i came to a wild and so obvious realization over this weekend on what it takes to change your life. it was so wild because we’ve been socialized to believe that changing our lives is hard, and it’s so obvious because it is simple. i won’t do like most and hold the answer to the end because this is too good not to share right out the gate honey. the realization that i came to this past week is: in order to change our lives we have to change who we are.

i know i know. we want things to be easy. when we are living in our ‘soft’ girl era we think we are supposed to desire things to come to us without asking, and things to move toward us without much thought or effort. but that just isn’t the truth.

AND before you hit me with an eyeball and dismiss this entire article let me just tell you now… i am not here on some ‘bro’ stuff like HUSTLE more, do more, be more, more, more, MORE! no. not at all. what i am talking about has nothing to do with DOING. it has everything to do with ‘BE’ing. in order to change we have to change who we are ‘BE’ing. in order to be a new person we have to be a new person. period. it’s that simple.

i know — obvious right? no! because there are so many people on the internet trying to sell us a course of the 10 steps of manifestation, and 5 ways to find your purpose, and 3 tier packages on how to transform your life. they want this to be complicated when really it can all be simplified down to one simple sentence: in order to change you have to change who you are BEING.

think about it this way — we all operate on a vibrational level of sort.

there is high vibration and low vibration. some people call it frequency. whatever works for you, but both are the same. our vibration and frequency is who we are BEING, and who we are being determines the life we are living. it’s internal work. it has nothing to do with the external.

we spend so much time believing and thinking we need to DO, we need to take action for our lives to change, when really the starting point is our frequency, our energy, our vibration. you ever see a woman walk into a room and the entire energy of the room shifts? she has a sort of magnetism, a spark, an energy that draws you in, that makes you curious, that is irresistible. that woman is vibrating at a high level. she is tuned into the frequency within her that calls her boldest, most confident self forward.

see. before anything physical we want can come to us, we have to do the internal work to bring our vibration to the level that meets the frequency of the physical reality we want to be in.

you see, all things exist right now. the poor version of you, the miserable version of you, the 7-figure earning business version of you, the happily married version of you, the confident version of you they all exist now. you just aren’t tuned into the frequency that aligns with that version of yourself.

okay so how do i change my frequency and vibration?

i’m so happy you asked, because this is where it gets good. clarity. clarity in knowing what you want in the most detailed way. not the HOW of which you will receive what you want, but the WHAT. that’s all it takes. because once you have that figured out, now it is just a matter of tuning into that frequency as often as you can. because when you tune into that frequency you begin to act, move, and live like that version of yourself. because again, she ALREADY exists.

you need create nothing.

it already exists. all you need is to tune in. the more aligned, the more tuned, the more in sync you become. and when you are aligned and in sync with that vibration you have then embodied a completely different version of yourself. because it’s not this current low-vibrational version of you operating your nervous system or your decision-making framework anymore — it is now that tuned-in, high-vibrational version of you. so everything about you and the way you show up in the world is different. you tapped into BEING. it is that simple.

I know… obvious right?

you have instantly changed your life. and the key is you can’t go around looking for evidence that your life has changed, because sometimes it takes reality more time to adjust its frequency to match this new version of you. you can’t and you shouldn’t worry about that. focus on your BEING. focus on locking in and staying in tune with your new frequency. keep making decisions. keep doing the things this new version of you says to do. one thing at a time, one idea at a time, one thought at a time. and reality has no choice but to show up differently.

so how do you know what you want?

okay, so everyone is using AI tools to help them build things and do things. in this moment i want to teach you how to use it to tap into a deeper version of yourself. i actually did this myself. so i don’t know if you remember this trend on tiktok sometime last year where people were going into their AI system and asking it to tell them a story of a day in the life from their dream life. now, per usual, a lot of people tell you the results of these things but sometimes they don’t tell you the exact how. this exercise is going to help you get the CLARITY you need to understand what you want, what you deeply desire. and then once you have that, you can tune into that frequency and begin living your life from that vibration.

so when i did MY version of the exercise and i am sharing mine with you because i want you to do the same and report back.

when i did mine, this is some of what came back:

i woke up rested. that was the first thing that hit me — not what i was doing, but how i felt. rested. at peace. my husband’s hand on mine before either of us said a word.

the morning was mine. prayer first, then movement — my body strong and healthy and actually cared for. not rushed, not squeezed in. mine.

my work was real and it was reaching people — women and teen girls around the world, helping them recognize who they actually are. and it was generating real income. not “i hope this works” money. i built something money. and i had a team. i wasn’t doing it alone anymore.

i traveled with my husband. not someday. regularly. we held hands on a flight to paris and talked about legacy and generational wealth and what we wanted to leave behind.

and at the end of the day — after dinner with friends, after tucking my kids in, after the house went quiet — i sat in my reading nook with tea and felt full. not tired. not depleted. full.

that story showed me exactly what frequency i was trying to tune into. and it also showed me how far i had drifted from it in my daily life.

that’s what this exercise is for. not to give you a fantasy. to show you what’s already yours — and remind you what it feels like to be her.

now it’s your turn.

but before i give you the steps, i want to be clear about something. the version of this exercise that went viral, where people would dump a list of things they wanted into an AI and it would spit back a pretty story is the surface level version. and we don’t do surface level here. your dream life is not just a nicer house and a more aesthetic morning routine. it’s a feeling. it’s a nervous system. it’s who you have become.

so the exercise we’re doing today goes deeper than things. we are getting into the frequency of her; the version of you who is already living it.

so grab your journal, open a doc, pull up your notes app. whatever works for you. and let’s do this.

step one: write the story of her life. no limits. no logic.

before you open your AI, i need you to write. and i need you to write from the perspective of her; your future self, the version of you who already has it all. don’t write what seems reasonable. don’t write what you think you can achieve by next year. write what you actually want.

answer these questions as her:

where do you wake up and what does it feel like? what does your morning look like — your body, your movement, the way you start your day? what does your work look like — are there coaching calls, writing, speaking, a team around you? what does your relationship with your partner look like in this version of your life? what is your relationship with money and with time — how do both of them feel? what are you known for? and at the end of the day, when your head hits the pillow, how do you feel?

write it all down. messy is fine. mmmkay now save it, you’ll need it in a second.

step two: give it to the AI.

take everything you just wrote and copy this prompt exactly into claude or chatgpt:

“write me a detailed, first-person story of a day in my life as my future self — the version of me who already has everything i deeply desire. use the description below as your guide. make it feel real, grounded, and specific. describe not just what i am doing, but how i feel in my body, how i carry myself, how i move through the day. write it as if it is already my life.

[paste your writing here]”

pause this article and go read the whole thing. out loud if you can.

step three: now we go deeper.

this is the part the trend skipped. and this is the part that actually changes your frequency.

after you’ve read your story, close your eyes for a minute. breathe. then come back and answer these questions. so, in your journal i want you to write. this part is just for you not AI.

her body:

in that story, how does she feel physically? not what is she doing more like how does she feel? is she rested? is she light? is there a tension she is no longer carrying that you are still carrying right now? what has she let go of that you are still holding onto?

her nervous system:

how does she move through her day? is she rushing? is she reactive? when something doesn’t go as planned (as it sometimes does) how does she handle it? what is her baseline? like how is she feeling when she wakes up every day anxious, or settled? what did she have to unlearn to get there? that unlearning is the real work.

her identity:

who is she when nobody is watching? what does she believe about herself that you don’t fully believe yet? what did she stop performing to become her? what did she stop apologizing for? and what did she finally give herself permission to be?

her relationships:

who is around her and why? what kind of energy is she no longer making space for? what boundary did she finally draw to have the peace she has now? and how does she love and receive love differently than you do today?

step four: the one question that ties it all together.

i want you to sit with this one. don’t rush an answer because this needs to be honest.

what is the one thing she stopped waiting for permission to do AND what would it mean for you to stop waiting too?

write it down. that right there is your next frequency shift.

this is not a visualization exercise. this is a tuning exercise. and this friday ima go deeper on exactly what that means but for now this is enough.

realize that you are not daydreaming about a life you want, what you are really doing is introducing yourself to a version of you that already exists, that is already vibrating at a frequency you haven’t fully tuned into yet.

sis, every time you read that story and sit with those questions, you are closing the gap. you are becoming more her. and when you are more her, you think like her, you decide like her, you move through the world like her.

and reality has no choice but to catch up.

go do the exercise and come back and tell me everything how it went.

with love,

justkreasha

hi, i’m kreasha, just kreasha. before I am anything else I am just myself, just kreasha.

outside of that i am a tech leader, female founder executive coach, and identity coach.

i help women re-define their identity, lean into their superpower, and call forward the most aligned version of themselves.

i do this work through coaching, through 1:1s, through seminars, lectures, speaking engagement, and events.

if you wanna connect on that you can learn more @ www.kreashawebley.com or hello@kreashawebley.com

💬 Feel free to like or comment on this newsletter so more of the girls can find it! ♥️

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i don’t know why we do this. i don’t know why this is a thing. but i feel like there’s a certain version of my life, a certain version of myself that i’ve been holding on to for a “future” version of me to experience.

let me tell you what i mean.

when my husband and i moved into our current home, i kind of stopped myself from doing what i really wanted to do with the space. anyone who knows me knows i love beautiful things. beautiful spaces. i love curating a home that feels like art. but because we were moving into a rental, i held back.

i did enough to make the place feel homey. but i didn’t go all the way.

and i think there was something deeper happening. something i believed even if it was only subconsciously. that i didn’t “deserve” to decorate the house like i really wanted to because we didn’t “buy” it.

like decorating a home, putting energy into making it feel like you, giving it character, adding small touches that spark joy... that was reserved only for people who own.

i have a Pinterest board. like most of the girlies. and it’s a beautiful home. huge expansive windows. color. depth. warmth.

but i convinced myself i don’t get to live that version of me NOW. it’s reserved for later. when i finally get there. when i finally make it.

you know how sometimes you buy clothes? like maybe it’s a dress you saw and you order it and it comes and it fits you like a glove. hugs all your curves the right way. accentuates your best features. and most importantly, it makes you feel beautiful.

you know how you try it on and then you tuck it away in your closet and save it for that special moment? that special occasion that’s “worthy” of the dress? a future version of yourself that deserves to put that shit on?

for me, it was a brown silk dress from mango. see-through with a sexy slip underneath. i bought it two years ago. and it sat in my closet. waiting for the “right” moment.

recently, i watched a documentary. it’s called Come See Me In the Good Light.

it’s about Andrea Gibson, a writer and poet i’ve been following for years. the film documents their last year of life as they battled stage 4 ovarian cancer.

and it wrecked me.

there’s a scene near the end. Andrea is lying on a pillow in bed. it’s an overhead shot. and they’re talking about the moment they were first diagnosed. the doctor said they had maybe two years to live.

Andrea said: at the time, i thought oh my god, that’s not a ton of time at all.

but now, knowing it’s all coming to an end very soon, two years feels like forever. i would give anything to have two years left.

i sat there. crying. because there i was, arguing with my healthy husband about who needs to go to the grocery store. about how we need to get to the gym at 5am, not 5:10am.

and many miles away, there’s someone dying way too soon. someone who would love to go to the grocery store. who would love to argue about the gym.

it put everything into perspective.

after i watched it, i went to my closet.

i pulled out the dress. the one i’d been saving for two years. for the “right” occasion. for when i felt worthy of it.

and i wore it on date night with my husband.

when i walked out of the closet, he looked at me and said: “god damn, i am a lucky man. wow.”

and i floated on clouds the rest of the night. i walked into places like i was a beauty queen. we went to a jazz show and i got up to dance and twirl in the middle of the room. my confidence was through the roof.

all because i finally put that shit on.

I carried that same energy into the next week.

i bought the nightstands.

i lit the expensive candle.

i custom framed and hung the art i’d been saving.

i bought new linens. scrubbed the baseboards of the entire house.

i showed my home so much love and respect. i felt so much gratitude. i truly saw it in a new light.

and slowly, my home started feeling like mine.

i even started using our fine china. the plates we only use for holidays? we eat off them now. daily. because we deserve to eat off fine china every day.

not just when guests come over. not for special occasions. just because.

and here’s the thing. i’m not sitting here like i’ve figured it all out. this newsletter is as much a reminder to myself as it is to you.

because i’m still doing this. i’m still catching myself waiting.

but i’ve decided to stop. or at least, i’m trying.

i’ve decided to stop waiting to feel like the main character.

i used to tell myself:

• when i’m more successful, then i’ll start dressing how i want

• when i’m more confident, then i’ll speak up more

• when my life looks different, then i’ll take up space

but that future version of me? she doesn’t exist.

here’s what i’ve learned. and this is where the psychology gets wild.

there’s something called the Deferred Life Plan. it’s the idea that real life will begin later. after certain milestones are reached.

and high-achievers fall into this the most.

because ambition requires future thinking. but when that future thinking goes too far, it creates a belief that the present moment is not yet worthy of enjoyment.

so life becomes a series of checkpoints. achievement gives you permission to live. but the checkpoints keep moving.

first it’s $50k income. then $100k. then $250k. then $1M.

the moment you thought would bring satisfaction moves forward again.

so the moment you planned to finally relax? it never actually arrives.

because the next number is $1.5M.

and here’s the twist. that future version of yourself? the one who’s more confident, more successful, sexier, more stable, more deserving of good things?

she never fully exists.

most people who reach their goals realize something surprising. they still feel like themselves. same insecurities. same internal dialogue. same humanity.

the “finished version” of ourselves is mostly imaginary.

so why do we do this? why do we wait for a future moment that doesn’t exist?

we believe our future self will be more worthy.

we unconsciously believe that the future version of ourselves deserves good things more than the current version. so we think: i’ll buy the car when i’m more successful. i’ll wear the nice dress when i’m thinner. i’ll decorate when i finally own the house.

underneath that is a quiet belief: i’m not quite there yet.

we’re taught that pleasure must be earned.

from childhood, we learn the rule: work first, enjoy later. this mindset is reinforced by culture, productivity culture, capitalism. you hear things like: when you make it, then you can relax. when you reach this milestone, reward yourself. success first, life later.

over time this becomes internalized as: enjoyment must be justified.

so instead of experiencing joy now, we create conditions that must be met first before we can even touch joy.

we don’t yet see ourselves as that person.

there’s an identity gap. there’s a gap between who we are now and who we believe uses those things. people who drive that car are successful. women who wear that dress have glamorous lives. people with painted walls own homes. they aren’t renters.

so we delay the action because we’re waiting for our identity to catch up.

but behavioral science shows the opposite is usually true.

identity forms through action.

you become the person by doing the thing first.

the people who break this pattern make one mental shift.

they stop seeing joy as a reward. and start seeing it as fuel.

they travel before the “perfect” time. they decorate the rental. they wear the nice clothes on normal days. they take Tuesday dinners seriously like its a Saturday.

they integrate life into the journey. not after it.

here’s the question that breaks the pattern:

what if this phase of my life is not the warm-up?

what if this is the chapter you’re actually meant to experience? not endure.

because what i’ve learned is that you will never meet your future self.

when the future arrives, you will still only experience the present moment.

so the only place life can ever happen is NOW.

all we have is NOW.

paint the walls now. wear the dress now. have the conversation now. start the new career now. forgive them now. go outside and touch grass now.

it’s all we truly have. and NOW is worthy. it is the most precious and most fragile moment we will ever have.

the future does not exist. the past is already gone. all we have is now.

not when you’re thinner. not when you own the house. not when you feel ready.

because you will NEVER feel ready.

and life is happening whether you’re dressed for it or not.

Andrea in the documentary? they didn’t get a second chance to wear the dress. you do. today.

what are you waiting for?

so girl all that to say, the time is NOW.

put that shit on!

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

if you liked this post i think you’d like this one too!

let’s connect: find me @justkreasha on TikTok and Pinterest

or reply to any newsletter. I read every single one.

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i did not realize over 4,000 of you would relate to this newsletter and the note i posted about it either. but y’all did and y’all came with questions honey.

so i am here with my best effort to answer them and share why i created the University of Curiosity for myself and now for you too.

so where do we begin

okay so i believe there’s a ball of light in your belly. i think we’re all born with it.

curiosity. genius. pure potential. when you’re young, it fills you completely. you ask every question. you touch everything. you want to know how things work, why people do what they do, what happens if you try something you’ve never tried before.

but as you get older and societal expectations get ahold of you, that ball of light… it begins to shrink.

pick a major. choose a career path. be good at ONE thing. don’t be scattered. focus. niche down. become an expert. we are told girl figure it out. parents really want us to nail the one thing because the world doesn’t reward curiosity, in their eyes it rewards specialization.

but what i’ve learned is the less you open up to new information, the less you listen to your intuition, the less light you let in that ball of light gets smaller and smaller.

and over time, it goes out.

this is what it feels like when you’re bored by your own life. when conversations feel repetitive. when you default to the same opinions because you haven’t exposed yourself to anything new. when you realize you’ve been living on autopilot, consuming what’s easy instead of what stretches you.

you become less interesting to yourself first. and then, inevitably, less interesting to everyone else.

hear me out, you might be like me

see, this happened to me early last year.

AND if i’m being honest, it had been building for a while.

there came a time in my life where i felt like i knew everything.

i had an answer for everything. an opinion on everything. i could predict how my day would go, what conversations i’d have, what problems would come up, how they’d resolve.

my mama used to say growing up, “live a little more and you’ll see.” she’d say this whenever i acted like i had it all figured out, like there wasn’t much left to discuss or discover.

and girl, she was right. (isn’t she always though)

because eventually, life got boring.

not because nothing was happening. i was busy. successful. doing all the things i was supposed to be doing.

but my day-to-day felt predictable. i knew what was going to happen, when it would happen, how it would happen, where it would happen.

i could live my life with my eyes closed.

and that drove me into a depression.

not the kind where you can’t get out of bed (though some days were close). but the kind where you’re functioning, showing up, checking boxes, and feeling absolutely nothing. numb. flat. going through the motions.

i kept thinking: i need to accomplish more. make more money. have more friends. do something BIGGER.

but that wasn’t the problem.

the problem was i’d turned my light off.

not because life snuffed it out. but because my routine had become so regimented, so predictable, that i didn’t need curiosity anymore. i already knew. or at least, i thought i did.

and that’s a boring, dark, dull-ass life.

finally, one day early last year, i decided i wanted no more of it.

life is too short, too wide, too long to only explore a tiny bit of it.

forget being the most interesting woman in the room. i just wanted to be the happiest, most well-explored, most educated, most curious woman to MYSELF.

so i started asking questions again. about everything.

because intuitively i knew it was my job to re-kindle that ball of light.

here’s what brought the light back: systematic, intentional, practiced curiosity.

this is what i call the University of Curiosity.

and here’s exactly how it works.

what the University of Curiosity actually is

the University of Curiosity isn’t a school. it’s a framework i created for myself that i am now sharing with you.

it’s treating your interests like a curriculum you design for yourself. there are no grades. no productivity pressure. no requirement to become an expert or turn your curiosity into a side hustle. girl everything does not have to be about money. (especially when you are living in a space of abundance but that is another topic for another day.)

just exposure.

at U.O.C you’re letting yourself touch ideas. explore topics. sit with unfamiliar perspectives. learn things for no reason other than they interest you.

this is how you rebuild internal richness. how you become someone you actually want to spend time with. how you develop the depth that makes you interesting—not to impress others, but to satisfy yourself.

we can be so worried about what everyone else thinks but what about being interesting to yourself first, everything else follows.

you ask better questions. you make unexpected connections. you have reference points. you carry quiet confidence because you’ve seen more, thought about more, engaged with more.

you become internally spacious.

and that’s what the University of Curiosity creates: space. room to breathe. room to wonder. room to be surprised by what you didn’t know you didn’t know.

BUT, before i give you the system

i need to say this clearly:

curiosity is not an aesthetic.

it’s not another thing to master. it’s not another productivity hack. it’s not something you add to your morning routine so you can post about it.

this isn’t about building a brand as “the curious girl.” it’s not about curating a bookshelf for Instagram. it’s not about being able to name-drop authors at dinner parties or philosophers at brunch.

the University of Curiosity is not a performance.

it’s a practice. for you. that exists whether anyone ever sees it or not.

the goal is not to become impressive. the goal is to become interested. in yourself. in the world. in ideas.

if it starts feeling like another thing you’re “supposed” to do, another box to check, another way to optimize yourself—you’re doing it wrong.

this is about rekindling the light in your belly. not putting on a show.

how to enroll: the system

after i wrote about this concept, the question i got most was: “okay, but HOW?”

how do you actually practice curiosity when you’re busy, when you’re tired, when the algorithm is screaming for your attention?

here’s the system i use:

step 1: pick your first course

you don’t need a plan for the whole year. you don’t need to commit to mastery.

just pick one thing you’ve been curious about.

art history. how money actually works. why certain buildings look the way they do. the science of sleep. the history of jazz. anything.

give yourself permission to be a beginner. to know nothing. to just be interested.

step 2: commit to a rotation (monthly themes)

here’s what changed everything for me: i stopped bouncing around randomly and started committing to monthly themes.

one month, i’m obsessed with architecture. i’m reading about Brutalism, watching documentaries on Frank Lloyd Wright, noticing buildings everywhere i go.

next month, it’s food systems. where does food come from? how do different cultures approach eating? what’s the history of certain dishes?

next month, it’s neuroscience. how does the brain actually work? what creates habits? why do we remember some things and forget others?

i give myself 30 days to explore one area. not to master it. just to live with it. to let it marinate.

then i rotate.

this keeps curiosity from feeling scattered. it also prevents the thing where you get excited about something and abandon it three days later because something shinier caught your attention.

commit to the month. see what happens.

it’s crazy because what i’ve learned is the themes connect in ways you don’t expect.

when i studied architecture one month → it made me notice design everywhere. → which led me to industrial design. → which led me to the history of everyday objects. → which led me to cultural anthropology.

curiosity compounds.

step 3: choose your study methods

there are five main ways to engage with curiosity. you don’t have to do all of them. pick what works for you.

reading. books, articles, substacks, long-form essays. read outside your industry. i spent a month reading about Baroque art and it changed how i see churches, museums, even Instagram aesthetics.

listening. podcasts, audiobooks, lectures, interviews. listen to people who don’t look or live like you. Ezra Klein, Krista Tippett, 99% Invisible. absorb while you’re cooking, walking, commuting. i recently listened to a slight change of plans randomly and it spoke to me so deeply.

watching. documentaries, video essays, masterclasses. Knife Edge: Chasing MICHELIN Stars taught me more about excellence and discipline than most business books. Chef’s Table taught me about philosophy and patience. you watch how people think, not just what they do.

doing. take a class. try something new. go somewhere you’ve never been. ask questions to people who know more than you. when i got obsessed with Kelly Wearstler’s work, i started noticing boutique hotel design everywhere i traveled. suddenly i was walking into lobbies and asking staff about who designed the space. engaging with the world instead of just consuming content about it.

discussing. book clubs, conversations, debates. talk about what you’re learning with people who are also curious. this is where ideas solidify. where you discover what you actually think versus what you’ve been told to think.

i personally rotate through reading, listening, and watching the most. but doing—actually trying something—is always the most transformative.

step 4: build your proof folder

this is the practice that made curiosity feel real instead of abstract.

keep a running list of what you’re learning. i use a note in my phone. it’s messy. it’s not for anyone else.

it looks like:

• “learned about the Six Day War this week—finally understand Middle East context better”

• “watched Chef’s Table episode on Jeong Kwan—blew my mind re: temple food and patience”

• “conversation with Maya about attachment theory—clicked why i do that thing in relationships”

and because i love to track performance I know that can be toxic but i also track when my curiosity pays off.

when someone brings up a topic at dinner and i actually have something to contribute. when i make a connection between two seemingly unrelated ideas. when i realize i’m holding my own in a conversation i would’ve felt lost in six months ago.

this is how you see the compound effect of curiosity. it’s subtle. but it builds.

you start noticing: oh. i’m not boring anymore. i have things to say. i have questions to ask. i’m interested in my own mind again.

the ball of light is coming back.

what you actually study: the curriculum

one question i get is: “what should i be curious about?”

the answer is: whatever pulls you.

but if you need a starting point, here are areas that have expanded my thinking:

food systems and culinary history. where does food come from? how is it prepared? what’s the history behind certain dishes? i watched a show called Knife Edge: Chasing MICHELIN Stars, and it completely changed how i think about food. watching chefs work their asses off to gain Michelin recognition was illuminating—the pride, the joy, the rigor and discipline around ingredients. and as a details-matter girlie, seeing the focus on folds of linens and curated cups made me so happy. it’s not just about eating—it’s about excellence, craft, and caring deeply about your work.

architecture and design. why are buildings designed the way they are? what does space do to how we feel? how do different climates shape design? i had a season where i was obsessed with interior design. i dived into the work of Kelly Wearstler—she’s considered one of the pioneers of the modern boutique hotel aesthetic, famous for her work with luxury hospitality brands like the Viceroy and Proper Hotels. as a girl that LOVES a boutique hotel over a chain anyway, this was inspiring. suddenly i was noticing texture, color theory, how lighting changes a room’s energy. you start seeing design everywhere once you know what to look for.

love, sex, and attraction. why do we fall in love with certain people? what shapes our attraction? how do different cultures approach sex and intimacy? and i’m not talking about those nasty and oh so good hood love story books (IYKYK) or general romance novels and dating advice but a deeper dive into the psychology behind it all. understanding attachment theory changed how I see my relationships. learning about how desire works made me less confused about my own patterns. exploring how different cultures talk about love opened up entirely new ways of thinking about partnership. this is one of those areas where curiosity makes you better at life, not just more interesting at dinner parties. and girl, there are SO many fascinating books, podcasts, and documentaries about this. Esther Perel's work alone could be a whole semester.

neuroscience and psychology. how does the brain work? what creates behavior? why do we do what we do? okay listen, i know everyone is on neuroscience right now and i must admit i am too—hey Dr. Joe Dispenza. but y’all, i just discovered this TikTok account @apexmindam where this girl reads positive affirmations to you and girllll get into it. understanding how the brain responds to repetition, to belief, to neuroplasticity—it changes how you talk to yourself. how you show up. this isn’t just theory, it’s practical.

art movements and creative history. what were artists responding to? how did movements begin? what was the context? art becomes infinitely more interesting when you understand the why behind it, not just the what.

language and communication. how do people express themselves? what shapes how we talk? even learning a few phrases in another language changes how you see the world. it opens up new ways of thinking. ya’ll remember that song ‘how do I say’ by usher ever since i heard that song when I was a teen girl i wanted to learn Spanish.

music is a whole other topic that we won’t get into today.

you don’t have to study all of these. pick what calls to you. rotate. explore.

and girl don’t make this another thing to add to your list. curiosity goal isn’t expertise. it’s exposure. it’s building texture.

where to start: how to find what feeds you

i’m not going to give you a giant reading list. i did that in my last newsletter and honestly, the best resources are the ones you find yourself.

here’s how i find what feeds my curiosity:

follow the thread. when something interests you, google it. click the first three links. see where they lead. one article mentions a book. that book’s bibliography mentions another author. that author has a podcast. you’re off.

ask people. when someone mentions something interesting, ask: “where’d you learn that?” “what should i read about this?” people love sharing resources about topics they care about.

use substacks as rabbit holes. find one writer who thinks interestingly. read their recommendations. follow those writers. repeat.

let algorithms work FOR you. when you watch one good documentary, the platform will suggest ten more. let it. when you listen to one podcast episode, let it autoplay the next. sometimes the algorithm gets it right.

go to the library with no plan. walk the aisles. pull books that catch your eye. read the first page. if it grabs you, check it out. this is how i found half my favorite books.

subscribe to one thing per theme. when you pick your monthly curiosity theme, find ONE substack, ONE podcast, ONE YouTube channel about that topic. just one. go deep.

the resources i mentioned in my last newsletter still stand (Sapiens, The Atlantic, Chef’s Table, all of it). but your path will be different than mine.

start anywhere. follow what pulls you. let one thing lead to another.

what you gain

when you practice systematic curiosity, here’s what changes:

you become interesting to yourself first. this is the foundation. when your internal world is rich, everything else follows. you don’t need validation from dinner party conversations because you’re already having interesting conversations with yourself.

you ask better questions. you’re not just making small talk. you’re genuinely curious about people and ideas.

you make unexpected connections. you see patterns. you link seemingly unrelated concepts. this is how original thinking happens.

you carry quiet confidence. not because you know everything, but because you’ve seen enough to know you can figure things out.

you have reference points. when someone mentions a topic, you can engage. you’re not lost. you’re not faking it.

you’re less easily influenced. you’ve formed your own opinions through exposure to many perspectives. you’re not just borrowing beliefs.

you stop being boring. to yourself. to others. conversations become richer. life becomes more textured.

you build internal companionship. you actually enjoy spending time with your own thoughts. you don’t need constant external stimulation.

you trust yourself more. because curiosity builds evidence that you’re capable of learning, growing, evolving.

this is the real ROI of the University of Curiosity: you become someone you actually want to be.

what you lose without it

and here’s what happens when curiosity dies:

you repeat the same conversations. same stories. same opinions. nothing new to say.

you default to familiar takes. you don’t think deeply. you just echo what you’ve always thought or what others around you think.

you become reactive instead of reflective. you take things at face value. you don’t question. you don’t wonder.

you’re easily influenced. without your own reference points, you borrow beliefs. you’re swayed by whoever speaks loudest.

you miss nuance. everything becomes black and white. you can’t hold complexity.

you become louder or quieter, but rarely deeper. you might talk more to fill the void, or you might withdraw because you have nothing to contribute. but either way, there’s no depth.

you train yourself to stay surface-level. you skim. you scroll. you consume without absorbing. you’re constantly stimulated but never satisfied.

life feels repetitive even when it’s busy. days blur. conversations feel thin. everything starts to sound the same.

you lose the joy of discovery. the simple pleasure of learning something just because it interests you disappears.

you forget what it feels like to be genuinely surprised by an idea. everything becomes familiar. predictable. flat.

a woman without curiosity might still be successful. she might still be admired. but something inside feels under-stimulated. unfed. empty.

it’s worth it too

here’s what i’ve noticed since I start the practice of the University of Curiosity:

i’m calmer. more grounded. more myself.

i have stories that exist only in my memory. conversations that taught me something. moments where i made a connection that surprised me.

i trust myself more because i’ve built evidence that i can learn anything i’m curious about.

i’m less dependent on external validation because my internal world is full.

and most importantly: i’m interesting to myself again.

the ball of light in my belly is back. that light came back on and girl it is growing.

pregnant with curiosity and i know its going to birth my next big creation.

because it does.

so here’s what i’m proposing:

enroll yourself in the University of Curiosity.

pick one thing you’ve been curious about. commit to a month. choose your study method. build your proof folder. see what happens.

give yourself permission to know a little bit about a lot. to explore without agenda. to learn for the sake of learning.

because you are more than what you look like, what you wear, and what you buy.

you are more than your job title, your niche, your expertise. your followers.

you are a woman with a ball of light in your belly. and curiosity is how you keep it burning.

welcome to the University of Curiosity.

enrollment is always open. tuition is always free.

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

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at a recent dinner at my older cousin’s house

i was in the kitchen getting dessert when my aunt came over.

“oh, let me move out the way,” she said. “ms. bougie is coming through.”

then she went on to tell me i thought i was better than everyone because i had a “lil’ money.” i don’t know where she got that from.

i guess the ‘lil’ money she was referring to was from my first 6 figure job in tech.

there was no celebrating the accomplishment,

there was only a message and the message was confusing BUT clear:

i was too much. too different. too something.

and it wasn’t just her. over the course of that weekend, i heard:

“you think you know everything.”
“you are so extra.”
“you think you’re too good.”
“you ask too many questions.”
“mind your business.”

and these weren’t new. i’d been hearing variations of this my whole life.

at work: “you seem mean.” “you come off stuck up.” “you’re not friendly.”

in social settings: “you’re intimidating.” “you’re hard to read.”

and for years… y’all YEARS… i believed them. i thought something was wrong with me. i thought i needed to change.

the cost of making myself smaller

so i did what a lot of women do when they’re told they’re “too much.”

i tried to make myself smaller.

when i came around family or certain friends, i dressed down. no makeup. kept conversations surface-level. didn’t jump in to add my two cents even when i had something to say.

i performed easy likability. i ‘toned’ it down. i tried to be digestible.

because i wanted their acceptance. i wanted to be part of the group. i didn’t want to be set apart.

but what happens when you spend years making yourself smaller: you forget what your actual size is.

you start to believe that the diminished version of you is the real you. and the fullness? the curiosity? the depth? you start to think that’s the problem.

it really isn’t about you

it took me a long time to realize: these things people were saying had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the way they saw themselves.

i wasn’t “too much.” i was just more than they were comfortable with.

they liked and even loved the old version of me.

and once i learned that i didn’t need their acceptance, i had to learn something even harder: i had to learn to love and accept myself.

what they thought was really none of my gah damn business.

so i stopped trying to change and shifted the way I received those insults.

i recategorized those little slide remarks in my mind and my body. what they meant as digs, i turned into compliments.

insults as compliments: my translation

“you’re too needy”
translation: i’m emotionally intelligent. i communicate my needs instead of pretending i don’t have any. i don’t shrink my desires to protect people who are too afraid to ask.

“you think you know everything”
translation: i’m curious. i read. i ask questions. i’m the girl who knows a little bit about a lot, and that makes me interesting.

“you are so extra”
translation: i’m expressive. i don’t dim my personality to make others comfortable. i take up space unapologetically.

“you are bougie” / “you think you’re sophisticated”
translation: i have taste. i care about quality. i don’t apologize for liking what i like or for cultivating a life that reflects my standards.

“you think you’re too good”
translation: i have boundaries. i know my worth. i don’t settle for spaces, people, or experiences that don’t align with who i am.

“you ask too many questions”
translation: i’m engaged. i’m thoughtful. i don’t do surface-level. i want to understand things deeply, and that intensity can feel like a lot if you’re used to shallow.

“mind your business”
translation: i’m interested in people. i lean into conversations. i listen. and yeah, sometimes that makes people uncomfortable because most people aren’t used to being truly seen.

“you’re picky”
translation: i’m discerning. i have standards. i don’t choose from scarcity, i choose from alignment. i know what works for me, and i don’t waste time forcing what doesn’t.

i am an acquired taste

i am 33, and one of the things i’ve learned as i’ve gotten older is that i am truly an acquired taste.

there will always be people who like me. and there will always be those who don’t. and that’s 100% okay.

i am not the girlie who jumps into new friend groups all friendly or walks into a room of strangers and becomes instantly chatty. like a fine wine, i need to be opened and allowed to sit and rest for a moment before being consumed.

i don’t perform easy likability.

i don’t know if i should be proud to admit this, but i’ve always been labeled as the girl who seemed mean, or stuck up, or my favorite, ”not friendly”, on first impression.

i got that a lot from strangers. once they finally made it around to actually having a conversation with me, they realized i am everything but those things.

i’m kind of used to it.

and honestly, for the majority of my life, i thought this was a fault. something to be ashamed of. something worth putting effort into changing.

but what self-love and self-awareness have taught me is this: i decided a long time ago that i’m not doing the social labor of making myself immediately digestible or non-threatening.

people have to meet me where i am.

and although i have thankfully learned that i am not for everyone, i now am so pleased to sit firmly in this mantra: i am an acquired taste.

everyone will not, cannot, and must not “like” me. and that is 100% okay.

it truly takes a fellow interesting woman to appreciate the fullness of who i am.

so what is an “acquired taste”?

what i’m really saying is that i’m interesting enough that getting to know me is a journey. most of the time, it’s not an instant yes/no.

i’m complex, not immediately accessible, and worth the effort for those willing to stick around long enough to understand me.

i acknowledge that i’m not everyone’s cup of tea. and i’m fine with that.

i trust that the right people will get me.

i’m not trying to be palatable on first impression or make strangers comfortable. i have depth that reveals itself over time.

like a good whiskey or dark chocolate, there’s something layered about me that people miss if they only get surface-level exposure.

usually, i’m initially reserved. and because i’m a curious woman, my questions and the way i lean into conversations… truly listening can be intense and read as “too much” before someone understands the context of who i am.

and here’s the thing about being an acquired taste: you’re in good company.

albums that required the culture to catch up

some of the most influential albums in music history weren’t immediately loved. they confused people. they were “too much” or “too weird” or “too ahead of their time.”

critics loved them, but audiences had to grow into them. they required context. repeated listening. time.

D’Angelo - “Voodoo” (2000)
commercially, it was seen as too experimental, too slow, too weird for mainstream R&B. the way he deconstructed neo-soul, the J Dilla-influenced drum pockets, the refusal to give you easy hooks. and it took years for people to understand what he was doing. now it’s considered one of the greatest R&B albums ever made. people had to grow into it.

Lauryn Hill - “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” (1998)
it was dismissed by hip-hop purists as “too singing, not enough rapping” and by R&B traditionalists as “too hip-hop, not polished enough.” the genre-blending confused people. it wasn’t until later that the culture recognized it as genre-defining rather than genre-confused.

Erykah Badu - “Mama’s Gun” (2000)
her debut was instantly celebrated, but “Mama’s Gun” was too raw, too political, too structurally unconventional. over time, people recognized it as her masterpiece. it required repeated listening to unpack.

Missy Elliott - “Miss E... So Addictive” (2001)
this album confused people. it was too futuristic, Timbaland’s production was too alien-sounding. hip-hop radio didn’t know what to do with “Get Ur Freak On” at first. it took the culture months to catch up. now those production choices are studied as innovative genius.

The Roots - “Things Fall Apart” (1999)
live instrumentation in hip-hop was seen as corny. it was too jazzy, too intellectual, not street enough. over time, it became recognized as one of the most important hip-hop albums of the late ‘90s.

what they all have in common

they required context to be understood. you couldn’t evaluate them on a single listen or judge them by radio singles.

they were doing something the culture wasn’t ready for yet. they created language and frameworks that didn’t exist when they dropped.

critics often got them before audiences did. but even critical acclaim didn’t translate to immediate cultural dominance.

they aged incredibly well. you know damn well just like me these albums still HIT because they weren’t chasing trends.

they influenced everything that came after. you can’t understand modern R&B and hip-hop without these albums, but that influence took years to become visible.

the pattern is: albums that challenged conventions, required repeated listening, and trusted their audience to do the work of understanding them.

sound familiar?

you’re not “too much” you’re ahead

if you’ve ever been called “too much” or “too intense” or “hard to read,” maybe you’re not the problem.

maybe you’re just doing something people aren’t ready for yet.

maybe you require context. maybe like me, you can’t be understood in a single interaction. maybe you’re creating language and frameworks that don’t exist in the spaces you’re moving through.

maybe you’re not for everyone. and maybe that’s exactly the point.

the most interesting people, like the most influential albums, aren’t immediately accessible.

they’re layered. they’re complex. they require you to sit with them. to come back. to pay attention.

and the people who get it? they really get it.

girl at this point, just stop

i have. i’ve stopped trying to be liked by everybody and their mama and started leaning into exactly what makes me distinctive, even if that distinctiveness takes time to appreciate.

ya girl is unique and so are you. we are all different.

i’m complex and specific. and that means connection takes time.

building a connection with me doesn't happen in the microwave, it’s more like a slow cooker that you set low and slow but once it's done, it’s the

most tender damn meat you’ve ever had.

the type of stuff you dream about.

so the real question is

what “lil remarks” have you been carrying as insults that are actually compliments in disguise?

what have people said about you that made you feel like you needed to change, when really, it was just proof that you’re not for everyone…and that’s okay?

what’ve i’ve learned at my big age of 33 is it truly takes a fellow interesting woman to appreciate the fullness of who i am.

i ain’t for everyone. i’m an acquired taste.

and if D'Angelo, Erykah Badu, and Lauryn Hill were initially misunderstood, being "too much" puts you in legendary company.

and if the culture hasn’t caught up to you yet? good.

keep creating your own language. keep challenging conventions. keep trusting people to do the work of understanding you.

anyone that is calling you ‘too much’ ain’t worth the time. let’s be real.

and the next time someone calls you “too much,” take it as a compliment. they’re right. you are. ‘too much’ for them.

because like me, YOU are an acquired taste.

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

let’s connect: leave a comment, send me a direct message

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i recently saw a social media video where a young lady said what is a vacation without looks.

it threw me because i recently came back from a vacation and there were moments that truly felt like ‘rest’. i felt slow, open, i felt wild & free, i felt slow and heartfelt, grateful, and supported by presence. and i had 0 looks.

but the girls on the internet are going all in. the outfits are coordinated by location. the restaurants are chosen because they’re instagrammable. the itinerary is packed from sunrise to sunset because you need variety for the grid.

ring lights in carry-ons. outfit changes timed with golden hour. poses practiced in the hotel mirror.

and somewhere between the photo dump planning and the reel transitions, the actual vacation disappears.

i’m not judging this. i’ve been this girl.

but i’ve started asking myself: when did vacation stop being about rest and start being about performance?

when did “i’m going on vacation” become code for “i’m about to work twice as hard in a different location”?

the vacation i thought i wanted

last year, i planned what i thought was the perfect vacation.

i spent three weeks before the trip planning outfits. not just clothes—coordinated outfits for specific locations. the white linen set for the beach. the sage green dress for the botanical gardens. the rust-colored two-piece for sunset dinner.

i made a list of every instagrammable spot within a 20-mile radius. i saved reels of poses i wanted to recreate. i planned my content calendar around the trip—which photos would go where, which captions i’d write in advance, when i’d post for maximum engagement.

i even scheduled my posts to go out while i was “relaxing.”

and here’s what happened:

i spent six hours of an eight-hour beach day on my phone. editing. filtering. captioning. responding to comments in real-time because the algorithm rewards immediate engagement.

i changed outfits four times in one afternoon because the lighting was perfect and i needed options.

i walked past a local market three times because i was too busy setting up a tripod shot to actually stop and explore it.

i watched the sunset through my phone screen, adjusting exposure, because i’d already decided this moment was for the grid, not for me.

and at the end of the trip, i came home exhausted.

not just physically tired. but depleted. emptied out. like i’d worked a double shift every single day.

i had 47 photos ready to post. a month’s worth of content. hundreds of new followers.

but i couldn’t tell you what the ocean sounded like. i couldn’t remember a single conversation i’d had with a local. i couldn’t recall the taste of anything i’d eaten because i’d been too busy photographing it.

i documented everything and experienced nothing. now that IS cringe.

the shift

last week, i went to the dominican republic with different intentions.

i didn’t plan a single outfit. i packed half of what i normally would. i left my ring light at home.

and on my second morning there, i went for a walk.

no destination. no agenda. no phone in my hand—it was back in the room, charging.

i was just walking. slowly. paying attention.

and i stumbled upon a local man scaling a 30-foot palm tree, knocking down coconuts.

back home, organic coconut water costs $6-10 a bottle. here, i watched this man climb with nothing but his hands and decades of practice, moving like it was the most natural thing in the world.

i ran over and asked if i could have one.

he smiled this huge, genuine smile, grabbed the machete strapped to his waist, and chopped open a fresh coconut for me right there.

and it seemed to be the most pleasurable, most magnificent thing he’d done all day. he was so happy to give it to me.

there is nothing like that moment.

nothing like slowing down enough to notice. lifting your head up from your phone. being present enough to receive the gifts given to us. the things that are right in front of us. the things that are free.

this never would have happened if i’d been in ‘content’ mode.

if i’d been scouting content locations, i would’ve walked right past him. if i’d had my phone, i would’ve been too distracted to notice. if i’d been on my planned itinerary, i wouldn’t have had time for a spontaneous detour.

the best moment of my entire trip happened because i wasn’t trying to create content. i was just there.

rest is a worthy goal

here’s what i’ve realized: we’ve been sold this idea that vacation is wasted if we don’t maximize it.

maximize experiences. maximize content. maximize productivity, just in a prettier location.

we’ve convinced ourselves that rest without proof didn’t really happen.

that a vacation without documentation is somehow less valuable.

that if we’re not showing it, we’re not doing it right.

but rest is a worthy goal all by itself.

you don’t need to earn it by working harder before the trip. you don’t need to document it to make it real. you don’t need to prove it to anyone.

vacation isn’t supposed to be another project. girl it ain’t meant to be stressFILLED! it’s not supposed to be content generation in a different time zone. it’s not supposed to leave you needing a vacation from your vacation.

the point of vacation is to rest. to restore. to be so present that you come back different.

not with more content. not with more followers. just more whole.

what vacation without instagram actually looks like

i know what you’re thinking: “but kreasha, what if people think i didn’t actually go?”

“what if the moments aren’t real if they’re not documented?”

“what if i’m being wasteful by not creating content from this expensive trip?”

i’ve had all these thoughts. i’ve felt all this anxiety.

but here’s what i’m learning: the ROI of presence is internal, not external.

the return on investment isn’t measured in likes or saves or new followers. it’s measured in how you feel when you come home. whether you’re restored or depleted. whether you experienced or just documented.

so here’s what vacation without performance actually looks like:

before the trip:

set phone boundaries before you even pack. i’m talking specific, non-negotiable boundaries. my rule: phone stays in the room until after breakfast. no exceptions. no “just checking one thing.” no “quick story.” it stays there.

pack half the outfits you think you need. i used to pack 12 outfit changes for a 4-day trip. this time i packed four outfits total and wore the same linen set three days in a row. nobody cared. i was more comfortable. i had more room in my suitcase for things i actually needed.

build in unstructured time. this is crucial. don’t plan every hour. leave entire days open. leave mornings unscheduled. create space for spontaneity, for rest, for nothing. the coconut moment happened because i had unstructured time.

post once before you leave: “i’ll be offline for the next week. see you when i’m back.” this removes the pressure. it sets the expectation. it gives you permission.

during the trip:

leave your phone in the room for at least one activity every day. go to breakfast without it. take a walk without it. sit on the beach without it. i promise, you will survive. and you’ll notice things you would’ve missed.

if you must take photos, take them for you. not for the social media. use an actual camera if it helps separate the act of capturing a memory from the compulsion to immediately share it. i started using a cheap disposable camera. i won’t even see the photos until i get them developed. it’s freeing.

say yes to spontaneous moments. the unplanned things are always the best things. the conversation with a stranger. the restaurant you stumbled into. the detour that led somewhere unexpected. you can’t plan for magic. you can only be present enough to receive it.

sit still for longer than feels productive. this one is hard if you’re used to optimizing everything. but just sit. watch people. watch the water. watch the sky. be bored. let your mind wander. this is where restoration actually happens.

talk to locals without filming it. ask questions. learn something. let the interaction exist for its own sake, not for content. some of my richest travel memories are conversations that only exist in my mind now, and that’s exactly where they should be.

after the trip:

share 1-3 photos when you’re ready. not in real-time. not while you’re still there. when you get home and you’ve processed the experience. maybe days later. maybe a week later. maybe a simple carousel with one caption about what you learned or how you feel.

write about what you learned, not just where you went. if you must create content from the trip, make it about the internal experience, not the external aesthetic. what changed in you? what surprised you? what are you taking home that isn’t in your suitcase?

resist the urge to “make content” out of every moment. not everything is for public consumption. some things are just for you. and those things, the ones you keep, i’ve learned often become the most precious.

the university of curiosity: vacation edition

remember how i’ve been talking about the university of curiosity? about being a woman who knows a little bit about a lot?

vacation is one of the richest classrooms available to you.

but only if you’re present enough to learn.

when you’re performing vacation, you’re not actually experiencing the place. you’re experiencing your phone. you’re experiencing the pressure to capture it correctly. you’re in your head about angles and lighting and captions.

when you’re present on vacation, here’s what you study:

cultural anthropology. how people in this place live differently than you. what they value. how they move through their days. what makes them laugh. how they greet each other. what their morning routines look like. you learn this by watching. by asking questions. by being curious instead of curating.

architecture and design. the way buildings are constructed for climate. color choices. materials. spatial flow. you notice this when you’re walking slowly, looking up, paying attention to details instead of hunting for the perfect background.

local food systems. where food comes from. how it’s prepared. what grows here naturally. what’s in season. the stories behind dishes. you learn this by eating slowly, talking to servers, visiting markets, tasting things without immediately photographing them.

language and communication. even if you don’t speak the language fluently, you learn rhythm. gesture. tone. how people express joy or frustration or surprise. you pick up phrases. you understand context. this happens through real interaction, not through your phone screen.

history and context. why this place is the way it is. what shaped it. who lived here before. what changed. what remained. you absorb this through museums, yes, but also through casual conversations, through noticing, through being curious about the story beneath the surface.

natural ecosystems. how the environment works here. what grows. what thrives. how weather patterns shape daily life. what animals you see. what plants surprise you. the coconut guy taught me more about palm trees in five minutes than i could’ve learned from google.

this is the education you miss when vacation becomes performance.

this is the texture, the depth, the expansion that only comes from presence.

interesting women aren’t just well-traveled. they’re present travelers. they collect experiences, not just stamps in a passport. they come home changed, not just with content.

what you actually gain

when you choose presence over performance on vacation, here’s what you get:

actual rest. your nervous system gets to fully relax. you’re not in content creation mode, which is a form of work. you’re not managing anything. you’re not “on.” you return home restored, not depleted.

spontaneous magic. the best travel stories are never planned. they’re stumbled into. they happen when you’re lost. when you’re bored. when you’re paying attention instead of performing. these moments only come when there’s space for them.

deeper connection. whether you’re traveling with a partner, friend, or solo, presence creates connection. with others. with the place. with yourself. you actually talk to your travel partner instead of both scrolling. you actually engage with locals. you actually connect with your own thoughts.

real memories. years from now, you won’t remember your engagement rate from vacation posts. you’ll remember how things felt. tasted. sounded. looked. but only if you were actually there to experience them, not just document them.

internal richness. vacation is supposed to fill you up. give you new references. expand your perspective. teach you something. make you feel alive. none of this happens through a phone screen. it happens through presence.

no post-trip editing burden. you’re not in content mode, you get to just be done when the trip is done.

freedom from metrics. your vacation’s success isn’t measured by likes or saves or comments. it’s measured by how you feel. whether you laughed. whether you were surprised. whether you returned different. this is so much more satisfying than any engagement rate.

the books nobody talks about

if you want to dive deeper into this concept of presence, rest, and resisting the performance of life, here are some books that have shaped how i think about all of this:

“the art of stillness” by pico iyer – a travel writer who’s been everywhere concludes that the most important journey is inward. stillness as practice.

“how to do nothing: resisting the attention economy” by jenny odell – argues that doing nothing, actually being present, actually resting, is a radical act in a culture that demands constant production.

“in praise of slowness” by carl honoré – explores the slow movement across every area of life. slowing down isn’t about doing less, it’s about doing things at the right speed.

“the lonely city” by olivia laing – about what it means to really see a city, to exist in it, not just pass through it. changed how i experience new places.

“digital minimalism” by cal newport – practical strategies for reducing digital dependence. being constantly connected actively prevents the depth and presence that make life rich.

documentaries that explore presence and place

if you want to see what present travel looks like, these documentaries show people engaging with places, not just passing through them:

“chef’s table” (series) – each episode shows how place shapes food and how presence shapes craft. these chefs are deeply connected to where they are, what grows there, what the history is.

“the kindness diaries” – leon logothetis travels the world relying on human kindness, with no money, just connection. he receives instead of consumes.

the quiet payoff

here’s what i’ve noticed since i started vacationing without performance:

i come home different.

not with more followers. not with better content. just different.

i’m calmer. more curious. more myself.

i have stories that exist only in my memory, and they feel more precious because they’re mine alone. i don’t have to share them to make them real.

i’ve learned things i wouldn’t have learned if i’d been in content mode. about coconuts and palm trees. about how people live in other places. about what my own body needs. about what rest actually feels like when it’s not interrupted by scrolling.

i trust myself more.

because when you’re constantly documenting and measuring and comparing, you start trusting external validation over internal knowing. you start asking: did people like this? instead of: did i like this?

but when you vacation without performance, you build internal authority. you know whether something was worth it because you felt it, not because others affirmed it.

and over time, this confidence compounds.

you become more self-trusting. more internally grounded. less dependent on external metrics for determining if you’re living well.

this is the real ROI of presence: you become interesting to yourself first.

this is that video… what a gift.

what you lose by staying plugged in

i need to be honest about the cost here.

because we act like documenting everything is harmless. like it’s just a quick photo. just staying connected. just sharing the experience.

but here’s what you actually lose:

you return exhausted. vacation becomes another work project. you’re “on” the entire time. you’re producing content, responding to comments, checking analytics. your body is on vacation but your mind never left work mode. you need a vacation from your vacation.

you miss spontaneous moments. when you’re staging planned content, you walk right past unplanned magic. the coconut guy? i would’ve missed him completely if i’d been in content mode.

your measurements get confused. you start measuring the trip’s success by engagement instead of by how you feel. did the sunset reel perform well? these become your metrics instead of: did i rest? did i feel alive?

you’re there but you’re not there. your body is on the beach but your mind is thinking about captions. you’re physically present but mentally absent. you train yourself to experience life through documentation instead of through sensation.

you document everything and experience nothing. you have proof you were there, but you don’t have the memory of being there. you can show people where you went, but you can’t tell them what it felt like.

you build a life that looks good but doesn’t feel good. you collect proof of experiences without actually having them. people comment “so jealous!” on your posts, but you’re the one who should be jealous, because you were there and you weren’t there at the same time.

and eventually, your vacations all blur together. you remember the posts you made, but you don’t remember how anything actually felt. you’ve been everywhere but you’ve been nowhere.

you’ve shown vacation instead of being on vacation. and that’s just sad.

what’s a vacation without instagram?

it’s a vacation where the ocean sounds louder than notifications.

where you taste your food instead of just photographing it.

where you have full conversations without checking your phone mid-sentence.

where you notice small things: how light moves, how people laugh, how a place smells at different times of day.

where you get lost and it’s fine.

where you’re bored and it’s fine.

where you sit still and it’s fine.

where you return changed, not just with content to post.

it’s a vacation where rest is the entire point, not a byproduct.

where being present isn’t something you have to remind yourself to do, it’s just what happens when you’re not performing.

it’s a vacation that exists for you, and only you and that’s enough. just be yourself.

so here’s what i’m proposing:

the next time you plan a vacation, plan it for restoration, not documentation.

pack half the outfits. leave the ring light. set phone boundaries before you leave. build in unstructured time. leave space for spontaneity. say yes to detours. talk to strangers. sit still. be bored. notice things.

and when you come home, share if you want to, but not because you have to.

share because you experienced something that changed you and you want to tell that story.

not because you need to prove you went. not because you need to justify the expense. not because the algorithm expects it.

vacation without performance is where the university of curiosity thrives.

it’s where you learn things you can’t google. where you collect texture, not just content. where you become more interesting to yourself, which is always the foundation of being interesting to anyone else.

rest is a worthy goal.

you don’t need to earn it. you don’t need to document it. you don’t need to prove it.

you just need to be there.

truly, fully, presently there.

cheers to slow, intentional, curious vacations in 2026.

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

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and let me just say this…

if your healing has an aesthetic, it might still be performative.

let that land for a moment.

we live in a time where healing has a look. a color palette. a mood board. a tone of voice.

soft lighting. linen sets. matcha in a ceramic mug. morning routines that look calm and expensive. captions about alignment, rest, boundaries, and choosing peace.

and listen—i love beauty. i love intention. i love a well-designed life.

but if i see another curated Pinterest mood board, if i see another woman who looks like the same version of the next woman who is living a soft life, a healed life, a Pilates princess life.

and you know what i mean: these days it’s like healing has uniform. the athleisure preferably a matching set, with the white socks scrunched just right at the ankle, the headband that matches the set, the green smoothies, protein coffees. and the documented “Hot girl walk”.

imma scream.

i get it.

but somewhere along the way, healing quietly became another thing to get right.

another role to play. another identity to perform.

when healing becomes content

when healing becomes something you’re styling for consumption, it stops being something you’re actually inside of.

because real healing rarely looks good while it’s happening.

it looks like grief that doesn’t match your brand voice. it looks like confusion that can’t be wrapped in a neat lesson. it looks like anger that isn’t “high vibrational.” it looks like backsliding. messiness. silence. long stretches where nothing is clear.

and those moments don’t translate well to content.

so we edit them out. we aestheticize the aftermath instead.

we post the calm after the breakdown. the clarity after the doubt. the glow after the unraveling.

but no one is going to say it so i will:

if your healing only exists once it’s polished, shareable, and affirmed then there’s a good chance you’re still performing it.

because healing doesn’t ask to be seen. it asks to be felt.

the cost of performing your healing

i caught myself last week re-recording a voice note about something heavy i was processing. and halfway through the second take, i realized: i was trying to make my grief sound more healed. more articulate. more... palatable.

and that’s when it hit me: if my grief has to sound good to be shared, is it even real anymore?

the moment your nervous system is more attuned to how your growth is perceived than how it’s actually moving through you, something subtle happens. you stop listening inward.

constant external feedback trains your body to wait for approval before deciding how you feel.

you don’t ask, is this true for me?

you ask, does this make sense to others? will they like me? does this make me look cool? is it giving ‘that girl’ energy?

and intuition cannot speak when you’re always narrating your life in your head.

constant visibility locks you in

there’s also a deeper cost we don’t talk about enough: constant visibility locks you into versions of yourself you’ve already outgrown.

when your healing has an aesthetic, there’s pressure to remain consistent with it—to look as healed as you’ve been perceived to be.

but healing isn’t linear. it doesn’t care about continuity. it doesn’t move on a public timeline.

some seasons of healing look like regression to the outside world and radical honesty on the inside. some look boring AF. quiet. unremarkable. some look like disappearing altogether.

and that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. it might mean you’re finally doing it for yourself.

some things need privacy to stay honest

there is something profoundly regulating about letting parts of your healing be private. unwitnessed. untranslated. about knowing that not everything meaningful needs to become proof.

some things need privacy to stay honest. some things need silence to stay sacred.

so here’s a question worth sitting with and i’m not saying this to welcome the opportunity to judge yourself, just to tell the truth:

if no one ever knew about this version of you… would you still choose her?

would you still rest this way? heal this way? move this slowly? say no this often? change your mind this freely?

if the answer feels shaky, listen to that. it’s the information you may need.

maybe the next layer of healing isn’t about becoming more visible, more articulate, more aesthetic.

maybe it’s about becoming less explainable. less performable. less concerned with being understood.

maybe real healing doesn’t ‘glow up’. maybe it grounds you down, down where your feet touches grass and your roots catch the sun.

and maybe you’re allowed to let it be yours. it doesn’t need a look, a label, and for damn sure not an audience.

so here’s what you can do

this week, let one part of your healing be private. unposted. unwitnessed.

maybe it’s:

• the conversation you have with yourself that never becomes a caption

• the boundary you set that you don’t explain to anyone including yourself

• the grief you feel that doesn’t need to be packaged into a lesson for consumption

• the change you make without announcing it to IG or Tiktok or even Substack

and notice how it feels to heal without an audience.

notice if it lands differently in your body. notice if it moves through you more fully. notice if it feels more true more real.

because some of the most profound healing happens in the spaces no one else will ever see.

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

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there’s this trend on tiktok where girls are sharing “things i think are incredibly chic.”

you’ve probably seen it.

the girls are sharing these perfectly curated list: red lipstick. gold jewelry. a silk scarf tied just so. ballet flats. croissants in a linen bag. reading french novels in cafes.

and look, i’m not mad at any of that. i love a good aesthetic moment as much as the next girl. but here’s what i’ve noticed: almost all of it is rooted in consumerism.

what the girls are saying make a woman chic is all about what she wears. what she buys. how she looks. her beauty routine. her carefully selected objects.

and in all the videos i’ve scrolled through, i haven’t seen a single one talk about her mind.

so let me add my two cents to the list:

the most incredibly chic thing about a woman? a curious, expansive mind.

i’ve drank the koolaid before too

i bought into the idea. you need to have your hair done every two weeks. your nails need to be a perfect french tip. you need the chanel flats, the dior foundation, the fenty lipgloss, and the prada bag.

i’ve been there. done that.

matter of fact, to expose my nonsense: last year i entered the new year believing all the hype of the “glow up.”

i mean fully.

i went out and spent $500 at sephora on new makeup. i scheduled a $700 hair appointment. i went and got my nails and toes done, which was another $225. i booked massage appointments out in advance for Q1. and i paid for weekly meal prep to be delivered every Sunday.

i was determined to show up as the “best version,” the most chic version of myself.

and when it was all said and done, by the end of february, i still felt the same.

i did not feel like i learned anything new about myself. and i knew a $1,500/month beauty and fashion budget was not sustainable. i know cringe.

girl, i look back at that now and think: what the heck was i thinking?

what i was thinking was: all of this will make me more attractive. more magnetic. more interesting.

and maybe i did turn a few more heads. maybe my content did get a bit more views.

but as far as the expansion of who i was as a woman? that did not change at all.

i wasn’t interesting. i was just another version of every single girl on the internet, dressing the same, acting the same, doing the same things.

you are more than what you look like, what you wear, and what you buy

the girls who knows a little bit about a lot is, in my opinion, are the most interesting woman in the room.

she is chic. she has taste. she is well-versed and round in all the right places.

but not because of what she’s wearing but because of what she’s thinking. what she’s exploring. what she’s paying attention to.

i’ve had a love for fashion since grade school. but i also loved babies and was obsessed with infancy, how a baby grows into a full human being.

i’m also obsessed with beautiful objects and spaces and how they make me feel. i love pilates and weight training. i’ve recently dabbled in art history. i’ve explored the multiple extinctions of the world, how and why they happened. i’ve been recently obsessed with human design.

and for a long time, i felt like this was too much.

when it came to showing up online, i felt like i needed to present a certain version of myself. to put myself in a box. to make myself digestible to other people so they could understand who i was.

i changed my instagram bio 10 different times as i explored new things.

i’ve never been able to define myself and fit into a box.

the world is always telling us we need to be one thing. don’t be double-minded. how can you become an expert in anything if you’re focused on everything?

but i believe differently.

i believe the breadth and depth of what we dare to play with reaches inside of us and touches untapped parts of our personality and being that we never knew existed.

how do you know you like a certain type of art, or food, or genre of movies, or books if you’ve never experienced it? if you haven’t been exposed?

how do you know?

the university of curiosity

we create belief systems built off the worlds we’re born into. and most of the time, that shapes who we become and how we think.

but now, in the golden age of the internet, there is so much access all around us.

we’ve been given the tool to play in the unknown. to expose ourselves to the wilderness. to become lost in the best way possible.

there’s another way to explore interest without it being doom scrolling. without it being an uninterrupted deep dive into comparison or a nosebleed seat into the latest trend or drama.

what if you treated the internet like a school?

you’ve just enrolled in the university of curiosity.

and here, you get to explore many topics. all of which will enlighten you, if you allow it.

curiosity as a curriculum

instead of thinking of curiosity as something casual or random, position it as a curriculum you design for yourself.

this isn’t like your typical school, there are no grades. no productivity pressure. just exposure.

you’re letting yourself touch ideas. art movements. money systems. history you were never taught. how things are made. how people think. why cultures do what they do. how the body works. how power moves. how beauty standards form. how relationships actually function.

this is how women become interesting without trying to “be interesting.”

university works not because you become an expert in everything, but because you sit in rooms with unfamiliar ideas. you hear new language. you’re forced to consider perspectives you didn’t grow up with. curiosity recreates that, without permission.

five minutes reading about architecture. ten minutes listening to a historian. one podcast episode about neuroscience or fashion history or faith or money.

it accumulates as texture that adds to the essence and the layers of who you are.

this is how women develop depth

when you’re a well-rounded, interesting woman, here’s how it shows up:

you ask better questions. you make unexpected connections. you don’t default to surface-level takes. you’re less easily impressed and less easily shaken. you carry yourself with quiet confidence because you’ve seen more.

interesting women aren’t loud or performative. they’re internally spacious.

they have reference points.

curiosity isn’t something you do. it’s something you practice.

here’s how you can enroll into the ‘university of curiosity’

rotate themes of interest. one month obsessed with money, next with art, next with health. we all do it but do it intentionally, save articles and podcasts not to “catch up on,” but to visit when you can be present and tap in, engage, and learn. read outside your industry on purpose.

listen to people who don’t look or live like you.

where to start

i know that saying “be curious” can feel vague without direction. so here’s where i’ve been exploring, the places that have expanded my mind without requiring mastery or performance. think of these as entry points, not assignments. i’ve linked most of them.

publications worth your time:

• The Atlantic: cultural and philosophical essays that make you think differently about the world

• The New Yorker: long-form journalism, art criticism, ideas that linger

• The New York Times Opinion & Review: cultural criticism and book reviews that challenge perspectives

books that expand you:

• bell hooks, All About Love: reframes how we think about love and relationships

• Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: spiritual depth without the fluff

• Dr. Joe Dispenza, Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: neuroscience meets spiritual transformation

• Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist: a classic on following your path

• Yuval Noah Harari, Sapiens: human history in a way that makes you rethink everything

• Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything: science made accessible and fascinating

• Peter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees: how forests communicate and live

• Sam Kean, The Disappearing Spoon: the periodic table as a story of human discovery

• Elizabeth Kolbert, The Sixth Extinction: our planet’s history and humanity’s impact

substacks that feed curiosity:

• As Seen On by Ochuko: thoughtful perspectives on culture and identity

• For The Record: sharp observations on what’s happening now

• What Is This Even: questioning the everyday with clarity

• Financial Hot Girl: Financial advise from a girl who has done the work

websites and blogs to explore:

• Brain Pickings/The Marginalian: connections between art, philosophy, and science

• Aeon: deep essays on ideas that matter

• Long Reads: curated long-form storytelling from around the web

• Ted Talks: deep ideas, new ideas, worthy ideas

documentaries that stretch your thinking:

• Franca: Chaos and Creation — Portrait of Vogue Italia editor Franca Sozzani and her massive influence on fashion editorial work.

• The Most Unknown: follows scientists exploring the unknowns of existence, celebrating curiosity itself

• The Gospel According to André – On André Leon Talley’s life and career in fashion (popular recommendation)

• Our Planet: David Attenborough’s stunning look at ecosystems and humanity’s impact

• Particle Fever: inside the Large Hadron Collider and the human drive to uncover reality’s building blocks

• Beltracchi: The Art of Forgery — A fascinating look at art, authenticity, and deception

start anywhere. follow what pulls you. let one thing lead to another.

the quiet payoff

this kind of curiosity allows you the opportunity to become interesting to yourself first.

it makes you more self-trusting. it makes conversation richer. it gives you inner companionship. it makes your inner world feel alive. it makes you less dependent on external validation. and over time, people can feel your confidence growing.

not because of what you do. but because of how full your inner world is.

the cost of not being curious

so what’s the cost of not being curious?

you start repeating the same conversations. you default to familiar opinions. you consume what’s easy instead of what stretches you. not because you’re incapable, but because curiosity requires space, and speed crowds it out.

without curiosity, you become reactive instead of reflective. you take things at face value. you borrow beliefs instead of forming them. you’re more easily influenced, more easily triggered, more easily convinced.

a woman without curiosity often becomes louder, or quieter, but rarely deeper.

without curiosity you miss the subtle joy of discovering something just because it interests you. you miss the confidence that comes from having reference points. you miss nuance. you miss complexity. you miss the ability to hold more than one truth at a time.

you miss becoming surprising to yourself. without curiosity, life starts to feel repetitive even when it’s busy. days blur together. conversations feel thin. everything starts to sound the same. you might still be successful. you might still be admired. but something inside feels under-stimulated. unfed.

curiosity is what keeps you internally alive. it’s what keeps you evolving without forcing reinvention or a freaking re-brand.

and the most interesting women they’re still asking questions. still exploring. still leaving room for wonder. because they are open and they’re paying attention.

all this to say…

enroll yourself in what i call the university of curiosity. give yourself permission to know a little bit about a lot, because you are more than what you look like, what you wear, and what you buy.

the most incredibly chic thing about you? your curious, expansive mind.

with love,

@justkreasha from Just Be Yourself

if you liked this post i think you’d like this one too!

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i was in the bathtub. supposedly relaxing.

candles lit. bubbles. the whole setup.

and i made the mistake of opening instagram “just for a second.”

1.5 hours later, i snapped out of it. my fingers were pruned. my hands withered. sweat was dripping down my face because the water had gone cold.

but worse than that? my shoulders had crept up so close to my ears i could feel the tension radiating down my spine. my eyebrows were drawn in. my jaw was clenched.

i was literally holding my breath as i scrolled.

and when i finally looked up, all i felt was: behind. overweight. unsuccessful. and a deep, hollow guilt for the time i’d just lost.

i got nothing from those 1.5 hours. and i didn’t even get to relax in the bath.

something snapped in me. a voice said: kreasha, what the f*$k are you doing?

i couldn’t keep holding my breath

and here’s the thing: i know exactly how this happened.

because i helped build the machine that did it to me.

i’ve spent the last 8 years working at some of your favorite tech companies as a senior leader, leading content moderation teams at instagram, tiktok, and pinterest. and when i say they are building to keep you hooked, to keep you online as long as possible so they can use your eyes to sell ads, i mean it.

i sat in meetings where we discussed “time on platform” metrics like they were the only numbers that mattered. i watched engineers a/b test notification timings to figure out exactly when to ping you so you’d come back. i saw how every feature, every color choice, every swipe gesture was designed with one question: how do we keep them here longer?

and here’s the thing that haunts me: it worked.

i watched the average session times climb. i saw the data showing people couldn’t put their phones down even when they wanted to. i was part of building systems so effective at capturing attention that people would look up and hours had passed without them realizing it.

i’m not saying this to be dramatic. i’m saying this because i need you to understand: these aren’t neutral tools.

there is a literal army of some of the smartest people in the world (psychologists, designers, engineers, data scientists) working every single day to take up as much of your brain space as possible.

and they’re winning.

the collective breath-hold

there is a collective energy shift happening. i feel it in my spirit, in my bones, in my soul.

we are all overstimulated. there is a deep sense of purposelessness.

i hear it when i talk to my girls. i see it when i browse substack. we have all collectively held our breath so tight trying to get the last squeeze out of algorithms, jobs we hate, relationships that drain us, cities that suffocate us, and trauma that has held us hostage.

all in combination with the constant pressure to keep up and to keep going.

none of us can keep holding our breath.

the picture i’m painting for 2026

so i painted a new picture for 2026. and y’all, it’s so beautiful.

it’s vivid, saturated with color, simple yet profound. it’s a life where i’m not just surviving the week to get to the weekend. where i’m not white-knuckling my way through my days waiting for some future version of my life to start.

this picture looks like sunday mornings that stretch lazily into afternoon. it looks like my hands covered in wax while i’m making candles with scents i actually chose, not what some algorithm decided i’d like. it looks like walking through the farmers market with no agenda, letting a beautiful bunch of dahlias inspire dinner instead of doomscrolling recipe videos i’ll never make.

it looks like sitting in a dim jazz club on a random tuesday because i can, because my life isn’t so tightly scheduled that spontaneous joy has nowhere to fit.

and here’s what surprised me: i’m actually excited to experience it all.

not the fake excitement of achieving the next milestone. real excitement. the kind you feel in your body. the kind that makes you want to be awake and present for your actual life.

waiting to exhale

i’m calling this the year i finally exhale and let go of the tension that’s built up so deeply in my bones that i couldn’t even name it until recently. the tension of constantly performing, producing, optimizing, and proving.

i recently re-watched waiting to exhale and that movie moved me like it never had before, like i was seeing it for the first time with fresh eyes.

there’s a song—whitney houston’s “exhale (shoop shoop)”—and she sings:

hearts are often broken
when there are words unspoken
in your soul there’s answers to your prayers
if you’re searching for a place you know
a familiar face, somewhere to go
you should look inside yourself
you’re halfway there

those four women in waiting to exhale had been holding their breath waiting for men to complete them, for their lives to start once they had the relationship, the validation, the external thing they were chasing.

but the exhale came when they realized they were already whole. they just had to slow down enough to see it.

we’re doing the same thing.

holding our breath waiting for the promotion, the algorithm boost, the relationship milestone, the next achievement to finally let us feel like we’ve arrived.

but we’re already here.

the life is happening now, while we’re sprinting through it half-conscious and overstimulated.

why you can’t think for yourself

you probably already know this on some level, but knowing and feeling the full weight of it are different things.

knowing that there is a real army of people working to take up as much brain space from you as possible, where is there space left for you to decide for yourself what you really like, what you really want out of life, what really excites you and draws you in, what energizes you and moves you?

there isn’t any.

there isn’t any room to think about other things when your brain is moving so fast and is always focused on media, content, and screens.

so i’m here making the case for tapping out of the matrix and into a slower life.

what a slow life actually means

let me be clear about what a slow life actually means, because i think there’s confusion.

a slow life isn’t about being broke or struggling or rejecting success. you can have abundance, ambition, luxury, and achievement while living slowly.

what you’re rejecting isn’t having things. it’s the pace and the pressure.

you’re de-coupling success from hustle culture, wealth from burnout, ambition from constant availability.

a slow life means you move through your days with intention rather than urgency. you’re present for the life you’re living instead of always racing toward the next thing.

and here’s what matters: ease doesn’t always mean easy.

some of these slow practices require more effort than their fast alternatives (cooking vs. doordash, fresh flowers vs. none at all), but they create emotional spaciousness even when they take physical time.

how i’m choosing to slow down

i’ll be honest: i haven’t done all of these things yet. some of them i’ve ordered supplies for, some are scheduled in my calendar, some are just intentions i’m holding gently.

but that’s the point. it doesn’t need to be done already. the year just started. this is about creating space for a different kind of life to emerge.

here are some of the ways i’m choosing to slow down in 2026:

• puzzles with a glass of wine

• junk journaling, saving all tickets and badges from concerts and shows

• diy weekly floral arrangements from trader joe’s flowers

  • i’m currently taking an ikeabana Japanese floral workshop

• candle making with natural fragrances

• live jazz music in hole-in-the-wall venues

• farmers market stops that lead to home-cooked meals

• library visits that lead to cozy movie nights

• slowing down to spot joy daily in my joy spotting journal (i’ve already spotted three this week: the way my coffee steamed in the morning light, a stranger’s genuine laugh at the grocery store, and michael’s hand reaching for mine without thinking)

i’ll be sharing what actually happens as i move through these. the ones that stick, the ones that flop, what i learn about myself in the slow moments.

because that’s the real experiment: what do i discover about who i am when i’m not constantly plugged in?

romanticizing your life

some of these things are free. some of them cost more than others. but all of them feel like moments my soul needs to have.

this isn’t about adding more to your plate. this is about romanticizing your life and finding beauty and meaning in the ordinary moments that actually make up most of our existence.

it’s treating your daily life like something worth savoring, not something to get through while you’re waiting for the “real life” to start.

the puzzle isn’t just a puzzle. it’s golden hour light streaming through your window, your favorite wine, and the satisfaction of finding pieces that fit.

the farmers market isn’t just groceries. it’s the ritual, the colors, the conversations, the act of choosing ingredients that will become a meal you cook with your own hands.

so here’s my question for you

what would it mean for you to exhale in 2026?

not to quit everything or burn it all down (though angela bassett energy has its place), but to intentionally create pockets of slowness where you can actually hear yourself think. where you can remember what you genuinely like, not what the algorithm tells you to like.

you don’t have to do all of these things. pick one.

light a candle you made yourself. go to the library. buy flowers and arrange them badly but with love. find one small way to exhale.

start small. start messy. start today.

the life you’re building doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. it just has to be yours.

remember: this year, the only goal that truly matters is being yourself. and these slow moments help us remember who we are.

with love,

justkreasha

hey sis, thank you for being here.

i’m kreasha, the writer behind just kreasha. my life used to be really fast, beautiful, and yet miserable. for 8 years i was a senior leader at your favorite tech companies (Instagram, TikTok, Pinterest) and at the height of my career I decided to leave the tech world and dedicate my life to helping women like you come home to themselves, step boldly into who they have always been, and live a slow intentional life.

I teach The Embodiment Method: three pathways to help you move from becoming to being, from chasing to embodying, and from future-focused to present-rooted. Through 1:1 coaching and workshops, I help you identify what’s keeping you stuck, create practices that ground you in who you are right now, and build a life slow enough to actually live.

soon i’ll share ways we can work together but until then,

let’s connect: find me @justkreasha on Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest

or reply to any newsletter. I read every single one.

💬 Feel free to like or comment on this newsletter so more Substack users can find it! ♥️

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in 2026, there is one worthy goal that i think we all should be focused on.

one goal that immediately sets you apart from the crowd. one goal that, if accomplished, would be life-changing.

and that goal is coming back home to yourself.

let me explain what i mean.

the sedona trip

one of the most memorable trips i went on this year was a 40th birthday trip for a set of twins who are some of my husband’s best friends.

40 is a big number, and so the trip felt like a big deal. and it was.

essentially, not only was it a birthday trip, but it also became a couples trip because we’re all married. we were headed to Sedona, Arizona. three married couples, everyone with varying expectations of what the trip would behold for the group.

but outside of what everyone else was going into the trip thinking and feeling, i was going into the trip fragile. scared. detached. and honestly, just a bit lost.

my husband and i had just come out of a failed embryo transfer. i literally had 422% more estrogen in my body than the average woman as a result of all the shots—with no baby. and i had just quit my job.

i was in a really weird place in my life. in my mind. and most importantly, in my heart.

without sharing all the details of what we did or how the trip went—all of which are irrelevant to this story—i’ll skip to the part that felt monumental.

on our last night in Sedona, we were at a steakhouse for the official birthday dinner. one of the twins asked something that sparked conversation around how we were feeling.

and as the question was being answered by each person, i deliberately stalled. i would pass to someone else when it came to my turn. until i was the last person who had not gone yet.

during the time others were answering, i was contemplating whether or not i was going to be honest. whether or not i was going to be real. whether or not i was going to be vulnerable.

when the moment finally arrived—and i had searched the depths of my soul to find the courage to lie—i finally lifted my head and told the truth.

without thinking or overanalyzing what i was saying, i softly spoke:

“i am honestly in a really fragile time in my life. i’ve drifted so far from the core of who i am. i am honestly just on a journey coming back HOME to myself.”

the table kind of sat there in silence for a moment.

because coming back home to myself—what does that even mean?

i let the pregnant pause linger. and then i continued:

“for me, this moment in my life is all about realignment. i’m ready to stop performing, people-pleasing, or molding myself to external expectations. and instead, reconnect with my own values, desires, and instincts.”

it took the conversation to a whole new level of depth. and honestly, it felt like we were being real with one another for the first time in a long time.

in that moment, i realized: by sharing my truth and by being vulnerable, i give space for other people to do the same. i establish a ground of safety.

sidenote: i am truly a lighthouse for other people. stepping fully into that side of me in 2026.

what does it mean to come back home to yourself?

the experience of coming home to yourself feels like relief mixed with recognition—like you’re remembering something you’d forgotten rather than discovering something new.

you might notice it in small moments: saying no without guilt. choosing what energizes you over what impresses others. or feeling calm in your own company.

it’s not about becoming someone different. it’s about stripping away the layers of adaptation and conditioning to rediscover the person who was there all along.

the voice that knows what you actually want.

the instinct you can trust.

the version of yourself that feels most real, even if she’s messy or doesn’t fit neatly into others’ expectations.

for many women especially, coming home to yourself often involves reclaiming agency over your time, body, ambitions, and boundaries—choosing yourself as deliberately as you’ve chosen to show up for others.

and i think it is a worthy goal for 2026. i think it is the ONLY goal for 2026.

if you’re still here

if you are here and you’ve made it to the bottom of this newsletter, then this next part is meant for you.

listen, from my heart to your ears. i need you to really hear this:

there is nothing—and i mean nothing—more important than coming back home to yourself.

not the job. not the approval. not being who everyone else needs you to be.

because here’s what happens when you lose yourself: you can check every box, impress every person, build the perfect life on paper, and still feel hollow. still feel like you’re watching your own life from the outside.

i know why you drifted

you were being good. you were being responsible. you were doing what you thought you were supposed to do.

maybe someone told you that your dreams were impractical. or that your instincts were wrong. or that you needed to be more reasonable, more palatable, more... less.

so you adjusted.

you made yourself smaller. quieter. easier.

you learned to second-guess the voice inside you that knew better.

but that voice? she never left.

she’s been waiting for you this whole time.

coming home isn’t selfish—it’s survival

it’s the difference between living your life and performing someone else’s version of it.

and i know it feels scary because you’ve built so much around being who you thought you should be.

the relationships that expect a certain version of you. the identity you’ve curated. the safety of staying small.

but you have to understand: every moment you spend disconnected from yourself is a moment you can’t get back.

every decision you make from a place of fear or obligation instead of truth compounds.

and eventually, your body will make you listen—through exhaustion, through resentment, through that quiet desperation that whispers, “this can’t be all there is.”

what coming home means

coming home means trusting yourself again.

it means believing that your desires aren’t frivolous. that your boundaries aren’t mean. that your ambitions aren’t too much.

it means understanding that the people who love the real you—the messy, complex, evolving you—those are your people.

and the ones who only loved the version of you that accommodated them? they were never truly seeing you anyway.

you don’t need permission

you don’t need to wait until it’s convenient.

you don’t need to earn the right to be yourself.

you just need to start choosing you—in the small moments, in the daily decisions, in the brave act of saying “this is what i actually want” even when your voice shakes.

because here’s the truth: you can’t build anything real on a foundation of pretending.

not a career. not a relationship. not a life.

the only life worth living is the one where you recognize yourself. where you feel like you’re driving. where your choices make sense to you even if they confuse everyone else.

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so, in 2026 come home

come back to the girl who knew what she wanted before she learned to doubt herself.

come back to your instincts, your preferences, your non-negotiables.

come back to the version of you that doesn’t need external validation to know she’s enough.

the world will adjust. it always does.

but you—you only get one life.

and spending it as anyone other than yourself is the only real tragedy.

you deserve to come home.

and the woman waiting there for you? she’s been worth finding all along.

my word for the new year btw is ‘home’.

let me know how this resonates i’d love to hear about your new year plans or your word of the year.

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with love,

@justkreasha

now here’s Part 2: stop seeking inspiration from everyone else. YOU are the inspiration.

i’ve been thinking about this a lot as i’ve claimed 2026 to be the year i just be myself. for once.

this means leaning all the way into who i’ve always been. calling forward the highest version of myself that i’ve been hiding.

and this is my case for why you should too.

the influence trap

you know how we go onto social media and, if we’re creatives of any sort, we claim we’re scrolling to find inspiration? to find motivation? to spark creativity?

but really, what we’re logging in to do is be influenced.

influenced to buy. influenced to go down a rabbit hole. influenced to feel hatred in our hearts toward a thing, a person, a point of view. influenced to feel sad, mad, happy. influenced to do everything except be ourselves.

and here’s what i learned in 2025: there is no bigger influence over my life than myself.

when i actually show up for myself. when i put a target on the board and do everything in my power to accomplish it. when i go through hell and high water. when i relax into my softness. when i aim high and actually hit the mark.

there is nothing on this earth that is a bigger influence.

think about it: you actually hitting your goals. you actually showing up fully as yourself. you playing the game of life big. you giving it all you got.

there is truly nothing more inspirational than that.

the moment i logged off and finally heard myself

one week, my husband was away on a work trip.

and for some reason, i decided to log off all social media. turn off the TV. just be in silence for the majority of my time.

i made breakfast in silence. i showered without bringing my phone in to listen to a podcast. i drove and put on lo-fi. i sat on the couch and ate my lunch in silence.

and y’all.

after about two days of silence and intentional stillness, the thoughts, the ideas, the creativity just began to drop in.

it honestly felt magical.

i ran upstairs to my computer and literally pumped out six newsletters. no ChatGPT. no Claude. no AI. just me, typing away.

i felt healed of something. i felt like i could actually hear myself think.

i was finally clear.

i was out of the influence bubble and could actually hear my own thoughts and ideas.

why i almost never started

for the longest time, i didn’t create this newsletter because i added so many layers of what it was supposed to be.

the people online said: you need to start with this or that. you need a CTA. you need an offer. you need to be building a community. you need to write every day to get good.

girl, all the things.

until finally, i was like: STFU.

i sat on it ALL YEAR. until October.

because i was too tapped into everyone else’s advice on how it needed to come about. so much so that i felt overwhelmed. i felt unworthy to share all my knowledge, tools, and tips.

i was literally influenced to not even start.

the cost of constantly seeking inspiration externally

here’s what it costs you:

you waste hours and hours of time. you never really give your mind time to think. time to be in silence. time to settle in and actually locate all the creativity in your mind.

and when you’re constantly tapping into other people’s energy and aura online, you begin to lose your own.

you start to convolute whether a thought, an idea, or a desire is even yours or not.

i’ve heard it said before: get offline and get outside and touch some grass.

the more you log off, the more you can log in and actually bring new energy into the collective. energy that only you can bring.

sometimes we log online and everyone looks the same. everyone is speaking the same. everyone has the same desires, hopes, and dreams.

because we never logged off long enough to find our own.

someone else’s dream looks fun. they look happy. maybe i should want that too.

but here’s the truth: it costs you everything.

you rob yourself of the opportunity to live the life you were called here to live.

you don’t need inspiration. you ARE the inspiration.

there is nothing that will inspire you more than your own creations.

the courage. the bravery. the audacity it takes to act on something that’s pulling at your heart. something you can’t get out of your mind.

the action will spark that creativity. then the next action will give you a sense of motivation. then the next action will inspire you. then the next action will INFLUENCE you to continue to move, to continue to act.

see, in 2026, you don’t need to log on to social media to find your next inspirational post, your next GRWM, your next day in the life, or your next vlog.

what if you logged OFF social media and logged INTO your own life?

how to influence yourself in 2026

here’s what i’m doing. and what i invite you to do too:

1. the silence practice

log off social media for 2-7 days. no podcasts in the shower. no music with lyrics in the car (lo-fi only). eat meals in silence.

let the stillness make you uncomfortable until ideas drop in.

this is where your own thoughts live. but you’ll never hear them if you never give them space.

2. your ideas first

before you open social media, ask yourself: “what do I want to create today?”

if you don’t have an answer, stay logged off until you do.

create first. consume second.

morning pages. brain dump. journal. capture YOUR thoughts before anyone else’s enter your mind.

ask: “what do I think about this?” before you see what everyone else thinks.

3. the influence audit

track how much time you spend consuming vs. creating.

for every hour you scroll, spend two hours making your own shit.

notice when you’re seeking inspiration vs. avoiding your own ideas.

because most of the time, you’re not looking for inspiration. you’re looking for permission. or distraction. or an excuse not to start.

4. the proof folder (for self-influence)

screenshot your own wins. not other people’s.

save evidence of times YOU influenced yourself to act. times you created something. times you showed up. times you did the thing even when you didn’t feel like it.

review this when you’re tempted to scroll for inspiration.

because the proof that you can do it? it’s already in your phone.

the invitation

in 2026, become your own influencer.

influence your damn self.

stop waiting for someone else’s post to make you feel motivated. stop scrolling for permission to start. stop letting other people’s energy drown out your own.

log off social media. log into your own life.

because the most inspirational thing you’ll ever see is YOU—actually doing the thing. actually showing up. actually living the life you were called here to live.

and if you missed Part 1 (”why you DON’T need to become a new person in 2026 or a re-brand”), check that out too.

i’m rooting for you girl.

happy new year!

you can’t be the hero and the victim.

you’ve got to pick a side.

you cannot be the person screaming from the rooftops that you want to change your life AND the person complaining about what someone did to you, how it’s unfair for people like you, how the odds are stacked against you.

pick a team, girl.

because if you’re going to be the victim, that road is easy. everyone travels that road. blaming every bump, every pothole, every uphill battle on everyone but themselves.

there’s always an excuse. always a reason why they can’t. plenty of ways to keep yourself stuck and miserable.

OR if you’re going to be the hero of your story, get ready to battle. this road is the least traveled. it takes the most courage. not everyone chooses the hard thing.

and i know because i’ve sat in both seats.

when i was the victim

my husband and i started actively trying for a baby in March 2024.

and we learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to be as straightforward as we hoped.

what started as a cutesy date night with planned sex to conceive became a long, long, long process that hit its peak in 2025.

in the process of all the fertility stuff, i found out that i may be on the PCOS spectrum. yes, that’s literally what multiple doctors said to me—but none could confirm because i don’t have the three main symptoms (facial hair, irregular cycles, cystic acne). but on an ultrasound, my ovaries do appear a bit cystic.

girl, whatever that means. confusing, right?

well, being the data-driven learner that i am, i took a huge deep dive into this “hypothetical diagnosis.” i read about diet, exercise, teas, supplements, home remedies. you name it, i tried it.

we ended up going through an IVF process that, unfortunately, has not been successful yet. (claiming the victory in 2026, though.)

and in this journey, i had to take a ton of hormones. so many shots. so many meds. so many procedures.

it made me gain a bunch of weight. my face broke out like i was a 12-year-old who just started her period. my body could not regulate itself.

all the synthetic hormones sent me over the edge. my mood was all over the place.

and for a while—even after we stopped all procedures to take a break—i wore this experience like a badge.

i placed myself right in the victim seat.

i felt like i had an excuse. like i had earned the right to be angry, to be lazy, to sit on the couch and not take care of myself anymore.

i took an Oscar-worthy masterclass in being the victim of my circumstance.

and what were the results?

more weight. more depression. more fear. more worry. more stress. more sadness.

i blamed everyone around me. i even blamed God.

the moment i got sick and tired

you know the saying, “i’m sick and tired”?

well, honey, you know you’ve come to a new low when you get TIRED of being sick and tired.

one day, i saw myself in the mirror. i mean, really saw myself.

i glanced, and then i walked over right in front of the mirror where my nose was touching the glass. and i looked directly into my eyes.

it was deeply and profoundly uncomfortable. i felt naked. i felt seen. i felt exposed.

i saw myself for the first time in months. this was around August of this year.

i saw all my hurt. all my pain. and most importantly, all my BLAME.

i was blaming everyone else for how i felt, for how i looked, for what was staring back at me.

i stood there for a good five minutes.

and then i walked away. i cried. i prayed and i cried. i prayed some more. and then finally, i cried myself to sleep.

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the shift

the next day, i woke up renewed.

i don’t know what happened. i don’t know if God worked a miracle and answered my prayers overnight. but i woke up hopeful. hopeful and empowered.

i felt like i could actually do something about the way i felt, about the way i looked.

i took out my journal. i opened to a new page and divided it in half.

on one side, i wrote “old me.” on the other side, i wrote “future me.”

on the “old me” side, i wrote exactly how i was feeling the day before. how i felt about my body. how i felt about my mind. my fertility. my spirit. my soul. all of it. i went deep.

and on the “future me” side, i put pen to paper... and i found it hard to write.

i didn’t know what to put.

so i paused. i laid back down. i closed my eyes. and i visualized the brightest version of me.

my mind became quiet enough to paint a new picture. the future me. the healed me. the beautiful, vibrant, smiling me.

i found myself crying again as i lay there with my eyes closed. but this time, it was coming from a place of joy. of power. of optimism.

see, i shifted in that moment from being the victim. i saw myself as someone who could change. who could bring forth the full version of the woman i’d buried over the last year.

i opened my eyes. i grabbed the pen. and i wrote affirmations on the “future me” side:

1. i am creating the future of my dreams right now

2. i am exactly where i am supposed to be

3. everything is working out for my good

4. my mind is under my control

5. i am powerful beyond anything outside of myself

6. i am magnetic

7. i am the exception to every rule

8. i get everything that is meant for me

9. i attract good things all day, every day

10. i am a highly sought-after entrepreneur who is always receiving new opportunities daily

11. i am an incredible, loving wife

12. i am an incredible, loving mother to our twins—a boy and a girl

13. i am a powerful manifestor; everything i believe comes true immediately, and i receive it in God’s timing

14. God loves partnering with me because i use everything he gives me

after that, i tore the page in half down the middle. i crumbled up the “old me” side. i grabbed a lighter. and i went to the backyard and burned that paper up.

chile.

it was in that moment i knew i had already changed my life.

i stepped out of the victim seat. and i got back into the driver seat.

you can be both—just not at the same time

here’s the truth: you can be hurt, defeated, or disappointed by what happened AND still choose to be the hero of what happens next.

bad things DO happen. real harm exists. systemic barriers are real. trauma is real. pain is real.

and none of that negates your power to choose what you do NOW.

being the hero doesn’t mean pretending nothing bad happened. it doesn’t mean “just get over it” or “stop complaining.”

it means: i acknowledge what happened. and i still choose to move forward.

the victim seat is comfortable because it absolves you of responsibility. it gives you a reason to stay stuck. it lets you off the hook.

but the hero seat? that requires you to take the wheel even when you didn’t cause the crash.

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the choice you make every morning

changing your life is a daily choice.

before your foot hits the ground, you’ve got to choose which version of yourself you’re going to be for the day.

and not only do you HAVE to—you GET to.

that, my friend, is the biggest privilege of a lifetime. you get to choose.

remember: in 2026, you have free will and can really do whatever TF you wanna do.

honestly, it is only you stopping you.

so here’s my question: which seat are you sitting in right now?

are you blaming? making excuses? staying stuck because it feels safer than stepping into your power?

or are you ready to burn the old story and write a new one?

the practice

if you’re ready to shift from victim to hero, here’s what you do:

1. see yourself. really see yourself. stand in front of a mirror. look yourself in the eyes. witness your own pain, blame, and hurt. don’t look away.

2. divide the page. take out your journal. draw a line down the middle. on one side: “old me.” on the other: “future me.”

3. write the truth. on the “old me” side, write how you’re feeling right now. all of it. the hurt, the blame, the excuses. go deep.

4. visualize the hero. close your eyes. see the brightest, most powerful version of you. what does she believe? how does she move? what does she know to be true?

5. write the affirmations. on the “future me” side, write what SHE knows. write it as “i am,” not “i will be.”

6. burn the old story. rip the page in half. crumble up the “old me” side. burn it. let it go.

7. step into the driver seat. you just chose hero. now act like it.

you get to be the full version of who you ALREADY are in 2026, you just have to choose her. and, she deserves it sis.

you know i told y’all about leaving my $200k job back in February.

what i didn’t tell you is that i’ve been fighting the urge to go back all year.

it’s been a constant mental battle. and not because i miss the work. but because there’s a familiar comfort there that my mind over-romanticizes when things get hard.

the LARGE check every two weeks. the healthcare benefits. the perks in the office. the familiar way of life: tap in at 9am, be miserable through 12pm, take a lunch, hop back in at 1 or 2ish, bullshit for the rest of the day in meetings and on Pinterest until my time is up at 5pm.

that’s the familiar comfort i’ve thought about going back to.

and here’s the thing: i’ve done this dance before.

i’ve left jobs. i’ve started side hustles. and i’ve run back to what i know when it became too uncomfortable.

because the truth is—we will choose the familiar, even when it makes us miserable, because in some weird way, there’s comfort there.

the rationalization trap

before i left my job, i used to tell myself i was being responsible.

“other people would dream to be in your situation.”

“you should be grateful.”

“this is what security looks like.”

there was a level of rationalization i used to downplay my real dreams and over-romanticize the miserable life i had created.

and that’s what makes familiar misery so dangerous. it doesn’t feel like a choice. it feels like wisdom. like maturity. like the smart thing to do.

but really? it’s just fear dressed up as practicality.

why we run back

here’s what i’ve learned: the phenomenon of returning to unhealthy but comforting things involves nostalgia as a coping mechanism, emotional attachment, and something psychologists call repetition compulsion—where familiar negative patterns feel safer than the unknown, even if they cause pain.

it’s driven by the brain’s reward system seeking dopamine from known cues.

translation? your brain would rather have predictable suffering than unpredictable freedom.

because at least with the suffering, you know what to expect. you know how to survive it. you’ve done it before.

but the unknown? that requires a different kind of courage.

and here’s what nobody tells you: it takes more courage to step into the unknown and STAY there than it does to run back into your old life and ask to be welcomed back in.

running back is easy. staying gone is the hard part.

the cost of choosing familiar

so what does it cost you to stay in the familiar just because it’s a “misery” you know?

everything.

the longer we stay in the familiar, the longer we delay our dream life. the longer we delay our spirit and our energy from being free, open, and happy.

the familiar breeds contempt when it isn’t what we really want.

and i know this because i’ve lived it. i’ve stayed in jobs, relationships, patterns, habits that felt comfortable but were slowly killing me.

and every time i ran back, i told myself it was the responsible choice. the safe choice. the right choice.

but really, i was just choosing misery i could predict over joy i couldn’t control.

what staying in the unknown looks like

so here i am. almost a year out from leaving that job.

and staying in the unknown looks like this:

creating this newsletter every week. working with my 1:1 coaching clients. helping other women get the fuck out of their own way and step into their power.

it means unknown money. highs and lows mentally. uncertainty about what’s next.

but it also means creative expression. freedom of time. control of my energy on a day-to-day basis.

it means hope and possibility daily—not dread and misery.

and yeah, some days i still think about going back. some days the familiar calls my name and whispers, “it wasn’t that bad. at least you knew what to expect.”

but here’s what i know now: the life you hate will always feel more comfortable than the life you want—until you give the life you want enough time to become familiar too.

so here’s my question for you

what familiar misery are you choosing right now?

what job, relationship, pattern, habit are you staying in—not because it’s good for you, but because it’s known?

and what’s it costing you?

because here’s the truth: you’re not stuck. you’re just more afraid of the unknown than you are of being miserable.

and i get it. the unknown is terrifying. it doesn’t come with a paycheck or benefits or a roadmap.

but it also doesn’t come with the slow suffocation of living a life you don’t actually want.

hear me out

if you’re standing at the edge of leaving something familiar—a job, a city, a relationship, a version of yourself—and you’re scared to jump, let me tell you something:

the fear of the unknown is temporary. the regret of staying is permanent.

and yeah, you might run back. you might try the unknown and decide it’s too hard and retreat to what you know.

i’ve done it. most people do.

but the difference between people who change their lives and people who don’t isn’t that they’re braver or smarter or more capable.

it’s that they stayed in the unknown long enough for it to become familiar.

and if staying in the unknown feels delusional? good.

that means you’re doing it right.

because here’s the thing: The Delusional Method isn’t about ignoring reality. it’s about choosing a different one.

when you stay in the unknown even when your brain is screaming at you to go back, when you keep showing up even when you have no proof it’s going to work, when you believe in the life you’re building before you can see it—that’s not delusion.

that’s the method.

believe. act. persist. expand. repeat.

so if you need to rationalize your decision to leave, don’t call it reckless or irresponsible. call it what it is: a proven method you’re using to change your life.

because staying in the familiar might feel safe, but choosing the unknown? that’s how you become someone new.

so if you’re going to leave, leave.

and when it gets hard—and it will—don’t run back.

stay.

stay in the discomfort. stay in the uncertainty. stay in the version of you that’s still figuring it out.

because on the other side of that? there’s a life you don’t have to rationalize or romanticize or apologize for.

there’s a life that’s actually yours.

and if you’re still in the familiar misery, no judgment. just know: you don’t have to stay there forever.

with love,

JustKreasha

these 2026 rebrands are all over my timeline and honestly, for the first time ever, i don’t want a “new version” of me. i don’t want an upgraded me, a healed-up me, or some reinvented me that takes twenty-seven steps to maintain. i just want to be myself in 2026.

just kreasha.

i were at intero in east austin this past wednesday, having dinner with my girlfriends—the kind of conversation where you’re halfway through your meal and suddenly nobody’s eating anymore because you’re all too busy saying the quiet part out loud. we started talking about what we actually wanted. how we were over corporate life. how jobs suck (more on that later). how we were tired of performing. tired of being “on.” tired of trying to become versions of ourselves we weren’t even sure we wanted.

and then i said it out loud, maybe for the first time with this much clarity:

“i just want to be kreasha. and i want that to be enough.” i want to get paid to be her. i want to inspire other women by being her. i want to drop all the labels and identities i’ve used to survive, and just… be kreasha. because deep down, i know that’s more than enough. that’s actually where all my power is. and the wild part? they all nodded. and then they admitted they wanted the same thing—to stop performing and start existing. to stop becoming and start being. that moment stuck with me. i knew i had to write about it.

because here’s what happened when i got home that night:

i opened my notes app to start my 2026 goal list. you know the one—the same list i’ve been recycling for five years. lose weight. build the business. hit six figures. be more consistent. wake up earlier. be more disciplined. become the woman who— and then i stopped. because i realized i have never once written, “be the best version of myself now, in the present moment.” it has always been about the future me. the fixed me. the perfected me. never the me who is sitting here right now, trying, showing up, figuring it out, being enough exactly as she is.

and let me tell you what the constant rebranding has cost me.

it’s exhausting. it’s insufferable. it’s wrapped in misery and drenched in “not enoughness.” i want no parts of it anymore. not the future version i keep promising i’ll become. not the past version people still expect. i want the real, present-tense me—the one who exists right here without the glitter, without the hustle, without the pressure. and even though that sounds simple, it feels like rebellion. because we are constantly blasted with content telling us who we should want to be—more money, more disciplined, more beautiful, more desirable, more magnetic, more “that girl.” none of it is inherently bad, but somewhere along the way, we stopped asking what it means to simply be who we already are.

so i’ve been sitting with this question:

what if the real rebrand for 2026 is stepping into the woman you are right now? what if instead of chasing another evolution, you finally gave the present version of yourself the space to breathe? we spend so much time trying to be everywhere except where our feet are. we romanticize the next version, the future version, the “once i fix this about myself” version. meanwhile, the you who has been showing up every single day rarely gets any credit. she shows up tired, hopeful, scared, stretching, praying, pushing, loving, and learning—and nobody pauses to acknowledge her. not even you. and maybe that’s the whole issue.

because what if the most radical thing you could do in 2026 is finally see her?

what if she doesn’t need to lose weight first, or perfect her makeup, or get the title, or get the money, or find the man, or build the routine? what if she doesn’t need to be “improved” at all? what if all she needs is for you to choose her? to see her exactly as she is and call that enough? to put a little respeck on her name because she has been here, holding everything together, while year after year you announce a new version of yourself—as if who you are right now could never be worthy of the life you want.

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but what if—and stay with me

what if the boldest, sexiest, most magnetic, most audacious version of you has been here the entire time? what if the you that other people would fall in love with, root for, follow, or feel inspired by isn’t a version you need to build… but a version you need to uncover? maybe 2026 isn’t about adding more. maybe the magic is in peeling things back. maybe it’s about stripping away the noise, the pressure, the expectations, and the roles you picked up along the way until you reach the core of who you’ve always been. maybe the secret sauce is less, not more. less striving. less performing. less pretending you’re behind. less apologizing for where you are. more presence. more truth. more self-trust. more you.

so here’s what i’m doing

i’m changing all my social media to @justkreasha. it’s a commitment. a declaration. a line in the sand. i’ve been thinking about making it my theme, my mantra for 2026: i am just kreasha. that is all. nothing more, nothing less. and i’m putting all my power into showing up fully as her—not to become someone new, but to honor who i already am. and what does that look like? it looks like living every moment fully and presently. not saving the outfit. not playing myself down. not shrinking. it looks like shifting my language—no more “i want to” or “the life i desire.” it’s “i currently” and “i am.” instead of creating a vision board with a future version of me, i’m creating one with the present version of me. choosing now. not later. not once i fix something. not when i feel ready. now. and when i made that decision, something cracked open. i felt free. i felt honest. i felt worthy. and for the first time, i felt like who i am right now is more than enough.

so maybe the 2026 rebrand isn’t a rebrand at all.

maybe it’s a reawakening. a remembering. a coming home to yourself after years of thinking you had to leave who you are in order to become who you want to be. this is your permission to stop ignoring the woman in front of you. to give her the love she’s been starving for. to honor her. to let her lead. and to trust, deeply, that she is not just enough—she is everything.

welcome home, babe.

signed,

@justkreasha

if this felt align you it could feel good to check out part 2: how to influence yourself in 2026

8 weeks ago, i would’ve told you i’m not a runner.

last week, on thanksgiving I ran 5 miles in a race. by myself. and crushed my goal time.

the only thing that changed? one thought.

i told myself for years that i could not run. that i hated running. that running was not for me.

i literally never even tried. i was just... convinced.

and that conviction kept me stuck.

it kept me from joining run clubs. kept me from taking fitness classes that included running. kept me from expanding my cardio and getting my VO2 max up.

all because of one thought i never questioned.

the power of thoughts

here’s what most people don’t understand: your thoughts create your feelings. your feelings create emotions. and those emotions reinforce the original thought.

it’s a cycle. and when it’s negative, it keeps you locked in place.

i learned this from Dr. Joe Dispenza’s book Becoming Supernatural. he talks about how when you change a thought, you literally change your brain chemistry. your body doesn’t know the difference between a thought you’re thinking and what’s actually happening.

so if you keep thinking “i’m not a runner,” your body believes it. your feelings confirm it. and you stay stuck in that reality.

but here’s the thing: by simply changing one thought, you change everything.

you change how you feel. which changes your emotions. which creates new actions.

it’s simple. but it’s not easy.

because to change a thought, you first have to question it.

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the sunday that changed everything

there was a sunday i wanted to go for my usual hot girl walk. you know, always aiming for that 10k step goal.

my husband decided to join me.

for context: he’s a former collegiate runner. junior olympics track & field kid. overall athletic guy.

he said, “what if we tried a run/walk situation? run for 1 minute 30 seconds, walk for 2 minutes. we do that for the entire 4 miles.”

and in that moment, my old thought came up:

i’m not a runner. i never will be. and honestly, i’m annoyed that you would join me on this walk just to ask if we can run.

but there we were.

and honestly, the competitive side of me saw it as a challenge.

for a slight second, i questioned the thought.

i questioned it so much that… just like a snap of a finger… I went from YEARS of “i am not a runner” to:

well... maybe.

what if i could?

what would that look like?

why not just try it?

and before i knew it, i was running.

unlocking a new character

it was slow at first. but as we got to round 5 and 6, i was picking up my pace.

i could literally feel the confidence growing in my belly. i could feel the old thought slipping away. and the feelings and emotions that came with it? they started slipping away too.

before i knew it, a new thought had emerged.

it wasn’t fully baked. it wasn’t steady. it was wobbly and uncertain.

but it was there:

what if i could be a runner?

i think i had what they call a “runner’s high.” i felt so good. like i’d burst through an old belief system. like i’d accomplished something that felt immovable before.

so i committed. one 4-mile run/walk per week. just once. in addition to my pilates classes 3x a week.

and slowly, y’all... i started to like it.

i started to LIKE running.

and not only did i start to like it, i started competing with myself on timing. i wanted every run to be a little faster.

and it was. every week.

the 3-mile moment

then came the day my husband said, “alright, now it’s time for you to run 3 miles straight. no stopping.”

and that felt like the BIGGEST thing.

i literally argued with him in the car before we got out to run. i convinced him i could only do 1 mile.

it’s funny how we sometimes fight to keep our own self-imposed limitations.

so we got out of the car and started running.

and once we reached that 1-mile mark, i felt good. so i kept going.

i told myself: okay, just a little longer. you can do 1.5.

before i knew it… with my mind, my thoughts, my self-belief… I hit 3 miles.

i literally went from not running at all for 10 years to running 3 miles straight.

and that was it.

that’s when i knew the thought had shifted.

because i felt different. i didn’t just believe i could run. i wanted to run. i wanted to get better.

i started looking into runner’s sneakers. run clubs. races.

it was over. i had unlocked a new character:

kreasha the runner.

the turkey trot

i took on this new thought, this new belief, this new identity so fully that i signed up for the Turkey Trot here in Austin.

it’s a 5-mile race that thousands of people run on thanksgiving morning. apparently, it’s a big deal.

i convinced my mom and one of my best friends to do it with me.

they BOTH flaked.

so i ran it by myself.

and it was the most magical, most fulfilling experience.

it was my first time racing. my first time running 5 miles ever.

i ran it nonstop. and i ran under my goal time of 12 minutes per mile. i averaged 11:34 per mile.

i was so proud of myself. so accomplished.

just 8 weeks earlier, if you’d asked me if i liked running, i would’ve said: hell no. absolutely not.

8 weeks later, i was running the turkey trot by myself in downtown Austin on thanksgiving day.

you’re one thought away

wow.

i say all this to remind you: you’re one thought away from becoming someone you never thought you could be.

changing one thought can change your entire life.

it’s simple. it’s not complicated.

change the way you think, and it will change the way you feel.

change the way you feel, and it will change the way you act.

change what you do, and honey? you are CHANGING your life.

it all starts in the mind.

this is what i mean when i talk about The Delusional Method. it’s not just about believing big, wild things.

it’s about questioning the small, quiet thoughts that have been keeping you stuck.

it’s about asking: what if i could?

and then taking one step, one run, to find out.

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so here’s my question for you

what’s the one thing you’ve been avoiding because you’ve convinced yourself you can’t do it?

what’s the thought you’ve been carrying for years that you’ve never questioned?

i’m not creative.
i’m not good with money.
i can’t start a business.
i’m not a runner.

what if you questioned it? just once?

what if you tried? just to see?

because the version of you who does that thing, who becomes that person, is only one thought away.

this week, try something you’ve been avoiding.

not because you’re suddenly confident. but because you’re willing to question the thought that’s been keeping you stuck.

and watch what happens.

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it’s delusional until it happens. happy holidays.

no one talks about how to be a “good” friend.

for most people, i think there’s an assumption that it just comes naturally.

maybe it does for them. but for me? i’ve never really known how.

there have been relationships i really wanted to stay in my life that drifted away. friendships that went really deep, and then... silence. mostly on my end.

friendships that abruptly ended with no conclusion or reasoning.

and then there’s this saying we all hear: “how you do one thing is how you do everything.”

remember how i mentioned in a previous newsletter that the old version of me used to start and stop a lot of projects, businesses, endeavors?

well. it’s kind of been the same with my friendships.

hot or cold

i struggle to stay in a surface-level friendship. i struggle to stay in a distant friendship. i struggle to stay in a lukewarm friendship.

it’s either hot or cold over here, honey.

and i guess that can be a good thing. but as i’ve gotten older, i now see it as a rigid and unforgiving way to navigate friendships.

here’s my pattern:

i meet someone. we go deep fast. i’m all in. texting daily. sharing everything. feeling seen.

and then... i pull back.

i let texts sit for days. calls go unreturned. the connection fades.

not because i don’t care. but because i feel like i’m unable to meet them where they are emotionally. so instead of saying that, i just... disappear.

self-sabotage. again.

the friendship that still hurts

there was a friend i had since college.

she deeply valued her birthday. always went above and beyond. so i made an effort to always be available for her birthday, no matter what. even if i had to travel in.

there was a season where our communication was bare. few and far between. but around her birthday, i would always reach out.

because in my eyes, that was how i demonstrated i was a good friend. i showed up. i did the things. even when it made me uncomfortable, i stayed.

come to find out, a few months later, we had a pretty intense conversation.

what she brought up: how i never reached out. how i never called. how i never checked in.

from my perspective, i felt like she treated our friendship the same way. i literally never heard from her.

but she felt i was emotionally unavailable.

and... she was right.

i probably was. and because i didn’t know any better, i didn’t show up. although i thought showing up for birthdays meant i was.

after that conversation, the friendship just kind of... ended.

out of nowhere. no closure. no repair. just silence.

and it hurt.

the cost

here’s what i’m realizing now:

by keeping friendships at arm’s length, by going hot then cold, by disappearing when things get real, i’m missing out on the very thing i need most.

a safe space to land when things get hard.

connection.

right now, i feel lonely. i have very few true friends outside of my husband. and that’s a direct result of how i’ve been showing up, or not showing up in my friendships.

you can’t build deep connections if you don’t trust yourself to stay.

and the truth is: i’m afraid to go all-in on friendships because i don’t trust myself to stay.

i’ve always found some distance. some reason to pull back. some way to protect myself from the vulnerability of being fully seen and fully committed.

where this started

i wondered to myself: where did this all start?

and i’m reminded of the women in my life.

similar to how you can grow up never witnessing a healthy, strong marriage and as a result, when you get married, you may not know what it looks like to be a “good” wife, a supportive wife, what if you never witnessed healthy female friendships?

what if the only thing you saw was a hardworking single mother passing through broken partnerships, looking for love and acceptance along the way?

there’s a popular book called The Body Keeps the Score that talks about this very thing. Bessel van der Kolk writes about how trauma can be transmitted across generations through behavioral and relational patterns.

parents who have unresolved trauma may pass it down through parenting styles, attachment patterns, and the emotional environment they create. traumatized parents might be hypervigilant, emotionally unavailable, or recreate traumatic dynamics with their children.

which all makes so much sense when i think about how i was raised and what i witnessed.

i was never taught, or even shown what it looks like to have healthy, strong relationships with other women.

my grandmother wasn’t surrounded by friends. my mother didn’t have very many “good” friends. maybe because she never saw it in her household either.

and no, this is not me blaming. just explaining.

how do we know how to do something we’ve never truly seen?

what i’m doing differently

as i’ve been navigating this, building intentional, deep connections with more women around me, showing up, checking in, holding space. i’ve realized:

in order to have a good friend, you have to be a good friend.

and although i was never taught it, and i didn’t witness it growing up, i’ve learned that love is love.

telling someone you care about them. you miss them. you’re sorry. you forgive them. you want them in your life.

that’s probably the most vulnerable and honest way to be a “good” friend.

these deep emotions aren’t just held for romantic partnerships. our friendships deserve them too.

and if i’m honest, i’ve never really given my girls my full self. maybe out of fear that i won’t be caught if i truly fall deeply in love with my friendships.

well. it’s a new day, and i’m trying something different.

friendship ICAs

i’m applying the same framework i use for everything else: Identity Confirming Activities.

because the version of me who has deep, lasting friendships? she doesn’t ghost her people. she doesn’t let texts sit for days. she doesn’t pull back when things get real.

so here’s what i’m committing to:

weekly voicenotes – checking in, sharing life, staying connected even when we’re busy

monthly in-person meetups – coffee, dinner, walks, showing up in real life, not just online

check-in updates sent weekly – letting my people know they’re on my mind, that i’m thinking of them

these aren’t just tasks. they’re proof that i’m becoming the friend i say i want to be.

the invitation

today, i’m starting by reaching out to the women who are important to me. letting them know they are. telling them how much i want them in my life.

i’m also opening myself up to new friendships. the opportunity to dive deep and remain deep with some intentional, aligned women.

so here’s my question for you:

where are you self-sabotaging your friendships?

are you going hot then cold? letting connections fade because you’re afraid you can’t meet people where they are?

are you keeping things surface-level because going deeper feels too vulnerable?

and if so: what would it look like to commit to staying?

not just showing up for birthdays. but showing up in the small, quiet, everyday moments. the texts. the calls. the “i’m thinking about you.”

because you can’t build your dream life with surface-level friendships.

and you can’t expect deep connections if you don’t trust yourself to stay.

and if you’ve been that friend who disappears, send this to someone you’ve been meaning to reach out to.

maybe today’s the day you do.

happy monday.

remember when i told you about Identity Confirming Activities (ICAs)?

the daily actions that prove you’re already the woman you say you’re becoming?

well, here’s what nobody talks about: ICAs aren’t just tasks. they’re also the objects you choose. (links the objects I am choosing follows below)

i was looking around my bathroom a few months ago and i noticed something.

i either didn’t have the things i actually needed, or the things i was buying matched the old version of me—the one who prioritized price over substance, quality, and effectiveness.

that version of me shopped from scarcity. she looked at price tags and had visceral reactions. she told herself “i can’t afford this” or “i’m not good enough for this yet.”

and then i heard something that changed the way i saw everything.

it was an audio from Abraham Hicks. she said: if you see something you love or know would be good for you, and then you look at the price and have a visceral reaction, you’ve found your problem.

because that reaction? it blocks you from receiving. it tells the universe “i don’t deserve this. i’m not ready for this.”

and what you put into the universe comes back to you. so that becomes your exact truth.

versus seeing the price and smiling. feeling worthy. knowing that in due time, you’ll be able to buy it for yourself—or it will come to you when you least expect it.

that shifted everything for me.

this new version of me values quality over price. and the joy it brings me over the scarcity of the price.

the woman you’re becoming doesn’t shop like the woman you were.

she doesn’t shop as her past self or even her future self.

she shops as the woman she IS. right now.

your environment is proof

because the woman who believes she’s worth investing in? she doesn’t use whatever’s cheapest or most convenient.

she curates her environment—including what touches her body—to match who she’s becoming.

when you invest in the deodorant that works for your active lifestyle, you’re confirming: i am someone who moves my body daily and still feels fresh.

when you spend money on skincare that actually works, you’re confirming: i am someone who invests in my long-term health.

when you take time to moisturize every inch of your body, you’re confirming: i am soft, cared for, and worth slowing down for.

these aren’t just routines. they’re identity confirming activities.

what’s working for me right now

so today, i’m sharing the objects that have been confirming my identity over the last few weeks.

not because you need to buy these exact things. but because i want you to see how the woman i’m becoming shows up in the choices i make.

for the woman who moves her body and still smells like a million bucks

identity: i am someone who works out 6x a week and takes care of my body without compromise.

i’m a wellness girl lowkey. and i’ve been on a journey trying to find natural deodorants that actually work.

most natural options failed me. because i’m the girl in the gym, on walks, at reformer pilates, in SoulCycle all week. sweat and i are best friends.

but i recently started using Saltair Serum Deodorant. she’s not the cleanest option out there, but she doesn’t have aluminum and has AHA which helps with underarm darkness (for my melanin girls).

and most importantly? she works.

the ICA: choosing a deodorant that supports my active lifestyle instead of settling for what doesn’t work is me confirming: i am someone who moves her body as she pleases and still feels confident afterward.

for the woman who invests in her skin health

identity: i am someone who takes care of my skin, even when it requires patience and investment.

my skin has been problematic my entire life. and here recently, it’s been screaming at me to slow down and dedicate more time to it.

i’ve had some of the worst breakouts of my life in 2025.

my savior? marie veronique. i know, i know—it’s pricey. but i promise it’s worth it.

i bought a trio that changed the game: Clarifying Oil, Control Serum, Soothing B3 Serum.

my routine:

• wash with good molecules bar

• tone with good molecules toner

• soothing b3 serum (if i had to choose ONE marie veronique product to start with, it’s this—it restored my skin barrier)

• control serum

• clarifying oil

• supergoop sunscreen

it works. and it’s teaching me that investing in myself isn’t frivolous—it’s foundational.

sidenote: now i need to work on my blemishes. thinking about trying KIEHL’s dark spot corrector. have you tried it? let me know.

the ICA: spending money on products that actually work instead of cheap options that don’t is me confirming: i am someone who values my long-term health over short-term convenience.

for the woman who treats her body like it matters

identity: i am soft, cared for, and intentional about how i feel in my own skin.

i’ve also been dealing with bacne recently (shoutout to stress and hormones). so i’m using Panoxyl to wash my back every day in the shower with a shower brush. we’ll see how it goes.

in the shower, i’m using:

• native body wash

• billie razor & shaving cream

pro tip: if you’re shaving anywhere—but especially your lady parts—exfoliate first with a scrub. it pulls the hair follicles forward for a cleaner shave and fewer razor bumps. and use men’s shaving cream (the really thick kind) on that area specifically. i learned this from a stripper on tiktok. no joke.

outside the shower:

• cashmere eos butter cream – my husband can’t get enough of it, but most importantly, it makes me feel soft and moisturized.

the ICA: taking time to care for every part of my body—not just what people see—is me confirming: i am someone who feels good in my own skin, even when no one’s watching.

for the woman who carries memories and magic with her

identity: i am someone who travels, experiences life fully, and brings the best parts of those moments with me everywhere i go.

perfume used to be an afterthought for me. whatever was at target, whatever was on sale.

but now? i choose scents that remind me of who i was in my most alive moments.

OroNardo Xinū (no. 5) – i first experienced this in Mexico City. the store is a literal sensory wonderland, and the moment i tried this perfume, i had to have it. i haven’t stopped wearing it since.

it reminds me of Mexico City and all of its charm. i felt really sexy there for some reason. confident. magnetic.

EAU TRIPLE KOMI FOREST – i got this in Paris. it’s such a sweet and unique fragrance. it reminds me of freedom.

my husband and i roamed Paris for 10 days with no agenda and had the best time. i love travel, and this scent brings me back to that feeling every single time.

the ICA: choosing perfumes that remind me of my most alive moments instead of whatever’s convenient is me confirming: i am someone who lives fully and carries that aliveness with me.

and if you’re over 25, you need to be wearing cotton panties. why? because the chemicals in cute polyester undies are absorbed by your skin, and the lack of breathability traps sweat and moisture, leading to irritation, infections, and rashes.

i wear cotton thongs from target or when i want to splurge, huha.

so here’s my question for you

what does the next-level version of you use? wear? surround herself with?

because the objects you choose are identity confirming activities too.

the version of you who works out regularly? she has workout clothes that make her feel good.

the version of you who’s calm and grounded? she has a morning routine with products that slow her down.

the version of you who’s worth investing in? she doesn’t settle for what’s cheap or convenient.

she chooses what matches who she’s becoming.

your turn

look around your space right now. your bathroom. your closet. your kitchen.

what’s one object you could upgrade or replace that would confirm the identity you’re stepping into?

and if you want the full breakdown of Identity Confirming Activities (ICAs), check out my recent newsletter: “You Are Not Fooling Anyone But Yourself.”

I’m happy you’re here. if this felt valuable to you it’s free to subscribe.

once you realize no one really knows what they’re doing and we’re all just trying to figure it out, you start to take the pressure off yourself.

BUT.

i think there comes a point where you take a little too much pressure off at the expense of “we’re all just winging it.”

because here’s the truth: winging it can become an excuse to quit when things get hard.

and i would know.

the method

let me remind you how The Delusional Method works:

believe. act. persist. expand. repeat.

before being “delulu” was a thing, i’ve always been pretty delusional. i’ve always had wild belief in myself. so step one? that’s always been a breeze for me.

and with that self-belief, once i get to step two—act—i’ve never hesitated. i’m serious. like never.

here’s a list of all the things i believed i could do... and i did:

• fashion stylist (during college)

• personal stylist (senior year)

• fashion blogger (after college)

• subscription box startup founder (Thrift Outside the Box)

• nonprofit for teen girls founder (The Wantabes)

• interior designer

• home goods e-commerce founder

• journal e-commerce/live event company

• content creator (landed sponsorships)

• tech worker

• tech leader

and honey, i’m missing a few things.

when it comes to belief? i got it.

when it comes to the will to act? i got it.

but when we get to step three? persist?

that i do not have.

or i should say: i have not developed this skill yet.

the self-sabotage queen

i need to be transparent with you.

i start and stop a lot of things. persistence has not been my strong suit.

the thing about it is: i tend to lose excitement with all the things. when they’re fresh, hot off the press, i find myself diving in, obsessed.

and then once i launch it and it gets some sort of traction?

i stop.

every time.

i’ve done this over and over again, and i’ve had to ask myself: why is that?

i’ve done the work. i’ve done the research. and i’ve learned that i have a fear of success.

the wantabes

let me tell you about one that still haunts me.

right after i graduated college, i started a nonprofit called The Wantabes—a teen girl advocacy organization that helped teen girls become exactly who they wanted to be.

it performed well. like, really well.

we had over 1,000 teens around Austin sign up. we held a full conference. we spoke at different campuses around the city. we partnered with Dell Children’s Medical Center and held a photoshoot for kids diagnosed with cancer.

it was growing quickly. momentum was building.

and that’s when i convinced myself to stop.

i told myself:

• i didn’t know how to keep recruiting new girls

• the girls we were working with were about to graduate

• i couldn’t keep it up

• i didn’t really know how to run a nonprofit

• i had just created it as a hobby

i started turning down partnership requests. i let opportunities slip.

i remember the email from Dell Children’s asking if we wanted to expand the program to three more hospitals.

i stared at it for a week.

then i just... never responded.

i ghosted the very thing i’d built.

and when i look back now, i can see it so clearly:

you don’t fear failure. you fear what happens if you actually succeed.

the fear of success

here’s what most people don’t understand about fear of success:

it’s not about being humble or self-aware or “keeping it real.”

it’s about being afraid that success is going to require more of you than you can give.

it’s the fear of: how will i maintain it once i finally get it?

it’s the fear of the potential stress. the overwhelm. the responsibility.

so instead of facing that fear, i found excuses.

and over the years, if there was an excuse, i had it:

• not enough money

• not enough interest

• i’m over it

• this is keeping me in a box

• the world isn’t interested in this anymore

what i was really doing was diving headfirst into self-sabotage.

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what is self-sabotage?

self-sabotage is any behavior that goes against your stated goals, often driven by underlying fears, low self-esteem, or internal conflicts.

and i have been the self-sabotage queen.

this isn’t something i’ve overcome completely. i’m bringing this to you in real time. this is something i’m actively working through.

because i’m focused on step 3 of The Delusional Method: persist.

i refuse to keep self-sabotaging the things that God has put in my hands.

i have consistently fumbled the ball.

and here’s what i’m doing to change it.

how i’m learning to persist

1. extending my commitment timeframe

the next thing i’m launching—something i’ve been praying over—i’m committed to for 12 months. an entire year.

no quitting when it gets hard. no bailing when the excitement fades. no “i’m over it” after three months.

12 months. non-negotiable.

2. setting output goals (not outcome goals)

i used to set goals that were dependent on outside factors: “get 10,000 subscribers” or “make $50k.”

but those goals made me feel powerless. because i couldn’t control them.

now i’m setting output goals—goals i can actually control:

• publish one newsletter every week

• post three pieces of content per week

• pitch five speaking engagements per month

these are things i can DO, regardless of what happens on the other side.

3. hiring a life/career coach

i hired someone. and not just anyone—someone a little expensive. expensive enough that i value the feedback and time. expensive enough that i won’t ghost the sessions.

because i need accountability. i need someone who will call me out when i start making excuses. someone who will remind me of my commitment when the sabotage urge kicks in.

4. catching the sabotage before it takes over

now when the voice comes—the one that says “you don’t know what you’re doing” or “this is too much” or “maybe this was just a hobby”—i recognize it.

i name it: that’s sabotage talking.

and i ask myself: is this true, or is this fear?

most of the time? it’s fear.

so i talk back to it.

when the voice says “you don’t know how to run this,” i answer back: “i didn’t know how to start it either, and i did that.”

when it says “this is too much,” i remind myself: “i’m not doing this alone. i have support. i have God.”

when it says “you’re going to fail,” i say: “maybe. but i’d rather fail trying than quit wondering.”

fear doesn’t get to make my decisions anymore.

so here’s my question for you

where are you self-sabotaging right now?

what thing did you start that you’re about to quit?

what excuse are you telling yourself that sounds reasonable but is actually just fear dressed up as wisdom?

maybe it’s:

• “i don’t have enough time”

• “people aren’t that interested”

• “i’m not ready yet”

• “i don’t know how to scale this”

• “maybe this was just a phase”

here’s what i want you to know:

the thing you keep stopping? that’s the thing you’re supposed to persist in.

the discomfort you feel when it starts to take off? that’s not a sign to quit. that’s a sign you’re growing.

and persistence isn’t about being perfect. it’s about showing up even when the excitement fades. even when you’re scared. even when you don’t know if you can maintain it.

because the only way to find out if you can? is to keep going.

here is what i’m doing and the invitation is open to you too…

commit to 12 months.

set output goals you can control.

get an accountability partner (or hire one).

and catch yourself when the sabotage starts whispering.

because playing small was never the assignment.

and quitting right before the breakthrough? that’s not protecting yourself. that’s robbing yourself.

so let’s do this together.

believe. act. persist. expand. repeat.

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“i don’t believe you because you do a lot of talking but no ‘doing’.”

that’s what my husband said to me.

we were sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching The Jamie Foxx Show. and once again, i was complaining. about my director. about how she had favorites. about how she got in the way of real work. about how she got to coast while i was drowning.

he turned to me, stern and direct, and said it.

“i don’t believe you.”

outwardly? i got defensive. i started listing all my reasons, validating my complaints, explaining why i was stuck.

but between me and you? girl, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

i knew i wasn’t doing what i said i was going to do. i knew i was playing small. i knew i was finding comfort in my complaints.

and at that time in my life, i wanted them.

i wanted my complaints more than a solution. i wanted the comfort of chaos. i wanted to keep all my reasons passenger side with me as i navigated life, pulling up and allowing them to speak for me.

even though now, typing this out, it sounds crazy… at that time it didn’t.

my complicated, chaotic, stressful, hectic life felt comfortable.

the luxury of staying stuck

deep down, i wanted to hold on to the luxury car, the high-paying salary, the big house, the designer bags.

because the truth was: i didn’t believe that if i let go, i could ever get back to that place again.

i was terrified that this miserable life i’d built would be the best it could get. and if i let it go, i was truly fumbling the ball.

it can feel good to keep our burdens.

i know, i know—we say we don’t want them. but the moment we go to change and there’s any discomfort, we go right back to the way we were.

because there was comfort there.

you are only fooling yourself

here’s the truth my husband’s words forced me to face:

you are not fooling anyone but yourself by saying you want to become one thing but doing the complete opposite in your actions.

if i were to watch your life visually for 24 hours without any sound, i would walk away and be able to tell anyone who you believe you are, who you see yourself as—even if your words told me differently.

your actions affirm the belief you’re carrying around every day about who you are.

you can’t want to change your life but be too afraid to let go of what was and what is to step into what could be.

so after my husband called me out, i sat with it. really sat with it.

and i thought: damn, he’s right. my actions don’t match my words.

but then i asked myself: what if they did though?

what if my actions actually confirmed who i said i wanted to be?

how would my life look? how would it change? what would i do on a daily basis?

that’s when i created something i call Identity Confirming Activities (ICAs).

and it changed everything.

what are identity confirming activities?

it’s simple.

step one of the delusional method is believe. believe you are who you say you want to be NOW.

not someday. not when you “get there.” now.

because all we ever really have is the present. what you believe right now will determine what you experience right now.

before you become a confident woman, a multimillionaire business owner, a wife, a speaker, a creative—before you become that, you have to believe you ALREADY are.

we cannot go to the past. we do not actually possess the future. all we have is NOW.

so assume the position, sis. seriously.

here’s how i did it:

i wrote down the identity i was choosing in step one of the delusional method:

• a speaker

• a teacher

• a profitable millionaire CEO

• a creative

then i made a list of all the things i believed someone who was actually that identity would do on a daily basis.

how would she dress? how would she show up? how would she spend her time? what would she eat? who would she be connected with? what circles would she be in?

and most importantly: what would be the daily tasks she prioritized from a place of KNOWING who she is?

i made that list. and then i planned out the next day.

this is step two of the delusional method: act.

belief without action is just a nice idea. but when you start ACTING like the woman you say you already are? that’s when everything shifts.

(btw, if you are not planning the next day the night before to help guide your day, remove decision fatigue, and decide who you are—you need to start doing that immediately. it’s a game changer.)

on this night, when i put pen to paper, i was writing out a new version of myself.

the version that actually believed she was who she said she was.

not the version riddled with complaints, excuses, and burdens.

my identity confirming activities

i looked at my list of the things this new version of me would do, and i planned out my day.

every single thing on that list CONFIRMED who i said i was.

here’s what i did:

a speaker builds her platform — so i put together my speaker website and started pitching speaking engagements

a teacher shares her methods — so i began writing on my Substack, sharing my practices and frameworks as a thought leader

a CEO owns her identity publicly — so i updated my LinkedIn to say “Entrepreneur, Speaker, Teacher” and introduced The Delusional Method

a creative shows up consistently — so i started making content again that taught my methods

these were my Identity Confirming Activities.

it was that simple.

what happened next

i began to feel even more inspired by the work i was putting in myself.

ideas started to flow in.

opportunities started to come in.

women began to share how The Delusional Method was helping them.

now, a common phrase you’ll hear around my household is: “have you done your ICAs today?”

“tapping in… what ICA are you working on right now?”

see, if we make it simple in this way, then the identity we are choosing chooses us.

we are putting our money where our mouth is through our daily actions.

so here’s your invitation

stop talking about who you want to be.

start doing what she would do.

that’s the only belief that matters.

write down the identity you’re choosing. then write down 5-10 things that version of you would do daily. plan tomorrow night. and wake up as her.

because you are not fooling anyone but yourself.

and it’s time to stop.

everyone says “just be authentic.”

that’s the worst advice i’ve ever heard.

no lie, authenticity culture has convinced us that who we are right now is who we’re supposed to stay.

that our current version—the one who’s tired, stuck, playing small—is the “real” us.

and that changing? evolving? becoming someone different?

that’s somehow fake.

but let me tell you something: being yourself is so overrated when the self you’re being is miserable.

the woman you are right now is not the woman you’re supposed to be.

she’s timid. she overthinks everything. she’s hesitant to start.

and if you wait around to “authentically” become the woman you’re meant to be, you’ll be waiting your whole life.

so yeah, i still believe in fake it til you make it.

not the shallow kind. the bold kind.

the kind where you refuse to wait for permission to become who you already know you are.

the photo that changed everything

i was scrolling in bed one night when i saw it.

a distant friend had posted photos from a group dinner. and there i was.

wearing a Lululemon tennis skirt. on a date night. with a dress top. and thigh-high boots.

you could see my internal confusion and disorientedness all up and through that outfit.

nothing matched. nothing made sense. nothing felt like me—or at least, not the me i wanted to be.

i stared at that photo for a full minute.

i could see the texture in my skin from not doing a skincare routine in months. i could see the hormonal imbalance from all the stress—my face was puffy, inflamed, unrecognizable.

i was wearing the same hair, the same makeup style, the same wardrobe rotation i’d had for over five years.

i looked exhausted.

not just physically. spiritually.

i looked like someone who had given up on herself and was just going through the motions.

and the wildest part? i didn’t even notice it was happening.

it was gradual. a slow fade. one skipped skincare routine. one month of wearing whatever was clean. one year of telling myself “it doesn’t matter what i look like.”

but sitting there in bed, staring at that photo, i felt two things:

disgust. and shame.

because it did matter.

every time i got dressed like i didn’t care, i was telling myself: this is who you are now.

and my brain? it believed me.

fake it til you make it is not about lying

here’s what people get wrong about “fake it til you make it.”

they think it means pretend to be someone you’re not.

but that’s not what it is.

it’s about becoming someone you aren’t RIGHT NOW.

because who you are right now—in this current moment—is not your final form.

she’s a version. and you get to choose if she’s the version you keep showing up as.

in a book i devoured this summer called Outsmarting Reality, the author Nero says: “The unfortunate thing is that when a belief has reached ‘truth’ status, it has accumulated so much energy that attempting to remove it will almost feel like insanity and stupidity.”

for so long, you’ve believed that how you show up doesn’t matter. that your outward appearance is shallow or vain or not spiritual enough.

and you’ve carried so much energy in that belief that it may seem “delusional” to change it now.

but i’m here to tell you: the fastest way to become her is to start showing up as her.

not next year. not when you lose the weight or get the promotion or feel more confident.

now.

how to step into her right now

so how do you become her as quickly as possible?

you change what she sees in the mirror.

i’m not talking about a glow-up for the gram. i’m talking about a visual reset that signals to your brain: we’re different now.

because the literal truth is your subconscious mind doesn’t understand vision boards and affirmations. it understands evidence.

and when you start showing up differently on the outside, your brain starts believing you’re different on the inside.

so here’s the plan.

operation: fake it til you make it

step 1: create the vision

open Pinterest. create a new board. call it whatever you want—”her,” “the new me,” “2026 version.”

now start pinning:

• hair that makes you feel expensive

• makeup looks that feel elevated but still like you

• outfits that make you feel like the badass you are

• nail styles that feel intentional & creative

• skincare routines that gives you a lil self care moment daily

don’t overthink it. if it makes you feel something—save it.

this isn’t about perfection. it’s about direction.

step 2: set the budget

look, i’m not telling you to drain your savings on a new wardrobe.

but i am telling you to invest something.

pick one or two areas to start with. maybe it’s:

• finally booking that hair appointment you’ve been putting off

• buying the skincare products you’ve been adding to cart for months

• getting your nails done professionally instead of doing them yourself

• ordering two new outfits that feel like her

set a realistic budget. $100. $300. whatever you can swing.

the amount doesn’t matter. the commitment does.

step 3: book the things

this is where most people stop. they save the Pinterest board and never actually do anything with it.

don’t be most people.

open your calendar right now and book:

• the hair appointment

• the nail appointment

• the facial or skincare consultation

• the shopping trip (even if it’s online)

put it in your calendar like it’s a work meeting you can’t miss.

because it is.

step 4: show up as her NOW

here’s the part that feels scary: you don’t wait until everything is “ready.”

you start showing up as her immediately.

you do your skincare routine like she would.
you get dressed in the morning like she would.
you walk into rooms like she would.

even if the hair appointment isn’t for two weeks.
even if the new clothes haven’t arrived yet.
even if you still feel like the old version.

you fake it.

and then one day, maybe a week from now, maybe a month, you look in the mirror and realize you’re not faking it anymore.

you became her.

what happened when i finally did this

y’all.

when i took the time to put some effort into how i looked, everything shifted.

people started treating me differently. opportunities started flowing to me. i had this glow that i hadn’t had in years.

and that was just the beginning. it wasn’t just about the outside. i started taking care of my body internally too. i hired a holistic doctor. i changed my diet. i started doing pilates 3-4 times a week.

the external shift created the internal one.

and listen, i’m a married woman. but when i say people—men AND women—started shooting their shot at me? it was wild.

not because i suddenly became a different person.

but because i started showing up as the version of myself i’d been hiding.

fake it til you make it isn’t shallow.

it’s strategic.

it’s refusing to wait for the universe to give you permission to become who you already know you’re supposed to be.

the truth about transformation

people love to talk about inner work and healing and becoming your authentic self.

and sure, that matters.

but nobody tells you that sometimes the fastest way to shift your inner world is to change your outer one first.

that cutting your hair can cut the old identity loose.
that new clothes can make you walk differently.
that showing up like her can convince your brain that you already are her.

so stop waiting to feel different before you look different.

start looking different and watch how fast you start feeling different.

so tell me: what’s the one thing you’re changing this week?

the hair appointment you’ve been putting off?
the skincare routine you keep saying you’ll start?
the outfit that makes you feel like a different person?

drop a comment. it comes straight to my inbox.

and if this hit you, send it to the woman who’s been showing up as the old version of herself for way too long.

she’s ready. she just needs the reminder.

next week: how to change your environment and your circle to match the new you. because once you look the part, it’s time to live it.

everyone told me i was ungrateful for leaving my $200k job.

and you know what?

they were right.

i was ungrateful. and that’s exactly what saved my life.

in February 2025, i walked away from $200k a year. no backup plan. no savings worth mentioning. just a belief that felt so strong i had to bet my entire life on it.

my family thought i’d lost it.
my friends got quiet when i told them.
my therapist asked if i was having a manic episode.

“what about insurance?”
“you know people would kill for that job, right?”
“in this economy? with this president?”
“you need to be more grateful.”

honestly, i tried to be grateful. i really did.

i’d sit in meetings, nodding along, telling myself this is good money, this is security, this is what success looks like.

but every morning i’d wake up and feel like i was suffocating.

every Sunday night i’d get this pit in my stomach that lasted until Friday.

i was making more money than i ever thought possible and i couldn’t remember the last time i felt alive.

gratitude had become a cage. and i was the one holding the keys.

here’s what nobody tells you about playing it safe

it’s the riskiest thing you can do.

because the only guarantee is that you’ll die having never known what you were capable of.

we’ve been sold this lie that security equals success. that the goal is to find a good job, keep your head down, and be thankful for the crumbs.

but security costs you everything that makes you you.

your dreams. your energy. your aliveness.

and when you’re 80, sitting in that paid-off house, nobody’s going to give you a trophy for playing it safe. nobody’s going to congratulate you for never taking the leap.

risk is self belief.

and every time i was about to change my life, i had to prove to myself—and to God—that i believed something different now.

because we become what we believe.

what we believe determines our thoughts. our thoughts determine how we show up. and how we show up determines whether we’re living or just existing.

the new belief that changed everything

when i left that job, i had to choose a new belief: i am worth more than a paycheck that’s slowly killing me.

and to prove it, i had to risk something real.

you can’t just think your way into a new life. you can’t journal and vision board your way out of a cage.

at some point, you’ve got to put your weight on it.
you’ve got to lean all the way in.
you’ve got to leap.

because the alternative is falling, failing, maybe getting hurt.

all of which you can come back from.

but you know what you can’t come back from?

living your whole life wondering what could’ve been. spending decades on the safe path and realizing too late that you traded your one wild life for comfort that never even felt that comfortable.

THAT’S the risk nobody talks about.

where i am now

it’s October 2025. eight months since i walked out of that office.

am i where i thought i’d be by now?

not even close.

some days i’m scared. some days i wonder if everyone was right and i made a huge mistake.

but here’s what i know for sure: i’m five steps ahead of the version of me who sat in that bathroom stall in February, crying before a 9am meeting, praying for the strength to make it through another day.

i’m five steps ahead of the girl who had everything on paper and nothing in her soul.

and because i’ve done this before, i know that things taking time is part of the journey. i know if i keep going, by January 2026 i’ll be ten steps ahead.

but none of that happens without the first leap.

none of it happens if i stay grateful for a life i didn’t even want.

so let me ask you something

what’s the thing you’re too scared to do?

the thing that would prove—to yourself, to God, to anyone who’s ever doubted you—that you actually believe in yourself?

i’m not talking about changing your hair or starting a new hobby (though sure, start there if you need to).

i’m talking about the big thing.

the thing that makes your stomach drop when you think about it.
the thing you’ve been talking about for years but never actually do.
the thing that would change everything.

what if you did that this week?

what if you stopped being so grateful for the wrong life and started being audacious enough to build the right one?

because here’s what i’ve learned: once you get comfortable with risk, your whole life splits open.

risk is how you prove you believe.

it’s the first step in the delusional method.
it’s the first step toward your dream outcome.
it’s the first step into the rest of your life.

so what’s scarier—risking everything and failing?

or never risking anything and succeeding at a life you don’t even want?

drop a comment. tell me the risk you’re taking. it comes straight to my inbox and i read every single one.

Coming on Thursday: why being yourself is overrated (yes, I said it)