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.

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