The beautiful, nourishing desire for friendship and community grows right alongside our fears of rejection, inadequacy, and vulnerability. They're part of the same ecosystem. We can choose to avoid the whole path because we're afraid of the poison ivy – which means missing out on the beauty of the ferns. Or we can walk carefully, mindfully, knowing that both exist and we can navigate this terrain because it's what matters to us.

Here's my central point: If you know that your career is tied to money and earning (and let's be honest, for most of us it is), then you can't gain career clarity until you have financial clarity.

That can be a really confronting idea. It means facing numbers you might have been avoiding. It means having potentially uncomfortable conversations with yourself or your partner. It means questioning some of your spending habits and asking whether they truly align with what matters to you.

But if you approach this work with compassion, curiosity, a willingness to learn, and grace — by giving yourself room to lower your expectations of behaving perfectly around money — I think the process can be incredibly liberating.

Financial clarity doesn't mean becoming a perfect financial planner overnight. It doesn't mean never buying something just because it brings you joy. It means developing a relationship with your money that's based on awareness rather than avoidance, on curiosity rather than shame.

“For high-achieving women especially (even when we don’t feel like our achievements are ‘enough’), this distinction becomes increasingly blurry. We've built successful careers through disciplined thought, careful analysis, and meticulous planning. We've learned to trust our critical thinking above all else, which can disconnect us from the wisdom of our bodies.”

I think that in our careers, and in being moms, we make hugely courageous decisions to move forward in either space, and each of those decisions impacts the other on so many levels. But I think the real courage isn't necessarily in the leap, but in all of the intentional efforts, in sharing your dreams out loud, and in working every single day toward being present and trying to grow a little bit more.

Of course, courage looks different in work than it does in parenting. But the experience feels so real right now: it takes a lot to be courageous every day, especially when being courageous means going against what society tells you is good or valuable or important.

A few weeks ago, pop star Chappell Roan made waves when she said in an interview that "all [her] friends who have kids are in hell" and that she "doesn't know anyone who's happy with children at her age." She added that she hasn't met anyone with young kids "who has like light in their eyes, anyone who has slept."

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. We should be watching out for women's mental health, particularly between three to nine months postpartum.

And guess what? That's exactly when most of us go back to work after having our babies.

Have you ever felt lost in a sea of choices, overwhelmed by life's demands, and unsure which direction to take? You're not alone. While "values work" might sound like another vague self-help concept, I've witnessed its transformative power both as a therapist and in my clients' lives when they're navigating challenging times.

As a therapist, one of the most common concerns I hear when discussing acceptance is: "If I accept things as they are, aren't I just giving up?" This fear makes perfect sense (and I remember it well), especially for high-achieving women who've succeeded by pushing through challenges and refusing to settle. But I've witnessed countless times in my practice: acceptance isn't about resignation - it's actually the first step toward meaningful change.

Over the past five years, I’ve had the joy of working at the intersection of career and parenthood, and it’s a space I truly love. Yet, when I share what I do with others, there’s often this moment where people pause, trying to make sense of how these two worlds—career coaching and mental health—come together. It’s almost like they see them as two separate lanes: career in one, parenthood and mental health in the other.

It’s odd, I so rarely have to describe what burnout is when I talk to other mothers. I merely mention the word, and whether they are there now or was there a decade ago I almost can hear it strike a chord within their body. That knowing look they give me that says, “I know exactly what you are talking about” and “How do I get rid of it?”