into teaching because we do care and we do want to make a difference. And that’s what makes leaving feel that much harder.
 
We’re made to feel sometimes like we’ve abandoned the great cause. We’re made to feel like we’re lazy or uncaring for wanting a job where we’re respected and recognized for our efforts. We’re made to feel like we’re terrible teachers for leaving.
 
I struggled with that for a while when I first left. If I was really such a good teacher, why didn’t I stay and fight the good fight? Shouldn’t I raise my voice and try to make changes? But here’s the thing I’ve come to understand now—the good fight is rigged. That’s not to say it’s hopeless, but I’m here to tell you that if your mental health and well-being is suffering, fighting the good fight isn’t fighting any good fight at all.
 
The kids are important, certainly. But I’m going to say something controversial in education—you’re important, too. You matter, too. Your well-being, your motivation, your passions, and your dreams all matter. It isn’t selfish to want a new dream.

​When I became a teacher, I knew the kids would be disrespectful. We had entire chapters in our college textbooks devoted to how to deal with students with behavior issues. Still, in the past few years, things have taken a dark turn.
 
I think we come to a point as teachers where we are inundated with such a toxic, verbally abusive environment that we begin to believe that’s how it is everywhere. We begin to think we aren’t worthy of respect or that somehow, it’s just part of the job. We’re sworn at, accused falsely, told we’re worthless, challenged, and disrespected all in the name of “that’s kids for you.” We’re told that we have no power, told that we have no say in our own classrooms, and told that we’re not even worthy of human decency. This is no longer a rare occurrence, either. This is something that happens multiple times a day in classrooms, to the point that it has become the norm.
 
The scary part looking back? We start to believe it. We believe it’s normal to be called a bitch or told because we’re women, we aren’t respected. We believe it’s normal to be afraid of being cussed out, having violence in our classrooms, or being told we don’t know what we’re doing despite numerous degrees and years of experience. We take it with a smile because that’s what we should do.
 
Certainly, when working with teenagers or younger, you know there’s going to be disrespect. But when day in and day out, you’re verbally abused, told you don’t matter, and talked to in ways that would never be acceptable anywhere else, all without consequences at times, it takes a mental toll.
 
Now that I’m in a professional corporate environment, I want to say this—it’s not normal. Not even close. And now that I’m somewhere with professional standards, I’ve come to walk with my head a little higher. I’ve come to be appreciated for my talents, my skills, and my experience. I’ve come to understand that teenagers or not, it’s never okay to be talked to the way I was on a daily basis.

​This is another eye-opening find I’ve had since leaving the classroom. I no longer dread Mondays. I no longer feel that sickness in the pit of my stomach when I walk through the door. I no longer count the hours until my next day off.
 
I’m just steadily happy. Every day, I feel like there’s something to look forward to. And most of all, even when I have a hard day at work, I’m not wiped out completely to the point I need to sleep the night away. I leave work, go home, and have the energy and passion to pursue what I love. I’m working on my hobbies again. I’m exercising more. I’m sleeping better. The quality of my life when I’m not at work has exponentially improved. I’m just plain happy—both at home and at work.

It’s still crazy to me sometimes to think I left teaching, the only thing I ever dreamed of doing. But the thing I’ve learned these past few months is that dreams change sometimes, and that’s okay. I know this article might sound like teaching is hopeless or that I think everyone should leave education. Let me be clear—I don’t. If you still love teaching, if you think it’s still worth the negatives, then by all means, keep teaching. We need passionate educators to continue moving the education system forward. We need educators to light a fire for learning in our students. I still am thankful we live in a country that believes in free education for all.

However, if you’re connecting with some of the negatives I mentioned, then I hope this article gives you pause. There are all sorts of reasons we tell ourselves we need to stay in education or in any job, really, that we’re no longer happy in. We think about the wise choice, the less risky choice, the comfortable choice. Was leaving teaching easy? Not at all. I sacrificed some things like my summers, my pension, and the stable comfort of knowing exactly what I was doing. Change is always slightly uncomfortable and terrifying, and this was no exception. It was hard starting over and learning a new job. It was hard leaving my friends. It was hard leaving behind the students I had connected with.

Still, do you know what’s harder? Going to a job every day where you feel dead inside. Going to a job where you don’t remember your worth anymore or where you feel sick to your stomach every day. Going to a job you no longer fully believe is right for you.
​
Leaving teaching will never be easy. There will be internal and external struggles. But, standing here on the other side of my choice, I can tell you I made the best one for me. I’m now in a job I love, a job that lights me up again. I’m in a job where I walk through the door and feel respected, heard, and appreciated. I’m in a job where I feel like I am empowered to make a difference without swimming upstream all the time. I’m in a job where I feel energized and not exhausted. 

There will be some who will read this and be angry. There will some who will read this and think I’m a bad teacher for leaving. There will be some who will be rooting for me to fail. But that’s okay.
 
I’ve learned from leaving teaching that especially when you’re an educator, everyone will have an opinion about your choices. The only important one, though, is your own. So, to the educators who are thinking of leaving teaching—I hope you learn to dismiss everyone else’s opinion and listen to yourself. And, if that inner voice tells you it’s time to go—I hope you go with your head held high and excitement for what’s to come. Because the greatest lesson I’ve learned since leaving the classroom? It’s a great big, wide world out there beyond the classroom, and when it feels like it’s time to go, it’s okay to head out into the great unknown and explore. As the Walt Whitman poster that was hanging in my classroom said, “Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find.”
 
Sail thou forth, dear teacher. There’s a wide horizon waiting for you.

Lindsay (L.A.) Detwiler is a USA Today Bestselling thriller author, former English teacher, and a Communications Specialist from Pennsylvania. Her novel The Widow Next Door, published with HarperCollins UK, hit the USA Today Bestseller's list. She has numerous other bestselling published novels, including The Diary of a Serial Killer's Daughter and Remember When.

*If you are looking for help and courage to make the change, I highly recommend checking out the Teacher Career Coach (This isn't an ad at all...I just followed her on IG and loved her content). She really helped me find the courage to chase my new dream. Check her out on Instagram @teachercareercoach

Staring into the mirror, a popular quote from My Big Fat Greek Wedding came to mind: “Look, I was going through a phase. I was Frump Girl.”

If you haven’t seen the movie, it’s essentially about a girl who wakes up in her thirties to realize she’s not living the life she wants. She goes through a physical transformation, starts taking classes, and falls in love. It’s a movie about blossoming, essentially–but at the beginning of this year, I felt like I’d made a transformation into Frump Girl, not from it.

So many of us have our own stories of struggle from these past few years. The pandemic didn’t really do anyone any mental health or physical health favors. So many of us gained weight, got depressed, and struggled with who we were. Years later, we’re still living in the aftermath. So many friends, colleagues, and acquaintances I know have expressed struggling with their identity and confidence in the past year. 

I also fell prey to the pandemic in some ways. Staying at home, while a blessing for my introverted nature, also led to some unwanted side effects. Weight gain, unhealthy habits, and social isolation played their part in my transformation into Frump Girl. Add to that a husband who lost his job right before the pandemic and my mastiff, my best friend, dying, and it was a recipe for a mid-thirties crisis. 

In the past few months, though, I’ve managed to crawl out of my frumpy, slumpy mindset–all without spending thousands of dollars on quick fixes. I wanted to share what worked for me in case you, too, find yourself in a season of frump. 

Check out my best tips that worked for me to get me out of my slump. To be clear, it wasn’t about looking physically better like so many posts tell you on Pinterest. This isn’t a post about how to be the sexiest version of yourself or how to meet society’s beauty standards. It’s more about confidence. It’s about rediscovering who you are and how you can show up in the world as your best self. Check out what helped me do just that below, and steal any ideas that inspire you.

I want to say that I am not sponsored by any of the brands or items I mention ( I wish!). I am sharing things I truly love. 

1. Find inspiring podcasts

    It’s a common mantra in the motivational field that you become who and what you surround yourself with. While watching The Kardashians all day might be a fun escape, it might also not be what your struggling mental state needs. When I was at my lowest, I sought out podcasts and social media that made me feel like I could conquer the world–not like I was lacking.

My all-time favorite podcast is definitely the Rachel Hollis podcast. I know she doesn’t resonate with everyone (who does?), but I love that she is a high-achiever who speaks to women. She really talks a lot about chasing more in your life and going after your dreams, which is something I love.

I also recently found the Manifestation Babe, which is a bit more of a hippie-trippie ride. Still, I found myself interested in spirituality in different versions in the past few months, and manifestation was something that kept coming up in a lot of my social media feeds. 

Whatever you choose to listen to, find something that you look forward to listening to and that fills you with motivation. Instead of watching the news before work, I started listening to podcasts to start my day off on the right foot. It’s made a world of difference in how I see things.


2.    Add three healthy habits to your routine

Unless you’re living in a celebrity-sized mansion, it was almost impossible to get enough steps and physical activity in during the stay-at-home phase of the pandemic. For many of us, the habit of lethargy followed us even into 2022. Weight gain was a common issue with so many of us as a result of 2020.

I am not a fitness junkie by any means. In fact, my family likes to tease me that the only ‘B’ I ever got on a report card was in gym class. Still, there have been enough studies and my own experience to tell me that staying physically active and healthy improves your confidence. I don’t care how much you weigh or what size your clothes are, and you shouldn’t, either. Still, when you work on your health, you walk differently. You feel better in your clothes, and you feel better period.

For me, as someone who hates eating healthy and working out, I challenged myself back in February to add three healthy habits to my routine. I picked:

1. Take vitamins every single day.
2. Drink more water.
3. Work out at least 20 minutes a day in addition to walking the dog.

This felt doable, and it’s something I’ve stuck with even now. This summer, I worked more on cleaning up my nutrition to support these three, but to start, this was what I focused on. Nothing crazy or impossible. 

I challenge you to pick three healthy habits as well. They don’t have to match mine. Maybe one of your healthy habits will be to journal every day in support of your mental health. Maybe you’ll trade your iced coffees for green tea instead, or maybe you’ll add a salad to your dinner each day. Pick three smaller health goals and run with them–and be sure to give it time before you discount the benefit. I didn’t see a change in my mood or health for several months. It takes time, truly.

If you are looking to add fitness to your routine, one app I loved was FitON. I still am using it because it has so many workouts…and the FREE version is absolutely perfect. You can stay on the free plan forever and still have plenty to do. None of the workouts are locked (the paid version just gives you the ability to choose different music and to download the workouts). I never get bored, and there are seriously workouts for every level. I’ve been loving the Pilates workouts lately. 


3.    Turn to Non-Fiction
As a bookworm, another way I know to get out of a slump is through reading. During my hardest periods, I picked up non-fiction specifically to boost my mood. You can find books out there on any topic you want to get inspired about.

My favorite is again by Rachel Hollis: Girl, Wash Your Face and Girl, Stop Apologizing. I love these books for women because they help you get out of your own way. 

I also picked up several manifestation books about positive mindset that really helped. Another book I strongly recommend is The Gap and the Gain by Dan Sullivan and Dr. Benjamin Hardy. If you are a high achiever who feels like you are never accomplishing enough, this will change your whole mindset.


4. Make a Goal Wall

You’ve probably heard of visualization boards or manifestation boards. I’ve turned my bathroom mirror into my own version of this so that every morning, it’s the first thing I see. It’s also what I look at while I’m getting ready, and this helps me stop negative self-talk.

On my mirror, I have several things:

1. My all-time, biggest, wildest dream at the top of the mirror in huge letters (Mine is to be a NYT Bestselling author). 
2. The word I identify with the most/ my passion: Writer
3. A list of bucket-list type goals I’m working towards right now, big and small
4. A photograph of my happiest moment with my mastiff Henry
5. A photograph from Outlander because I’m obsessed and it makes me happy.

Sometimes, when I find a quote I love, I’ll put a post-it note on my mirror. Sometimes, I change my goal wall or add to it. The point is that every morning, the first thing I see are my goals, what I’m aiming for, and things that light me up. It’s hard to feel frumpy or like you’re in a slump when you’ve literally got your eye on where you’re headed.

Don’t limit yourself, either, when you make your lists or goals. The bigger the better. I firmly believe that goals and dreams are what keep us inspired, motivated, and get us off the sofa. 



5. Change up your fashion
After the pandemic, I found myself in a fashion slump as well. Sweatpants and baggy shirts had become my uniform, and this frumpy style did nothing for my confidence. To get out of this rut, I did a few things.
 
I started looking on Pinterest for outfit ideas. I thought about what the best version of myself would wear, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. I stopped worrying about what others thought I should wear or what was practical. I thought about what outfits would make me happy.

Next, I started upgrading my wardrobe. One of my favorite places to do this is Stitch Fix. Yes, it’s very pricy. Truly. It’s not something I do all the time. Still, the stylists are great at sending pieces that fit your style but also push you out of your comfort zone. There were so many pieces they sent that I never would have tried on but that looked great and made me feel awesome. They are always my favorite pieces. They are an investment, but I can tell you that all of my Stitch Fix clothes are my favorites and have lasted years. I swear I am not sponsored by them, but if you want to give them a try, I do have a code here where you can get $25 when you order your first Stitch Fix Box. (Full disclosure: I do get $25 if you sign up as well, so thank you in advance if you do sign up and help me add to my wardrobe.)

You don’t have to spend a fortune to enhance your style, though. I also adore shopping at T.J. Maxx, Ross, and Burlington because I get so many amazing brands and styles for a fraction of the price. I actually bought a few top-notch brand shoes at Burlington for only $30 total. Poshmark is another place to look for high-quality brands at a fraction of the price. I just bought myself my dream Michael Kors purse for $50. 

It’s not about how much you spend or the brands, though. Truly. It’s about dressing in a way that makes you feel confident. Sometimes, it’s just about mixing up your look to something new and exciting.



6. Take some quiet time to think

This sounds like a ridiculous tip that is too simple, but one of the best ways I got out of my funk was to take some quiet time to think. I used this time to think about the following:

1. All that I’ve accomplished so far
2. Visualizing my big, wild dreams
3. Thinking about who I really am at this moment

Sometimes our “frumpy” feelings come from the disconnect between who we were and who we have become. Our sense of identity doesn’t always catch up with our changes, so taking time to really reflect on these questions can help us feel more steady and stable. I try to take a few minutes by myself to go for a walk with the dog and just think–no technology, no music, just me. Another place I love is my hammock. I find that if you can find a place outside to do your thinking, it really does soothe the soul somehow.

Find your own quiet space and take at least ten minutes a day to just be. I promise you’ll see a big difference.


7. Invest in beautiful undergarments

I used to think buying bras and underwear that were nice was a waste of money, but truly, if you’re looking for confidence, this is a great way to give yourself a boost. Ditch the grandma panties and find something that makes you feel sexier or more put-together. Get fun patterns or colors you wouldn’t normally. Invest in luxurious feeling fabrics. This is a simple way to boost your confidence without making a big show of it to the world.

8. Try something new

Monotony is a confidence killer. If you need to break out of a slump, try mixing up your routine in a small way. This can take on so many forms.

• Try a new brand of coffee in the morning or get a new makeup product.
• Take a different route home or on your walk.
• Try a new restaurant that you’ve never been to, or get something off the menu you normally wouldn’t.
• Go on Pinterest and try a new hobby, craft, or skill.
• Check off something on your bucket list.

I have found that the best way to get out of a funk or depression was to try something new. A couple years ago, I finally checked off horseback riding from my bucket list–and it was my favorite day. My soul literally felt lighter after that experience because it was new, exciting, and challenging. In the fall, I also started candy making, which was something I always wanted to learn but never did. It’s something I do just for me (and for family and friends so I’m not eating all the candy), and it’s just soothing.

Find one small way to mix up your routine today. Do something that scares you a little. Take a class to learn something brand-new. Trying new things truly does feed the soul and gets you out of your boring routine.



9. Makeup and skincare

Having a skincare routine has helped me feel less frumpy, even on days I don’t wear makeup. There are so many options out there for every budget. I love Drunk Elephant for a splurge, but the Inkey List at Sephora has tons of affordable options that I think are great dupes. Get into the habit of taking care of your skin, though. Even just the ritual of layering on the serums and creams, something you do just for yourself, can help boost your confidence.

I also find that makeup is a fun way to get out of a rut. I love trying new looks. Pinterest and TikTok are great places to look for fun, achievable looks. Get a new palette with bright colors to try or, my personal favorite confidence boost: a bold, red lip. I think a red lip makes every woman strut a little differently.

Again, it’s all about trying something new and boosting your confidence. Little changes go a long way.


10. Talk to a friend 

The best piece of advice I can give you if you are in a slump is this: talk to someone about it. I think so many times, social media makes us feel like we have to only show our smile to the world. We see all of our friends’ successes, gorgeous vacations, beautiful photos, and we think we can’t be vulnerable. We don’t want others to know we’re struggling. We lie and say we’re great when inside, we’re dying.

Be brave enough to talk to someone–a spouse, a friend, a family member. Tell them the truth about how you’re feeling. Or, if you don’t have someone you feel comfortable talking to, find a group online that you connect with around a common interest. Feeling a sense of belonging and being able to be honest with others is what life is all about. 

I think you might be surprised, too, to find that if you are honest with others about your struggles, you perhaps will find you’re not alone in feeling like you are.


At the end of the day, whether it’s because of a world pandemic, a personal struggle, or just adult life being hard, we’ll all fall into a funk at some point. The key, though, is to avoid staying there. You do have control over finding ways to escape your funk, and they don’t have to break the bank. Still, if your funk is lasting a long time or if you’re just not getting out of it, don’t be afraid to seek professional help as well.

Life is hard, and we all struggle from time to time. Still, life is also beautiful, and you owe it to yourself to feel that beauty again. Pulling yourself out of a rut or a funk and getting back to feeling fabulous takes work. Still, I hope that you find the strength to do just that because, truly, you already are fabulous. You just need to believe it again.

For more inspiration, please join me over on Instagram or check out my motivational poetry on Amazon under L.A. Henry.




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This shirt is too sparkly. This one is too bright.
That magazine article said hot pink lips aren’t appropriate for my age at the office.
These braids look a little crazy.
I can’t wear eye shadow with that much glitter.
Winged eyeliner looks like I’m trying too hard.
I love those heels, but they make me look unprofessional.
That leather jacket makes me look too goth.
Jeans with holes? I can’t.

There’s no better place to realize how many limitations we put on ourselves as women as in our own closets. How many times have you really wanted to wear something but worried what others would think? How many times have you wondered if you’re “too old” for something or “not that kind of person” to wear that piece you love?

The thing is, if it was just about wardrobes, maybe we would be okay. But for so many women, these fears of being “too much” creep into all other aspects of our lives. 

We worry they’ll think we’re too bossy in our meeting because we spoke up.
We worry they’ll think we’re too mean if we say “no.”
We worry they’ll think we’re too boyish if we skip the makeup.
We worry they’ll think we’re too boring if we live a simple life.

As women, I find we’re always worried about being “too” something or other.

Too loud. Too passive. Too assertive. Too sexy. Too fat. Too thin. Too smart. Too uneducated. Too busy. Too calm. Too– you fill in the blank.

It’s not our faults, not really. From the time we’re young, we’re primed for this “too” battle. We’re taught in so many ways that as women, we need to be careful. We don’t want to be perceived as mean or bossy or loud or rude. We’re taught to follow the rules always, and never seem like a “bad girl.” 

Rules are good. Kindness is good. But sometimes, what others think of us becomes so engrained in our personalities, we lose who we really are. We spend more time in other people’s heads trying to see ourselves that we stop hearing our inner selves. I think that’s where the problem is.

So this week, I hope you really stop thinking about being “too” whatever your word is. I hope you show kindness and grace in the world, but I hope you know you are more than just that. You are exactly who you are supposed to be. You love exactly what you are supposed to love. I hope you find the courage to show the world that, even if they aren’t ready to hear it yet–because I’m ready. You’re ready. So many women are ready to see real, genuine women. 

Let’s show the world what we’ve got.

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This hardship that you’re going through, whatever it might be–I want you to know that you will overcome it, and you’ll be okay on the other side.

I know, it sounds like some cheesy garbage that motivational speakers write just to get clicks. It sounds like it lacks substance or is ingenuine. Admittedly, many times in my life, I’ve rolled my eyes at posts like this. Because when you’re in the middle of a hardship, let’s face it. No one feels like it’s happening for a reason or that it’s making you stronger. It just sucks.

Still, I stand behind that first paragraph because it’s true. It really is. I stand here before you as someone who has come out the other side of some tough years and can honestly say even though I didn’t think it would all be okay, it is. Better than okay, even.

We all have our own struggles on our journey. This isn’t a post to compare those struggles. Some certainly have more difficult stories than ours, and some have seemingly “easier” ones. We all suffer through our own hardships in our own ways. They change us. They break us. They threaten our confidence.

Our struggles started in 2019 when my husband lost his job of ten years due to a furlough. Suddenly, the life of security and stability we had grown accustomed to was ripped out from under us. We’d done all the things we were supposed to do. We’d lived safely. We had grown complacent in our lives, looking back, because we thought our stability was untouchable.

Then, my husband got furloughed. We told ourselves it would be fine. It would be a few months of regrouping. It might have been. But then something called COVID hit the world, and everything sort of stopped. 


It was a long journey over the next few years. What we thought would be a couple months of job searching for him to find his new place in the workforce took several years, several different jobs, and several different periods of asking: Who am I now?  He went through a struggle trying to figure out who he was now that his career he thought he’d have forever was gone. As any job loss is, it was stressful and filled with anxiety that was compounded by the world pandemic constantly adding to the uncertainty. It was a long road.

In the middle of it all, my beloved mastiff, Henry, my best friend, got sick and passed in 2021. My world shattered. I know he was “just a dog” to some, but to me, he was my rock. He was there for all of our firsts—first houses, first jobs, first holidays in our house. He was there during all of our crumbling moments–the lost job, the world pandemic, the fear. He was just always there. 

And then he wasn’t. I was devastated.

There were many dark moments after he was gone, and there were hard times even after my new best friend, Edmund, came into the picture. The thing is–things were different, the whole way around. Chad was finding himself after losing his job of ten years. I was finding myself after losing my best friend. We were both trying to adjust to a life that felt unstable thanks to COVID and just because of the sheer realization that at any moment, your carefully laid out plans could be changed. 

Still, we stand here now, almost three years after that devastating job loss that triggered several years of change, to tell you: it’s going to be okay. Because it was. Through the hard times, we learned so much.

We learned that sometimes change is good. Yes, there were times we mourned for the stable simplicity of our past life. We yearned for it. But we both have changed so much these past few years and have learned that change isn’t a bad thing. Our lives look different now. He has a new job which he loves more than his first one–like really, truly loves. And I still miss Henry, but I have a new best friend who challenges me in completely new ways. He pushes me to be more patient, understanding, and to be a better dog trainer. We've both learned not to take the simple, calm days for granted. We've both learned what really matters and how financial peace of mind is one of the best gifts you can work towards for yourself. We learned, though, that even in years of just getting by, our love and relationship was still strong.

We learned that change is uncomfortable, and that’s okay. The hard times really do force you to figure out who you are, what makes you happy, and what parts of your old life maybe were holding you back. We are both so much more confident in who we are and what we want now. We’ve found peace with the fact that life is unpredictable. Jobs change. The people around you change. But who you are at your core doesn’t, and hopefully, who you are as a couple doesn't, either.

Hardship is, as the name implies….hard. It doesn’t matter what that hardship is, either. It can be a lost job, a lost family member, or a loss of passion. It can simply be feeling like you’re drowning in to-do lists or the hardship of losing sight of who you are. It can be health issues or a broken car or just one little thing after the other. The thing I’ve come to understand is, big or small, we’re all handling hardship in some way. Because of that, it can be so easy to want to throw in the towel, to say that adult life sucks, and that there is no joy.

But I hope today, you hang in there. I hope you know that even if you can’t see it now, there will be a day when you stand on the other side of these days, weeks, months, or even years, and you breathe in easily. You’ll be able to see how much you’ve evolved, how you have strengthened, and how you have a whole new perspective. You’ll still mourn for the “easier” times sometimes. You’ll still wonder what would’ve happened if things didn’t fall apart.

But I promise you…you’ll also be able to see that there is beauty in every single choice on your life path, whether you make the choice or not. There is something to be learned, something to be gained, always. It just takes time.

Sometimes change is hard. Sometimes we don’t want to. Sometimes life makes us.

Still, change, when it’s all said and done, can be a beautiful thing you didn’t even know you wanted.

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I fought back tears as I stared at the 30 candles on my birthday cake. Turning 30 felt like a horrifying milestone I had wanted to avoid because I had bought into society's lies for so long: that a woman's 20s are her prime and that she should have everything, everything, everything sorted out by 30.

In some ways, the 30 lie didn't hold up. As I entered the new decade, I realized that there were some beautiful things about the age. I didn't care as much about what people thought of me, and I was closer to sorting out who I was and what made me happy. Still, there were aspects about turning 30 that didn't sit well.

In my 30s, it feels like if I think about food, I pack on weight. Gone were the days of my 20s when I could eat anything I wanted, sleep all day, and still have the perfect waistline. Also, I'm at that age where if I wake up without a random body part hurting, it's a good day.  I've found myself at an age where I'm too young to completely transform into the little old lady knitting with her cats but too old to go clubbing or understand the new lingo all about (Cap? What?).

In many ways, the idea that my 20s were my prime feels somewhat true.

However, these past couple of weeks, I've challenged that notion thanks to an unexpected influence: Selling Sunset. Unless you've been living under a rock, I'm sure you've seen at least clips of the real estate show that's taken Netflix by storm.

I'll be honest: I tried to watch it a few months ago and hated it. Why would I want to watch glamorous people from California sell immaculate, insanely priced mansions I would never afford or even particularly want? Still, the easy pace of summer called me in, and I found once I got through episode one, I was hooked.

I know what you're thinking: a reality show? Really? That's the secret to overcoming your slump in your 30s? And I'll admit, it seems like an unlikely, unworthy candidate for inspiration. After all, it is a reality show, a phrase most Americans utter with condescending scorn even though behind their closed curtains, they secretly can't stop watching. And admittedly, the show has a lot of negative influences that certainly don't foster positivity. There's a lot of cattiness, drama, and rude behavior that makes for good viewing and not good character. Add to that the superficiality of the show to an extent (Does anyone need to have that fancy of a dinner? That baby shower probably cost more than ten of my houses, etc), and you have a recipe for a horrible thing to base your self-worth off of.

Still, behind the luxurious mansions and over-the-top outfits that many of us tune in for, I think there's also a message that I found inspiring. The women in the show are boss babes in their own right. Love them or hate them, they all are selling their way to independence, to the top of their careers, and to success. And what I find to be most interesting is that these aren't women in their 20s. They are largely women in their 30s and even 40s. 

Watching women who are supposedly "past their prime" be anything but was the kick in the pants I needed to get out of my 30s blues. I know, I know. Some of you are arguing that certainly no one could be past their prime if they had millions to spend on couture clothes, Botox, and personal trainers. Still, putting the money aside, the fact that these women in their 30s and 40s are owning their lives, the screens, and their confidence is something positive to take away from the "trashy reality" show. 

Sure, I might not have millions in expendable income. I might not have anywhere in my life that warrants wearing a dress Beyonce once wore. I might not have the expensive makeup or swimming pool or any of the things they do. Still, there is one thing I can have that doesn't cost a thing: confidence. 

Society tells us that your 20s are your time to be the "it" girl in your life, to be the woman everyone is watching. But I think that's a lie. Despite the slowing metabolism and random back aches, I think your 30s can be exactly that, too, if you make up your mind to own it.  So can your 40s, 60s, 70s, 100s. Truly. It's a decision we all make to own our lives, no matter what that looks like.

I think, too, you can achieve this confidence and status without having millions. It isn't about couture looks or perfect makeup. It's about finding what makes you feel like a boss babe. Maybe it's just getting a single new outfit from T.J. Maxx (sorry, not sorry, Christine, yes, I do love T.J. Maxx). Maybe it's getting that $2 red lipstick that makes you feel bomb. Maybe it's just in the way you walk or in looking in the mirror and telling yourself you're a "bad bitch" and wiping away the tears. 

It might seem stupid to get a confidence boost from a reality show on Netflix. But I think what's even more ridiculous is that as women, we let the number of candles on our cake influence how we feel. We let the decade we're in quiet us down. We let our age dictate how far into the background we think we should fall. 

I think it's time we all find our inner Christine (minus the meanness), Crishell, Heather, or Amanza and realize we're all capable of being a boss babe--regardless of where we live, our bank accounts, how much our purse cost, or how many candles are on our cake.

You can do it all.

Variants of this inspirational quote adorn throw pillows, Instagram graphics, and T-shirts. At first glance, the sentiment is admirable and even motivational. As a big dreamer, I think it’s healthy to remove mental blocks and limitations. I hope everyone can find the courage to strive for their wildest dreams. Nonetheless, I also think if we do a deep dive, this sentiment can be dangerous to your overall dreams and fulfillment.

I do believe you can do it all…but you shouldn’t.

The problem with this quote is that without us realizing, it seeps into our daily lives and poisons our fulfillment. What’s meant to inspire us to dream big actually chains us down to a life of monotony and lists. 

We think we should have a home worthy of a magazine AND be the best mother AND the kind of friend who does weekly brunches AND surprise our husbands with romantic date nights AND climb the social ladder AND master how to make perfect enchiladas everyone will love AND do glam makeup everyday AND have mastered silky, shiny hair AND have a hair free body every single day AND do an hour of pilates five times a week AND make sure all the appointments are made AND be spiritually enlightened.

AND AND AND.

We think we should do it all because we can.

The list is never-ending. We run through a rat race believing there is something wrong with us when we are crying in our imperfect bathroom that isn’t spa-like as we think about how tired we are–and how we are failing. We can do it all. It’s clearly us that’s the problem. We must be too stupid or too clumsy or too disorganized or too lazy. Our lives should look effortlessly perfect like we see on social media and from celebrities and from the moms at school pickup. We can do it all if we want to–and so we convince ourselves we want to. We tell ourselves we have to. We dig deep, wipe away the mascara staining our cheeks, and we throw ourselves at the merciless to-do lists once more.

The need to do it all is an inferno we cannot escape once we let it infiltrate our lives. On our relaxation days, we look around and see all the things that aren’t quite right, all the to-dos. Instead of soaking in the sunshine, we look at how the deck chairs need washed. When we’re spending quality time with the kids or the dog, we think about how we really should be taking those perfect photographs to get made into that scrapbook we’ll do someday. We shame ourselves for caving and eating fast food and running out of energy to do our insanely rigid workout schedule. We scorn as we look in the mirror because we didn’t use enough self-tanner and we missed a spot shaving and our eye shadow is lackluster.  We are hard on ourselves and see every missed item on our list as a failure.

We critique. We critique some more. We try to do more because we think that’s the problem.

And eventually, all of that “do anything” attitude becomes a life of monotony, a life missing passion, excitement, and happiness. We wake up in our lives that still don’t have everything mastered and feel inadequate, unfulfilled, and like failures, yet we keep trudging along on the hamster wheel that is quickly spinning of its axis.

Thus, the thing I think we need to talk about is this: yes, you might be strong, powerful, and smart enough to do it all. Still, that doesn’t mean you should.

Doing it all leaves you depleted. You have finite energy, and if you try to master everything at once, you just do a little bit of everything half-assed. 

More importantly, trying to do it all is a fool’s errand. No one, no one, no one does it all alone and well. 

No one has perfect, spotless baseboards and clean sinks while trying to work full-time.

No one has a perfect body while running the kids to seventeen activities, managing a stressful work schedule, and cooking dinner every night.

No one has magazine-worthy hair, makeup, and outfits while being a hands-on mother and making sure the appointments are all made.

No one has celebrity-worthy interior design, meals, bodies, makeup, outfits, bank accounts, careers, vacations, and lives like social media wants you to believe.

In the real world, most of us are hanging by a thread. We have dirt on the baseboards, we fed our families ham sandwiches while forgetting the dentist appointment and trying to get to work on time. 

We are cleaning up cat barf while trying to put on a swipe of mascara and blot away some of the grease in our hair as we wolf down a yogurt we hope is healthy.

We are trying to iron the pants for the school play while ignoring the layer of dust on all of the surfaces in the house and hoping the squats we did while brushing our teeth count as a workout.

We are hoping no one knocks on our door as a surprise visitor because it’s Thursday and we barely made it through the work week let alone picked up a single item strewn about the house.

We’re all hanging by a thread. We’re all trying to do everything–and realizing we’re not doing it well.

I think the problem is this, though. I think the problem is we all are keeping up the ruse that it’s possible to do it all. We’re all clinging to that “can do” attitude and smiling through as if we’re not all exhausted. We’re swiping the dust away and hiding the remnants of our life in shambles. We’re getting it together just enough to convince everyone around us that we’re doing it all effortlessly. We’re convincing ourselves and our friends that yes, of course we wash the sheets every few days and manicure the lawn and make sure the kids are eating only organic food. We pretend we’re not all dying inside trying to wear fifty hats instead of just the ones we want.

We convince ourselves that the world is going to fall apart if we prioritize and let some things go. We tell ourselves we’re being lazy when we want to relax instead of tackling the window washing or the tax spreadsheet or the list of phone calls.

We keep up the facade that we’re happy doing all the things because that’s what we’ve been taught. Still, the “can do” attitude is a thief of happiness if you let it be.

So I propose that this week, we all take a deep breath and ignore the gunk from the dog on our kitchen wall or the crayon mark on the table. I propose we resist the urge to wear a full cut-crease eye look every day or iron the slightly wrinkly shirt. I propose we don’t feel guilty if we feed our families bags of chips and peanut butter for dinner or if our hair has been in a bun for a week straight. I propose we all take a breath, take a moment, and ask ourselves:

What really matters most?
Even though I can do all the things, what do I want to do?
What will make me feel successful?

Certainly, we all have to do things we don’t want to do. But that doesn’t mean we have to strive for impossible standards in all areas of our life. There are seasons for everything. Seasons to work on our killer body, and seasons to cut back to maintenance mode where a walk or chores counts. Seasons for killing it at work and letting the spring cleaning slide. Seasons where we serve all homemade meals, and seasons where cereal is a food group.

We have to learn to be okay with not doing it all and instead, doing all the things that feed our soul, that make us feel alive, and that remind us of who we are. We also have to accept that life ebbs and flows, and that it’s okay if our vision of perfect in one area morphs in the next season of our lives. 

Furthermore, we need to remember that we can do it all–but we shouldn’t have to do it alone. We need to ask for help when we need it and find support systems. We need to be honest with our friends and co-workers and stop pretending this adult thing is easy. We need to stop showing up in the world as these extreme multi-taskers who are wearing a cracked smile over their dead–inside visage. 

We need to be brave enough as a society to say yes, we are kickass, powerful warriors who can do it all–but are smart enough not to. Who are intelligent enough to know that it isn’t sustainable to do all the things, isn’t fulfilling, and isn’t what this life is about. 

Thus, we need to change the quote in our minds to: we can do all the things that really matter most–and all the rest can wait.

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