I left my corporate career before COVID hit, convinced I was done with that chapter forever. No real plan. Except desperately knowing that something had to change. My mother died at 46. I did the math one day - really sat with it - and realised that if I followed the same path, I might only have seven years left. Seven years. And I still didn’t know what my purpose was. I just knew that something was missing. That I had spent so long being good at a version of myself that did

For years, "skinny" was the goal. Smaller. Lighter. Less. The last few years, being in my 40s, taught me something different: strength is the new skinny. I wrote about this on Instagram recently — why strength matters more than ever in your 40s — and I want to go deeper here, because this shift in mindset changed how I think about my body entirely. The Truth About Our 40s After 30, we naturally start losing muscle mass — and it accelerates in our 40s. Less muscle means a slow

I was celebrating my 20th wedding anniversary with my husband. We were on the beach, looking up, admiring the starry night — when we saw a shooting star, together, for the first time in both our lives. We'd only ever seen them in movies and dramas. Somewhere in the back of our minds, we'd quietly filed them away as fiction. A "fairy tale" thing. Not something that actually happens to actual people looking up at an actual sky. So when it really happened — this streak of light,

Twenty years married this July. I won't pretend it's all been easy — there have been real highs and some genuinely low points along the way, years I wouldn't want to relive. I don't have this all figured out, and I'm not writing this from some perfect vantage point above it all. But if there's one thing twenty years — the good stretches and the hard ones — has taught me, it's this: You have to keep choosing each other. On purpose. Over and over. And the number one excuse I he

Q2 2026 has been an interesting quarter for me. I turned 46. And somewhere in the middle of all the usual milestones and momentum — I got hooked onto C-drama. In three months, I watched 11 C-drama series. I got my husband hooked on some too. What started as one casual evening turned into something we now look forward to together — chasing episode after episode, sometimes late into the night, far later than planned because neither of us could deal with the suspense of not know

I want to share something I've been noticing lately. Over the past few weeks I've been doing Celavive face spa sessions for some of my closest friends. Just 20 to 30 minutes. Simple, intentional, nourishing. And almost every single one of them said the same thing. "This feels so good. I can't remember the last time I did something just for me." And then — almost in the same breath — "I'm not sure I deserve this." That stopped me every time. Because here were these women — acc

No amount of self-improvement can overcome a lack of self-acceptance. Read that again. Because I see this pattern constantly — in the women I coach, in the communities I’m part of, and honestly, in myself at certain seasons of my life. We sign up for another course. Read another book. Attend another workshop. Download another framework. And yet — something still feels like it’s not enough. I’m still not enough. Here’s what I’ve come to understand. When self-improvement comes

Before we close this month, I want to invite you to pause. Just for a moment. Not to review your productivity. Not to measure what you achieved or didn’t achieve. But to genuinely ask — who did this month make you? 01 — What did I learn about myself this month? I’m still into my C dramas. 😄 And somewhere between the episodes — I realised something surprising. I can actually work less. And be happier. I’m learning to let go of the habit of beating myself up every time I slow

Do you feel like your identity hinders you from pursuing bold goals in your life? Because I do. When I started building my USANA and coaching businesses alongside my CFO career — I hit a wall. Not a practical wall. Not a strategy problem. Not a time problem. An identity problem. I am a CFO. I lead teams. I had people reporting to me, acting on my direction, executing my vision. I was used to being the one at the top of the room. And suddenly — I had to reach out to people. P

I want to tell you something I have never said quite this plainly before. Every time I was promoted — my first instinct was to run. Not literally. But something inside me wanted to disappear. To find a quiet corner and hide from the announcement, the congratulations, the handshakes, the expectation that I would somehow now live up to what everyone had just decided I was. Because here is what was happening underneath all of it. I didn't feel worthy. Not of the role. Not of the

When I say "be the CEO of your life" — I don't mean hustle harder or optimise every hour. I mean something far more specific. A great CEO does three things exceptionally well — she sets the vision, she defines the values, and she creates the operating system that allows every part of the organisation to function with intention. Your life is an organisation. And you are its CEO. But most of us show up as employees in our own lives — reactive, task-driven, waiting for something

— and the two that ran my life for 39 years I want to tell you something I don't say lightly. For most of my life, I was not living my own life. I was living the life that made sense. The life that looked responsible. The life that kept everyone around me comfortable— and kept me quietly, persistently— exhausted. And the reason I stayed so long? Two beliefs. So deeply embedded I had mistaken them for facts. I don't deserve more than this. It's too late for me. If you haven't

We talk a lot about wealth in terms of money. But as I turn 46 this month, the wealth I find myself most grateful for goes far beyond any number in a bank account. It has everything to do with how I feel when I wake up. How present I am in my own life. How much energy I have to give to the work, the people, and the purpose that matter most to me. Over the years — through burnout, a gallbladder surgery, a career reinvention and a lot of inner work — I've come to believe that t

I never expected my inner work to have made me a better CFO. But that’s exactly what happened. For most of my corporate career, I operated in the way most high-achieving profession als do — on competence, performance and results. I was good at my job. I hit the KPIs. I led my teams. I delivered. But if I’m honest, there was a version of me in those boardrooms that was performing . Not lying — but not fully present either. Showing up as the version of myself I thought was exp

I recently met up with my mentee from The Purposeful Circle. It was our first proper one-on-one. But quickly, we started noticing the threads we had in common. Not the surface things — not job titles or credentials or shared acquaintances. Deeper than that. Both of us had lost a parent. Both of us had let that loss quietly shape the decisions we made — the careers we chose, the risks we took or didn't take, the lives we built around a grief we never fully named. And both of

I didn't choose accountancy because I loved numbers. I chose it because I was 18; my mother had just passed away; my father had been retrenched; I needed a degree that would guarantee me a job. That was my first major life decision — made not from passion, but from fear. And for the next twenty years, I kept making decisions the same way. I built a successful career in finance and private equity. I became a VP at 35. I had the income, the title, the family. From the outsi

By the end of February, I was done. Completely burnt out. Between my CFO role, building The Mind Studio and my Usana business, managing family life, and organizing our charity fundraiser, I was juggling too many balls - and dropping many of them. Here’s the thing: I had a team . But we had no real processes. Everything was fluid. No fixed regimes. No clear deadlines. Just… figuring it out as we went. And it’s because I love spontaneity. But it doesn’t work as an operating sys

The past two weeks have been hard. The news, the uncertainty, what's happening in the world - it's a lot. I feel disappointed and anxious. And I know I'm not the only one feeling this way. If you're feeling all the strong, disturbing emotions too, I get it. Just know that you’re NOT overreacting. It's normal to feel unsettled when things feel out of control. Here's what I keep reminding myself (and perhaps may help you too): We can't control what happens at the big, macro le

Evening Routine A calm way to end your day Here's the truth: I don't have as consistent an evening routine as my morning routine. What...

Hello beautiful, I hope this message finds you well! As The Mind Studio enters into its 6th year of transformation, I've been...