In the In-Between

I like control. Actually, I used to like control. For much of my life, it served me well. In my childhood, my education, and my career, I liked knowing what “success” looked like, and then doing everything in my power to reach those pre-defined goals. Control meant predictable outcomes, and predictable outcomes meant I didn’t have to *feel* the tension of the in-between. The tension of the opposites. If I just did enough, worked enough, tried enough, then I could “control” – there was a lot I could DO to make things go well, to make sure things worked out. 

Since stepping away from the inherent structure a controlled life necessitates, I’ve had to become more comfortable in the messy middle, where “success” isn’t so clearly defined. Although I’m thankful this self-discovery journey has broadened my perspective on “how to do life”, I simultaneously have to acknowledge there are aspects of my world that feel more challenging now. I constantly have to remind myself that the opposite of control is surrender – and some days that’s harder to embrace than others. 

Today is one of those days. 

Post-Unwinding Perfect and pre-(insert “whatever is next” here), I’m in the messy middle, the in-between, a stage full of unknowns. My heart knows this is where so much of the magic happens – where open space allows creativity and big thinking to converge to grow something new, something uniquely mine. But on days like today, my brain hasn’t caught up. It’s still working to break free of the decades-long conditioning that structure, goal-setting, and pushing through, is what creates success. I have to de-program the thinking that in order to reach “real” goals, you have to control every step of the process, from beginning to end. 

I’m learning to live my life without expecting to be in control, which allows for flow and opportunities that may be missed otherwise. I’m moving through this in-between open to change and the unique kind of evolution that only comes from surrendering control. And on days like today when it feels hard, and my heart needs my brain to remember, I will remind myself: 

I can embrace the unknown, and surrender control.

I can make a plan, but also accept I am not in control. 

I can build, design, and grow comfortably, even through surrender. 

I am free to run with new ideas, without knowing exactly what the future holds. 

It matters to be, not just do. 

By seceding control, I am open to new people, new work, and new feelings in ways that simply were not possible before. We will see what’s on the other side of this in-between, this tension of the opposites – but my inner knowing, the voice that keeps propelling me forward, tells me it will be something magical.

Now! An Impetuous Superpower

One of my superpowers is driving projects and initiatives forward. You say go, I go.  I don’t stop until the project is complete or goals are met. Some call me impetuous. I call it effective.

This serves me extremely well, much of the time. While sometimes considered impetuous by my methodical and calculated  peers, my quick to action decision making allows for fast progress, something necessary in a high-growth company. My belief - inform decisions with the data at hand, then make a fast decision from a place of inner-knowing and  intuition. You can always course correct later if need-be. 

In personality assessments, I am always the driver or motivator, often the force preventing failure to launch. Just this last week I was part of an Insights Discovery workshop that showed I have strong red (a combo of extroversion and thinking) and yellow (a combo of positivity, enthusiasm, and creativity) preferences. The way I show up in the world consciously and subconsciously are as a Directing Motivator and an Inspiring Motivator, respectively.Which is fitting, because there is not much more that I love than working with a team to execute against goals.

Some of my strengths came back as: can generate fast results by prioritizing well and taking action, is opportunistic, original, spontaneous, and versatile, will drive others to achieve greater things, and will lead by fighting alongside the troops in the trenches.

And some of the suggestions for development included more time dedicated to analyzing my thoughts and feelings, accepting that decisions based on solid analysis are more reliable than intuition alone, and thinking very carefully before rushing into action.

This last one. Thinking very carefully before rushing into action…

Last Monday, April 22, I launched my first book, Unwinding Perfect: One Woman’s Story of Reclamation, into the world. 

I did it in very typical Christine fashion - without much analysis or consideration for some of the potential fallouts.  In many ways, this was necessary for me to step forward into this next chapter of me.  Had I overly thought about birthing a memoir into the world, I may have had a failure to launch. Had I completely considered potential feelings and emotions I might experience, I probably would have stayed private.

Writing the book was one thing - cathartic and healing, it allowed me to process decades of emotions and behaviors that had led up to that moment. Releasing it into the world was a whole other thing - it would have been much easier not to, but somewhere, deep inside me, this inner knowing kept saying you have to put this book out to the world. Because I operate so much from intuition and have worked so hard to surrender control and release fear, I knew I had to listen. Ultimately, it was easier for me to trust my gut without contemplating potential fall-out because I didn’t want to be persuaded not to launch the book.

Once April 22 was chosen as the release date, I went into Christine mode. I created marketing and communications strategies and met with other authors and entrepreneurs to talk about ways to accelerate messaging. I learned Instagram (kind of, a whole other beast that I am slowly warming to). And I launched Unwinding Perfect in a tactical and strategic way. 

The first day Unwinding Perfect was available, it became a #1 best seller across multiple categories, and I became a bestselling author, an accomplishment I had never dreamed until recently. I went to bed Monday night excited, high on the wave of celebration and accomplishment, only to wake Tuesday morning with a rock in my stomach. The elation was gone, and in its place was trepidation, doubt and exhaustion. I wanted to crawl back in bed, hide under my comforter and never come out.

This book was a new baby and I had birthed it into the world. I had created something so far outside the scope of what I knew professionally, and the emotions that came with it were almost unbearable. I was depleted - emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I longed to be held, comforted by someone else’s strength. I was open to receiving and was done being the strong one.

“What have I done,” repeated over and over in my head. While I didn’t feel regret about the book, and I kept grounding in my truth that this book was written for anyone seeking more in their life, I began to feel some of the emotions I probably should have considered pre-launch. 

While my ex and I had talked about the book and I had shared some of it with him, I was concerned about how he was feeling that day. Also, in the book, I discuss some of my parent’s personality traits, and I was worried specifically about my mom and how she felt.  I was less concerned about how the book was received because speaking your truth is never wrong, but I couldn’t help but feel something had forever shifted.

I started to get messages from friends saying I was brave and courageous, but I didn't feel brave. In fact, I started to wonder what was wrong with me for even considering sharing such a personal introspection into my heart. If other people were telling me they would never do this, why was I?

Later that day, when I shared this sentiment with my publisher, Samantha Joy from Landon Hail Press, she shared some sage advice. She said, “Christine, this is totally normal if you’ve been used to hiding, or doing what others request of you, or what makes them comfortable. You are not crazy, you’re just on a new level, willing to go for what you want and what is true for you. Remember that you can never mess up the truth, be patient for all the rewards that come in.”

I sat with that, and allowed myself a new way to process what I was feeling. Yes, I can be impetuous at times. And yes, I may not always fully analyze potential outcomes. Maybe I do rush into action. But had I not, I also most likely would not have released this book. I allowed myself grace and I embraced my shadows. I remembered how my quick decision making served the business I helped build and served as co-CEO of. And once again I learned to accept me, all of me.

As I sit and write this blog one-week post launch, I’m more settled, less depleted. My mom has given me kind feedback, and I’m hopeful she finds growth through this too. She wrote to me, “As you said at the end [of the book], a little difficult for your family to read, but all very true about us! I’ve learned a little about myself reading it, as you are me in so many ways. Ways that I saw as strong and as being a team player, but realizing I probably lost myself decades ago.”

It is in the polarity of these emotions that I rejoice. Shadows and light. I’m heartbroken that she lost some of herself, but also hopeful because it is never too late for her to begin her journey of self-discovery. If I can help be the catalyst for that, then I have succeeded in my journey.

So while I recognize I am impetuous and often rush into action, sometimes making others uncomfortable, I embrace it as my superpower. It has made me who I am and I celebrate each decision because they led me here today.

Reclamation of…Me

Life has a funny way of coming full circle. Rather, life has a funny way of ensuring the lessons you are meant to learn in this lifetime are learned. And throwing that lesson back up in your face just to check that it's been learned.

When I began to open my mind to the idea of conscious living and conscious creation, I became much more aware of the synchronicities of life. The tiny miracles that happen daily that I previously brushed off as a mere coincidence; those miracles now have profound meaning and represent much more than a chance encounter.

In doing so, by opening my mind to the introspection and reflection that inherently comes with consciously living and seeking more, I began to unwind subconscious patterning that was holding me back from stepping into the truest form of Me (a life-long journey, one I am far from the pinnacle of). 

Forty plus years of people pleasing, being easy going and not rocking the boat - being smart, but not too smart; having an opinion, but acquiescing if tension or conflict arose - allowed me to shapeshift and fit-in in just about any circumstance. The consummate question asker, I deflected attention from myself and ensured the people I was around felt seen, heard, and ultimately, loved. I did this with complete sincerity. I love hard and am generous with my love, and know with every bone in my body love is not a scarcity.

One of the greatest lessons I have had to learn over the past couple of years, and one that keeps showing back up as a test, is that people-pleasing does not equal love. I thought that through self-sacrifice, by keeping peace and not hurting feelings, I was demonstrating love; that by preventing conflict, hurt feelings, and potentially loss, I was showing up for the people in my life. The opposite could not be more true.

Instead, I was lying. I didn’t know it, and it wasn’t malicious. But it was still lying.

Now I understand that pleasing is ego. Anytime I did something that went against my inner knowing or a gut feeling, I was abandoning myself, and essentially lying to the recipient. It seemed better to sacrifice myself than to hurt feelings or risk abandonment. Slowly, I began to realize how this behavior was unfair to me and my loved ones. It didn’t serve me, and it didn’t serve those around me. When I began to eventually set boundaries, it created conflict with people I love most in my life. From family to friends, I started making everyone uncomfortable.  

Even myself sometimes.

As I began showing up for myself more and more, things shifted. Yes, hard decisions were made, and yes, there was loss. But it also allowed for the new to enter, which included friends, opportunities, and growth that could not have happened otherwise. The reclaimed and more authentic me was energetically attracting more aligned matches.

Then, the universe would test me by sending me someone or something to see just how I might respond. Sometimes I passed. Often I failed. But what was different was my awareness and how I processed the situations. Where I would have stayed before, I moved on quickly. Where I would have ruminated, I let go. And where I would have had fear, I surrendered.

As I began to unwind the generational patterning and conditioning ingrained in me from my childhood, I began writing again. I filled journals with my thoughts, writing long-form thought pieces about the emotions I was allowing myself to feel after compartmentalizing them most of my life.  A book began to pour out of me.

This book, Unwinding Perfect, is a memoir that dives deep into my early motivators and ultimately the self-discovery work I did to reprogram much of my childhood conditioning. The relationships and bonds I had as a child were instrumental in developing the young woman I became, and ultimately, the life choices I made. I was forever seeking external validation because inside me, I had little idea who I truly was, what I stood for, or how to confidently create boundaries. So, I sought to achieve. By achieving, I received accolades, success, and wealth. This became my identity and helped fill the void of lack of self.

Recently, months after the manuscript had been turned in and the foundation of Unwinding Perfect was laid, I’ve experienced new realizations and awareness. Mostly that I understand and now accept  I am a complex, multifaceted individual who previously was never quite sure in my own skin. Sometimes, I was “too much.” Sometimes, “too intense.” Today, I worry less if people accept me or want to be around me. I am comfortable with my shadows and embrace them, and no longer worry how people receive me. I accept myself. I give my love to those who are able to return it, and I hold space and grace for those who can’t.

Truth be told, it would be much easier not to put this book out – to not expose my inner workings, my insecurities, my fears. After all, it opens me up to judgment and criticism, and allows space for people to point fingers. No doubt my message will fall flat with some, and people may talk poorly about me. 

But this book isn’t for those people. I stay grounded in my truth that this book is for anyone who is not yet comfortable in their authentic self. This book is for those willing to be open, receptive, and to explore the depths of their inner workings. I want everyone to know that they do not need permission to prioritize themselves; nor do they need permission to embark on a journey of self-discovery. 

That if I can embrace this journey, so can anyone else.

The “WHY” Behind Unwinding Perfect

The Why

A couple years ago, I began making courageous decisions, albeit I didn’t know they were courageous at the time.  I’m sure some considered them unthinkable, and sometimes, I did too. In spite of seemingly “having it all” – a successful career, co-leading a thriving health tech company that was transforming lives and communities, an almost sixteen-year marriage, and two beautiful children – I finally listened to the voice inside nudging me, telling me there was a different path; a path filled with deeper connections, an abundance of opportunities, and fulfillment of my life’s purpose.

It was time for me to step into my full authenticity, a move that ultimately meant leaving much of my seemingly perfect life behind and unraveling the childhood conditioning and generational patterning that had brought much of the outward success. I had checked many boxes, and garnered personal and professional accomplishments (and accolades) that my younger self could only have dreamt of. But these things were no longer serving me in the ways I had hoped. While I didn’t fully understand it yet, it was becoming increasingly more clear that this life which offered much material success was built upon a tireless pursuit of perfection. Subconsciously living and running from one thing to the next, learned behaviors from my childhood were stopping me from embracing the full spectrum of who I was and what my true life’s purpose was. This was no longer good enough for me. ​ It was time to take the reins and reclaim the woman I had suppressed for so long.

At times, my choices have put me on a path that has been lonely and heartbreaking, but they have also required me to be brave and bold in ways I didn’t know were possible. I believe both experiences are necessary to gain clarity and perspective, and I’m eager to share these hard-earned, yet beautiful realizations with the world. On April 22, I will be releasing my first book, Unwinding Perfect, where I share my journey, the intense and fruitful self-work that got me to where I currently am. My hope with this book is to help others recognize that the time is now to break free of one-size-fits-all expectations, unearth your true-self, embrace the fullness of who you are, replace fear with vulnerability, and stand confidently in your unique power.

How I Got Here

While I grew up in a home teeming with love, like so many of us, I was also conditioned by years of well-intentioned childhood patterning. Intuiting learned behaviors from both of my parents, as well as recognizing what behaviors made me feel “love” from my family, created a persona that I took with me into adulthood. This resulted in a pursuit of perfectionism in nearly every aspect of my life, often chasing success defined by society standards. I did it well, yet all of the success did not fill me the way I had thought it would, and I realized these realities were actually holding me back from the life I dreamed of and deserved. Breaking free from lifelong patterns and generational programming was terrifying, but it prompted worthwhile change.

I began to create a new definition of success, one in alignment with my inner knowing; one that could fuse materiality and spirituality. I still desired ambition, but this time it was different; I began to care less about outward success and more about uncovering my individuality, my truth and ultimately, showing up as my most authentic self. This may sound like a straightforward process, but it was anything but. The pressure for validation from others is tremendous – especially for generations of women whose lives have been built around meeting external measures of success. Women have been told that if they work hard, get married, and have children – and do it perfectly enough – they can have it all. But so many of us still feel empty inside, losing sight of our actual selves and purpose. I knew that reclaiming who I was would be challenging, but I also understood that my heart had to break in order to rebuild and pave the path toward genuine joy and fulfillment.

Anchoring In Who You Are

I believe strongly that no matter who you are, or where you might be along your own path, it’s time to stop the pursuit of check listed society standards and begin to write your own.

Doing this takes courage, but when you replace fear with vulnerability, you can disarm the hold that fear has over your life. Stepping into this change means that fear will no longer hold power over you or hold you back from your true power. This shift begins when you can stop looking outward and turn inward to build your life from the self up.

The best part is you don’t need permission from anyone to do this- you already have it. And this inner power isn’t something you need to cultivate- it’s already there, within you. By quieting your mind, sitting in silence, and focused practice, you can begin to remember who you innately are. When you can deepen into this truth, you deepen into your inherent wholeness, and realize all you could possibly desire already exists inside of you. No doubt hard days will still come, but embracing the full you is something you can return to time and time again. There is immense peace in the acceptance of both your bright and dark sides, and knowing that you, wholly, imperfectly, are enough.

Stepping into your power and embracing all of who you are is critical, but it doesn’t stop there. The ultimate goal is freedom. For me, this comes from living a life fully anchored in my true self, from a place of genuine self-alignment. While this continues to take practice and focus daily, each day it becomes more and more natural. When we anchor to our most authentic self, we build deeper connections and create more meaning and purpose for ourselves, our lives and those around us.

The Invitation

Unwinding Perfect is an invitation for anyone who isn’t yet comfortable in their authentic self to understand these truths more fully, prioritize the self and embark on a journey of inner-discovery. Writing Unwinding Perfect was an incredible process of catharsis for me, but I knew I wanted to still do more, and continue to help transform lives and communities in a myriad of ways. This year, I founded co-foundHer, a boutique advisory firm specific to entrepreneurs on a path to profit and enlightenment. co-foundHer supports the integration of the material and higher-self, bringing balance to entrepreneurs and founders intent on stepping into their fullest potential.

If there is one thing I hope people take away from my message and my work, it is this unwavering truth: you are Enough. If you have an inner voice nudging you that there might be something more, there is. And everything you need to step into the life you desire and deserve is already within you.

Putting Words Around 2023

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice.” T.S. Eliot

Last year’s words:

Sorrow, despair, pain, hurt, fear, longing, anguish, doubt, anger, tears. Lots and lots of tears.

Strength, power, beauty, growth, pride, intuition, transformation, self- trust, self-love. 

It’s New Year’s Day 2024, and I feel the need to put words around 2023 and what it meant to me. In all of my 44 years in this body, never have I had such a transformative year. 2023 was a year of loss, transition, and change. Literally, one year ago today, I drove away from our family home with my two children and spent our first night in the Tiny House, a small rental I had found for the kids and I until our new house would be ready. Then, four months after that, I decided to step away from the healthcare technology business I had helped build since November of 2015. In the first four months of 2023, I went from having a spouse and a family unit, along with an impressive job title and a business I loved, to being completely alone 50% of the time.

The fear and anxiety that crept in at times was almost debilitating. The pain of not being with my children 100% of the time and feeling like I had failed them as a mom brought me to my knees sobbing countless times. I was consumed by doubt about my decisions, loneliness of solo nights, and the pain I allowed myself to finally feel. It was heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, and hands down the hardest thing I have ever been through.

But it was important that I went through it, that I didn’t try to escape it. 

Despite being a shell of myself, my practical head was rushing me to find work, running into overdrive worrying about my future stability and comfort, wrought with fear about things I needn’t yet worry about.

You need to figure out your next career move ASAP. 

What if you can’t afford the house you’re planning to live in with your kids. 

You are going to lose your “edge” being out of your co-CEO role for too long. 

My gut and my heart were trying to tell me it was okay; to rest, sit with it, be still. That I was okay exactly where I was at that moment and that I didn’t need to rush into my next move.

That experience – the discordance of my head and heart – opened my eyes to two things: 1) how deeply rooted (and unhealthy) my familial patterning is, and 2) how I had allowed my brain to overtake my heart and guttural instincts for a very long time. It was at this time that I realized I had so much more work to do on myself before I was ready for anything close to a new career move, or even more unimaginable…dating. 

And so I sat. I sat in stillness, in meditation. I rested, and I recuperated. I began to heal years of fight/flight/freeze vagal responses, and allowed my nervous system to reset. I took my dogs on long walks. I began regularly exercising again, something I have always loved but had not prioritized for years. 

Slowly, I became more present. I let go of my fear of the future and began to live in the now. Small fissures in the darkness slowly began to let light in. And through that light, I began to heal.

What’s laughable now is that I had given myself four weeks to rest, recuperate, and recover after I resigned from the business. At the time, four weeks felt excessive. But today, I don’t even recognize that same woman and can’t begin to imagine what she was thinking. At that time, I had no idea that I would spend the rest of the 2023 year examining and rebuilding my entire life. 

It was close to six months before I felt remotely ready to resurface back into the world in any way. Towards the end of June, I started to come out of my shell and slowly integrate back in with trusted, lifelong friends. 

The kids and I took a trip to Boston to see my best girlfriend and spend a long weekend with her family at their lake house. I spent the 4th of July with another best girlfriend and her husband in Stillwater, Minnesota, visiting her home for the first time even though she has lived there for over ten years. I took roadtrips with my kids, I took trips with friends, and my mom and I spent ten days in France for our 44th and 74th birthdays. It was beyond healing, and I am forever grateful to all of the wonderful people who supported me through this year

Through the stillness, through the pain, and through my now much more empty days, I began writing again. I filled journals with my sorrow, but also with my hope and excitement for the lessons I was learning. And then, and I don’t even know why, I started writing blog-like content. 

As I wrote, a long-lost enthusiasm for life began to rekindle inside me, and, after much prompting from a spiritual mentor and friend, a book began pouring out of me. In all honesty, I didn’t even know what I had written most of the time. It was like I would go into a trance each day I wrote, and my fingers filled the pages with the words spilling from my heart. I loved the time spent, and remember thinking one day, “I could do this the rest of my life and be happy.” 

In addition to writing, I “did the work.” I know it sounds like a meme, but I saw a therapist regularly, I opened my heart to healers, and I allowed myself to unwind the generational patterning I had absorbed as a child. But just because I had become aware of my patterning doesn’t mean it went away. I still very much fell back into old habits and had to check myself frequently to make sure my heart and mind were in coherence. Because of this, my brain was still trying to tell me it was silly to write a book and that I needed to focus on finding a job or starting my own business. But my gut was telling me something else. 

So I asked for a sign one day if I was supposed to write this book. And no joke, just a couple days later, I got an email that said, “Have you ever wanted to write a book? Come meet bestselling author and publisher Samantha Joy.” Once my disbelief wore off, I knew this was the sign I had asked for. I went and I met Samantha Joy. 

Like me, Samantha had been in corporate America for a long time, very successful, but had an urge to do something else. She felt like there was a greater calling for her. So, she not only wrote a book, she started her own publishing company. Samantha is a badass, fierce feminine, and I knew right then this was what I was supposed to be doing. 

The name of my book, Unwinding Perfect, came to me while I was in that first session with her. Right then and there, I bought the URL and committed to finishing the book. I engaged with Landon Hail Press, Samantha’s publishing company, after vetting a few other publishers, and we agreed to start edits and layout mid-October.

It surprisingly only took about eight weeks to write the book, and it was only after it was complete that I went back to read it. That is when I truly began to understand what I had created. It, in its best form, is a memoir-esque version of my journey to find my voice and to unwind the perfect exterior world I had created that left me feeling empty and alone. In a poorer form, it’s a self-help guide to anyone interested in learning ways to raise consciousness and connect more deeply with oneself. 

It’s terrifying to think about putting this out into the world. But I’m okay with whatever the outcome is. I’m excited to stretch myself, to do something new, and to create a new path for myself, so different from the corporate path I had journeyed the past twenty years. I could fail miserably, or I could be wildly successful. All is okay.

As I sit here today, January 1st, 2024, one year to the date from when I began up-ending my entire life, I am filled with gratitude, with joy, and with peace. I finally love the person I am, without conditions or critical self-talk. 2023 was a year of metamorphosis and life-changing choices that have led me on a path to happiness and contentment. I am far from healed, but I am healing. My journey will be lifelong. And I will continue to follow my heart, just as I did to write this blog and the others, to write Unwinding Perfect, and to put myself out there in the most vulnerable of ways. 

My greatest hope in doing so, is to encourage and inspire you to step into the life you desire and deserve.

From co-CEO to Cabbie

Be careful what you wish for…It will come true!

I can’t tell you how many times over the course of my career I would think about how nice it would be to just walk my dogs during the middle of the day. Or be forever present for my children so that I could be the one to drive, or pick-up, or host. Being a working mom pulls your heart and priorities in so many directions. When I was with my kids, I was thinking about work. When I was at work, I was thinking about my kids.

I also can’t remember a time when I wasn't employed. I started working when I was 14 and have maintained some type of job since then. Even on maternity leave with both of my babies, I was never really “off.” And to boot, the eight-year stress of building a business from the ground up left me feeling guilty about working so much and having less time for my kids. It also took a toll on the general health of my mind/body/spirit - the constant state of action with little to no down time. Ever.. It wasn’t until the last 6-12 months that I began recognizing my life needed a major reset.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved what I did. I loved building a business. I loved working with my business partners. I loved growing teams and mentoring employees. I loved the P&L (profit and loss statement) and the puzzle of it all. But my body, not so much. It had begun throwing out red alerts long before this last year. In 2017, I basically had a mullet because of hair loss from stress. And the grueling work weeks, extensive travel, and exhaustion of it all almost landed me in the hospital (or maybe even a psychiatric ward) by the end of 2019. I was a rat stuck in a rat race, running as fast as I could, with no safe way to break free of the pack. 

To be clear, no one was forcing me to do this. I did all of this by my own free will, by my constant need to prove my value by doing. I was completely unaware of the predicament I had put myself in, or the patterns I had learned as a young child that were now manifesting in my daily life. All I knew how to do was… do. 

Instead of a human being, I was a human doing…constantly in action, constantly checking things off of my ever-growing and never-ending list. I rushed from one event, meeting, workout, family dinner, sports game to the next - truly believing that by merely physically showing up, that was enough to prove how much I loved and cared for those around me. It was an utter and complete recipe for disaster.

Of course hindsight is 20/20 and a luxury we don’t have when we are in the moment. But something I am now learning that I do have in the moment is breath. Breath has become my best friend, my consistent regulator, my confidant. Through breathing (and lots and lots of studying), I am learning the ancient practice of wu wei. Wu wei, in its simplest form, means effortless action.

When my old pattern of doing sneakily shows up like a familiar friend, I often don’t even realize it’s taken over. It’s not until my brain has detailed out my every move for the next six-months, or I’ve busily outlined the business plan for my next venture, when I finally recognize what’s happening and think, “Awe shit, there my brain goes again.” But now, I bring awareness to these thoughts. I recognize them as the objects they are, and I breathe. Then, sometimes quickly, other times slowly, my mind quiets, and I’m able to return to the present. I remind myself I no longer need to “do.” It’s okay to just be. 

A beautiful thing about being present is the peace I have found. I no longer worry about the past or fear the future. I’m free to just be. I hear the birds sing now when I walk my dogs. I learn more about my kids when I’m taxiing them all over town (a privilege I will never take for granted). And I’ve let go – errrr, am letting go – of the need to control my future. By surrendering to my higher good, I’m confident my higher purpose will be revealed. No longer beholden to a system or pattern that doesn’t serve me, I’m free to create my new patterns. My new journey. 

I’m forever grateful for the many lessons learned over the past eight years in my career as a co-CEO and would make the same choices all over again if I could. But through reflection and growth, I can see a brighter pathway for myself, one that includes tranquility, joy, rest, and self-fulfillment.

The Tiny House

I woke up this morning like I do most mornings now: with two sweet Mini Labradoodles assailing my face with kisses and relentless pawing for more and more belly and ear rubs. My morning routine has changed substantially over the past several months – first with my move out of my family’s home into a very small, but cozy, rental home, and second with my retirement from Eon.

But unlike most mornings, as I was lazily making the four steps from my bedroom into the rest of the house (literally, the bathroom, family room, dining room, and kitchen are all right there), it dawned on me that I’ve been in the Tiny House for over six months now. And in that moment, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for my own space, gratitude for my continuing spiritual journey and growth, and gratitude for the peace I’m finally allowing myself to settle into.

When I initially moved out of our family home and into the Tiny House at the end of December, my personal life was fractured, and I was filled with guilt and doubt. Guilt because I knew this meant my children would never again have the luxury of a single family home or their two parents living together under one roof. And doubt because that’s all I had felt for the past several years about my decision to choose myself and pursue true happiness.

The last six months in this cozy little dwelling have been the most beautiful, messy, and painful months of my life. When I look back on the emotions I have allowed myself to feel and encounter, I’m filled with not only gratitude, but also with pride. 

For most of my life I have compartmentalized my feelings and my needs so that I could anticipate and meet the needs of the people in my life. The need to please at all costs stems from a childhood filled with lots of love, but also lots of chaos. Chaos that the little girl I was did not know how to process. And so, like most people in childhood, I learned coping mechanisms that have stayed with me my whole life. I taught myself behaviors that would control my role in the chaos and that would help me to feel safe within my family dynamic.

This role that I assumed as a child was both positive and negative. It became the underlying driver of my scholastic and career success – the need to have near perfect grades, the desire to be the best at anything I did, the grit and perseverance to become a successful business leader, and, most recently, co-leading a healthcare technology company that started as an idea and grew over eight years to be a best-in-class technology company that quite literally saves patients’ lives.

But this role I assumed as a young girl that led to so many outward successes and accomplishments is the same role that gave me a splintered sense of self. Because I was desperately trying to please everyone, to be the peacemaker, and to not create any of my own waves that would result in disappointment from my parents, I yielded my wants and desires and just did what I was expected to do. I became a chameleon that could easily fit into any situation. I liked whatever the person next to me liked. I adapted and reined-in chaos. I didn’t upset the apple cart; I steadied it. I was a pleaser.

I got good grades. I went to college. I got a job. I met a man. I married the man. We quickly had two kids. I continued to climb the corporate ladder. I kept the house clean and organized. I made sure our kids were involved in all the right things. I threw memorable social events and parties. And then, I sacrificed memories with family and friends to build a business. I worked 80 hours a week to prove I was valuable. I did and did and did and did…to the point of exhaustion. I was no longer a human being…I was a human doing. So much so, that I nearly broke in December of 2019, which then led to the beginning of my self-awareness and spiritual journey in early 2020. 

I’ll never forget how in my early thirties, one of my best girlfriends from college who was recently married, told me she didn’t want kids and wasn’t going to have any. I was floored. “But ...doesn't everyone get married and have kids?” I asked her. I was so programmed that the train of life just went forward without much consideration that I never stopped to consider that the train tracks might diverge or even take willful turns. I had spent so much of my life doing what I thought I was supposed to do, moving forward, that I never stopped and asked myself, “What do I REALLY want to do, and who am I REALLY?”

So six months later, after making the decision to move out of our family home and to leave a company that was like a third child to me, I’m sitting here in the Tiny House, contemplating this very question. Not in a manic or obsessive way, but in a way that is healthy and FEELS right to me. I meditate (a lot). I meet with my spiritual mentors regularly. I read. I walk my dogs (a lot!). I’m present with my kids (for the first time perhaps ever). And I write. I write A LOT. 

So while I still don’t know the answer to who I am or what I want to do, I’m listening. I’m open. I’m present. I’m free to find out. I no longer feel the obligations that used to drive my actions, my values, my worth. My north star now is me, and I know through me, anything is possible.

Divorce Identity and Loneliness

Almost six months ago, I basically upended my entire social structure when my husband and I decided to separate. Then, four months after that, it completely changed again when I resigned from a company I helped build and loved. I guess, “Go big or go home.”

First, I moved out of the home I shared with my husband and our two children and into a rental house. Ouch. That was tough. Like the most excruciating emotional pain you can imagine, knowing you’re feeling it because of your own actions. And inactions.

The heartbreak of moving out of a family home is something I wish for no one. We had been married over 15 years. Fifteen years of waking up together. Going to bed together. The constant of the kids’ voices and footsteps and movement. Day in, day out. Then…the sudden aloneness…the quietness…the stillness. The yearning for a squeeze from your kids before they go to bed. Being desperate to connect only to be let down by the mostly futile, quick, surface-level FaceTime chats.

I knew things would change socially too. We had built a life together. In our neighborhood, our community, with friends, and our children’s friends' families, we were always a couple, getting asked to do couple things. My ex is extremely extroverted and always up for a good time – the really funny and social kind of guy. I’m much more quiet, bordering on shy, and really only break out of my shell with the right combination of energy, people, and sleep.

So I wasn’t surprised when, pretty soon after we split, he got invited on a family trip to Florida with a few of our friends…and I didn’t. My feelings weren’t hurt. But I was sad. Sad because the reality was that I had spent the previous eight years building a business instead of true friendships. So when the time came for a multi-family beach trip, my phone didn’t ring.

I get it. I know my choices to prioritize my career often forced me to say “no” to social activities and not be as present in our friend group. That probably made me the overworked and overstressed wife who could be fun. Who used to be fun; but that side rarely showed up anymore.

As I began to prioritize the business, I slowly lost pieces of me. Some bad, some good. I lost the piece of me that was able to make time for friends and social activities. The piece that could imbibe and hang out late, only to get up the next day to do it all over again. I used to laugh. A lot. I used to have fun and could be silly with my kids. We would run around the kitchen island and dance and sing. Somewhere along the way…that all stopped.

As the stakes got higher with the business, so did my uptightness. I started drinking less (not a bad a thing), going to bed earlier (not a bad thing), waking up too early (became a bad thing), and filling voids from my marriage with work (definitely a bad thing). 60 to 80-hour work weeks became the norm, and I wore it like a badge. As a result, I lost my silly; I lost my lightheartedness.

Before kids, when it was just us, there was room for real, adult fun. We loved hard, laughed a lot, and partied with friends. But after kids, well, things changed. Crying, hungry babies came first, and slowly a crack in our relationship formed. After several years of not really addressing it, the fissure became the Grand Canyon.

We tried therapy…for a few sessions. I was over it after the therapist said that my biggest issues in the marriage were not my problem and something that only Josh could decide to address. I saw this as giving permission to my husband to continue behavior that deeply hurt me. We never found another therapist, and after that, I grieved the loss of our marriage during our marriage. So when we finally did split, it wasn’t the loss of my husband’s companionship that consumed me, but the loss of being with my children 100% of my days.

That killed me. The guilt is like none other. How badly did I screw them up? As two middle-schoolers, would they recover? Or crash during those rocky, early-teen years that are wrought with more complex emotions than their still-developing brains could process?

I remember texting a girlfriend one night, “Why did I choose to be away from my babies?!” (with sobbing emojis I’m sure). And her response was truly beautiful, “Aww Christine, you aren’t choosing not to see your children. You need to frame the choice differently: you are choosing happiness and freedom from a marriage that didn’t serve you and teaching your children that it's okay to walk away from a bad relationship.”

So as the weeks went by, slowly, and very painfully at first, I rode the ebbs and flows. Some more intense than others. But, they began to steady out, and we all just kind of fell into a rhythm. Fortunately, my ex and I get along really well and are very supportive of each other. We even went on spring break together in March.

But four months after separating, just as I was starting to get my footing in this “new normal,” I decided to resign from my business. After eight incredible years building what I affectionately referred to as my third baby, the company no longer needed co-CEO’s and, after much deliberation, I decided it was time for me to step into my second overture.

At first, I was on cloud nine. I was thrilled to have downtime – to wake up in the morning and slowly drink my coffee. Leisurely make the kids’ lunches and drop them off at school. All without showering and getting myself ready for the office. I even walked my dogs during the day! I was finally getting the much-needed downtime I had been craving for years.

And then…reality kicked in. Holy shit. The company had been my life. The people had been my community.  And now there was this massive, gaping void. Within a matter of four months, my entire life construct had vaporized. Where I once knew stability, where I once structured my weeks on kids’ schedules, countless meetings, hours reviewing financials, hiring plans, marketing…I now drift, a bit tetherless.

I find myself at this juncture. I’m not a wife. I’m not a co-CEO. I don’t get invited to vacations. And I don’t get invited to work meetings. I know this is one of those moments I’ll look back on and think, “Damn, the pain was worth it.” But the pain is real. I’m sad. I cried tonight. I went downstairs and clung to my 12-year-old daughter for comfort, who indulged me for a minute, and then returned to whatever it was she was doing.

If I were to rank 2023 so far, I’d give it a 10 on the 0-10 pain scale. But also, a 10 on the growth scale. And on the happy, let’s-do-this-again scale? A solid zero.

Retrospection Post Resignation

I had a call with a business mentor today to discuss my resignation from my former company. I’m so unclear about what to do next. It’s only been a couple weeks, but I feel panicked and out of sorts. I’m so used to go, go, going and I feel…unsettled…about not knowing what my next career move will be. 

My mentor challenged me to sit down, contemplate a couple questions, and write. Everyone has been telling me that I need to write lately, and maybe it’s time I heed the advice. He suggested I spend time thinking about what I care most about. 

I care about a lot of things. 

What I care most about are my kids. First and foremost. Raising good humans and well-adjusted adults has always been my priority and is especially so in this next chapter of our lives. I love them so very much, and I have always tried to do my best. But, until recently, my best didn’t always include being a present mom – both physically and mentally. So whatever happens over these next six years (that’s how much longer they will be in the house with me), I will be unapologetically present. Ideally, I will work during school hours on the weeks I have them, and then work longer hours when they are with Josh. 

Priority #1 and the thing I care most about: kids. Unfortunately, being a great mom doesn’t pay the bills.

My mentor also suggested I focus on answering these specific questions: 

1. What matters to me?

2. What do I like doing?

3. Where do I want to go?

What matters to me? 

Well, I’ve always cared passionately about socioeconomically disadvantaged children. And I have a business idea that I would like to build to close that gap and create equal opportunities for ALL children. It involves a platform that incentivizes parents to create new ways of accountability for their kids through academics, sports, educational endeavors, etc. I love the idea, but my gut tells me it’s more of a philanthropic endeavor meant for me to build in my 50’s.

I also care deeply about my spirituality. I care about having the time to access meditation and introspection, and contemplating the deeper meaning of my life and my purpose in humanity. I cherish any opportunity I get to open my heart’s desires, trust my soul purpose, and activate on it. 

What do I like doing?

I like building teams. I like leading. I like working. I like thinking and writing. I like being a thought leader. I like problem solving and creating solutions to help teams/businesses/products grow. I like facilitating connections. I like connecting dots. I like uniting groups/teams. I like money. I like growing money. I like forecasting and working backwards. I like strategy – building, creating, implementing. I like making hard decisions and critical thinking. I like building culture and collaborative teams. I like putting the pieces of puzzles together.

I like mentoring people, men and women, and helping them reach their full potential. As women, we often don’t trust ourselves. We submit to the louder voice, both externally and internally. We are often overlooked because we are too scared to say what’s really on our minds. In school, we don’t raise our hands. When entering the workforce, we worry we aren’t “right” or fully skilled for a job, so we don’t throw our hat in the ring. 

You know what I say? F*** that. 

I could create a social impact org for mentoring. I could create something positive, gracious, and loving. Women deserve support, solutions, and the space to figure it all out. And every person deserves the opportunity to fulfill their highest divine purpose/destiny. Every person deserves to find and engage in that purpose and to love their decisions. 

Random, but I also like building houses. I really enjoy the project process. I like that there is a beginning, a middle and an end. I like the design and creativity of it. I like collaborating with the different trades and teams. I like knowing how to capitalize on real estate. And I like that real estate values almost always appreciate.

I *think* my path will be something that combines spiritual healing, women, mentoring, and careers…like executive coach on steroids meets technology meets badass.  

How about just a powerful woman who owns who she is, and is unapologetic about the moves she makes, unapologetic about standing up for what is right and fair, and unapologetic about the way she dresses, speaks, acts, communicates, etc.?

Where do I want to go?

I don’t know why but I’ve always had this pull or tug that I’m supposed to do something more. Something bigger. Like when I asked my boyfriend in my early 20’s, “Do you ever feel like you were meant to do something bigger?” To which he responded to me…nothing. Just a blank look…like I was crazy.

I want to be a change-maker and change lives. Maybe the world. I’m supposed to do something bigger. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am not in the shadow of anyone. I can propel myself. I’m going to use my inherent talents and network to build something new. Something big. Something that will one day put me on the cover of Forbes and Fortune magazines.

I want to lead a team, build something of value, grow a business, inspire and empower others. I want to speak, authentically, about my experiences, about growing a business, being a woman, the articles and subjects that I write about. 

I want to allow my spirit and inner guide to soar. It’s time for that. 

**A note from Christine: While I originally wrote this as a creative exercise to narrow my focus after I resigned as co-CEO from the company I helped build, I had zero intentions to share it publicly. In review of all of the writing I did in 2023 to prepare for the Unwinding Perfect blog, I thought this particular piece provided a unique lens into my thought processes one month after resigning. Because of that, I decided to incorporate it into the website and blog. It was interesting for me to look back on this and see how organically Unwinding Perfect evolved - having no clue at that time that a book would soon be written. In review of this piece, I also considered removing much of the brazen dreams that I state at the end. That was, until I handed it over to my editor and she provided the below note. Her constant encouragement and positive reinforcement through the writing process is the ONLY reason the Unwinding Perfect blog is being published She helped convince me that the stories I am telling are meaningful enough to share and could potentially bring value to someone, somewhere. THANK YOU Lauren!

***From Lauren, as written as a comment after editing this blog: “I debated adding something near the end that acknowledged how scary it is to put these big dreams out there, to say out loud what you believe you deserve. But... then I thought, "I only want to put that in because she is a woman, and, as a woman, it's not a celebrated thing to say you deserve XYZ. If this were a man writing, I wouldn't think twice about it." How fucked up is that? (Sorry for the language! But... it truly is fucked up that my mind goes there.) Anyway, I left it out. Because you, and I, and any human, regardless of gender, should be able to boldly declare their worth, their dreams, their power. Great job :)”

Labels Shaped My Identity

The beginning of something new. It’s exciting, and also scary and anxiety-inducing. New means changing. Shifting. Growing. New means stepping outside one’s comfort zone and doing something you’ve never done before. It makes you feel vulnerable, perhaps inadequate, and definitely a smidge fearful.

I recently chose to do something new. I chose to walk away from a company that I helped build from the ground up. And I’m scared shitless. Through this transition, I’m realizing I have created an entire persona and identity around one thing: my job title. In my case, it’s co-CEO. The “co-CEO” title has been one of the best labels and identities I have ever had the privilege of carrying. 

Not surprisingly, elite job titles can be both positive and negative. Positive because they can reflect certain characteristics or abilities, certain levels of comprehension. But they can also become negative when one wraps their  entire identity and value around them. If I was no longer a co-CEO, then what was I? Who was I? Where would my value and worth come from?

A couple years ago, Davie Blu, a friend and spiritual mentor, asked me to make a list of all of the “labels” I have either given myself, or have been given by others throughout my life. The exercise had two parts: first, list all of your labels; second, analyze and begin to deconstruct them. I had to look at each label and ask myself, “Says who?"  Who said this to me? And, did they actually say it? Or did they make me feel it? What is my first memory of having this label? Have these labels become part of my identity? 

It’s a great exercise for anyone because you can begin to unpack all of the labels that have helped shape your identity, both good and bad. After doing the exercise, I was shocked to see that I had come up with 39 different labels (I listed them below). Thirty-nine labels that have, for better or worse, helped create my identity and who I am today.

Insecurities can emerge when labels are misplaced, misused, and inaccurately identified with. When a teacher tells someone that math isn’t their strong suit, they may never pursue their dream of architecture for fear they might not be able to pass the math classes. 

In an example from my list, I had labeled myself as a poor public speaker. Because I believed this, it manifested into a self-fulfilling prophecy. I can’t tell you how many times early in my career as co-CEO that I prepped, practiced, got up to speak, and then completely froze. Like couldn’t-even-get-a-word-out frozen. Which, of course, reinforced in my head that I’m a bad public speaker. How differently would those experiences have been if I had labeled myself a good public speaker? 

Conversely, confidence can grow when labels are attributed with love and good intentions, but even that is not always healthy. The working mom who is everything to everyone, and is told she is a great mom, will continue to overextend herself to the point of fatigue and illness to keep the title of a great mom. The first label I wrote down in the list below – “driven” – is what drove me to be successful in each phase of my life. I was so “driven” that I was willing to sacrifice my own needs and desires to prove I was deserving of the success I was achieving.

Whether the labels and titles you associate with yourself are positive or negative, real or perceived, they shape your identity and how you show up in the world. For five years I had the title co-CEO. And like any CEO title, there was prestige and power that came with it. 

I LOVED being co-CEO, but not because of the aforementioned benefits. I loved it because I loved our team. I loved finding solutions for our growing pains with new talent – like completing a puzzle – each piece coming together for the greater whole. I loved creating well-paying jobs and paying taxes back into the communities we represented and that I grew up in. I loved leading, inspiring, and empowering our team. So when my same friend Davie Blu asked me in August of 2022, “Who are you without what you have created?” I was a little rocked. It was almost as if she knew what was coming and was helping me prepare for it. Over the course of the next few months, I took time to understand who was behind those labels and everything I had created externally.

Who was I? Like, really. At my core, and without the identity of co-CEO, who am I?

I started working with a therapist who taught me about vulnerability, and I started understanding what mattered to me. And none of it was reliant on the labels I had self-attributed or that had been given to me. 

When I started to really understand what mattered to me, the labels and the identity mattered much less. That doesn’t mean I stopped caring all of a sudden. But I didn’t let old habits and comforts define me. This, in the end, was what enabled me to make some really hard decisions, like separating from my husband of sixteen years and leaving the business I loved. Decisions that hurt a lot, but ultimately were the best possible decisions I could have made to allow me to discover who I am and what I want for this next chapter of my life.

The labels I wrote down in March of 2020 when doing an exercise about the words that had defined me for most of my life.

1. Driven

2. Smart

3. Kind

4. Mom

5. Wife

6. Partner

7. Sad

8. Empty

9. Wants more

10. Perfect

11. Lucky

12. Loving

13. Ride- or- die

14. Strong

15. Spiritual

16. Hard-working

17. Compassionate

18. Athletic

19. Confident

20. Bad speech giver

21. Second guesser

22. Intuitive

23. Intimidated

24. Giving/generous

25. Defensive

26. Walled/protected

27. co-CEO

28. Wants to be respected

29. Introverted

30. Awkward

31. Social

32. Friend

33. Yearns

34. Healthy

35. Pragmatic

36. Busy

37. Popular

38. Successful

39. Daughter