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Women. Aren’t we so fucking powerful? We come together in sisterhood, and move mountains. It’s time for us to unite in love, and we’re rising to the occasion. Did you see the Women’s March? I watched from my Nan’s couch in Manchester as my soulsisters stood together around the globe. We high-fived to sisterhood as our respective generations of wonder women made our hearts explode with pride. Girl power, though, isn’t always used for positivity. Am I the only one who’s been in a female-dominated space that wreaked of toxicity and drama? My earliest experiences as a child in school with girls were just like that. My earliest experiences as a woman in the workplace with other females were just like that. So, sister, trust me when I say I’ve BEEN there. May I sprinkle your soul with some love confetti? Don’t lose heart. Don’t lose heart. Don’t lose heart.…

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#REALTALK I’m a hot fucking mess right now. I’m going to do that annoying “vaguebook” thing where I don’t give you specific whos and whats. As an apology, please accept this visual. I’m sitting on my big white Instagram-worthy bed surrounded by empty popcorn bags, uti-induced cranberry pills, toilet paper equally covered in tears and snot, pages on pages of purple-ink, and a calendar full of missed appointments and broken promises. I’m sitting on my big while Instagram-worthy bed thinking through this post with my very own sugar-induced headache. I’m sitting on my big white Instagram-worthy speaking the words of my heart, which feels like a broken love explosion. I’ve been everywhere in the last month, and therefore, I’m getting nowhere. My personal life went everywhere. And so much of my business feels personal; it’s easy to let those gray boundaries fade into nothingness. You KNOW me. I’m the self-proclaimed…

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A letter to my lovelies living in the UK I’m bursting at the seams to share that our company is launching in the UK. Why am I jittery with that excitement||gratitude combination? I was born in Homerton Hospital. I grew up in Hackney. My Nan lives in Irby, Merseyside (outside Liverpool). So much of my life is caught between the two places – USA || UK. I love both of my countries, and I wish I could share all of myself in both places. Now, I get to. So many times I’ve met someone in Holland & Barrett, and warned them away from skinny teas. So many times I’ve met someone in the Hive on Vyner Street or Rawligion, and wished I could share this coaching opportunity. Maybe that lovely out from behind the register and into their SHEO panties? So many times I’ve met my family in ill heath, and wished I could send…

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We all have triggers, right? You know, those life-altering experiences that leave us wide-eyed with disbelief and fear. They send shockwaves to our unconscious mind, jolting it into our memory like a lightning bolt. That way, when a similar situation surfaces, we get to freak the fuck out. Our brain is like, “OMFG. No. Not again. We’ve been here before and we don’t like it.” One of my known triggers that has surfaced three times in this year alone. what does it mean to be ghosted? Ghosting (n.) the act of suddenly ceasing all communication with someone Maybe you’ve been ghosted before?  But what I find harder than the actual act of being ghosted is being haunted. Once I’ve been ghosted, I seem to be followed everywhere by the thought of the ghost. This post, simply put, is me working through my shit so that I can free myself from the haunting. It’s…

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1 Mudslides are real. We had grand intentions for this country. After our journey in Punta Cana with our coaching team, we were to spend only a moment in Santo Domingo before heading to the white sandy beaches of the isolated Samaná Peninsula. We booked an Ecolodge with open air huts and farm-to-table food. Only a couple bus rides before we’d connect with our host there! A day before our departure to Santo Domingo, though, there were these incredible rains. So much so, that even our 5-Star resort lost power for a moment. The rain showed no signs of stopping. Suddenly our raw, yet stunning ecolodge looked like a rain-drenched, mosquito-infested, damp-heat nightmare. We canceled our reservation. Our disappointment was a blessing in disguise, because as soon as we arrived in Santo Domingo, we heard from a father-daughter duo who had just returned to the South from Samaná. They had…

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