The Beautiful Chaos of Building a Life i Love
A couple weeks ago, I wrote about feeling like I was drowning in my own life, and last week I shared some of the things I do to save my sanity.
After hitting publish, I realized something.
Yāall probably think Iām miserable over here.
But honestly?
I love my life.
I really do.
Right now, my life is filled with exciting, beautiful things. My daughter is getting married soon. My family is healthy and happy. Iām growing my brand in ways I once only dreamed about. And perhaps the most rewarding part of allā¦ people are connecting with my story.
Knowing something Iāve shared has encouraged another woman to step outside her comfort zone, rediscover herself, chase a dream, or start over againā¦ that means everything to me.
Thatās the goal.
To inspire people to live fully, authentically, and unapologetically regardless of age, fear, or how many times life has forced them to begin again.
And honestly? Knowing this little dream of mine is actually making a difference only adds fuel to the fire inside me.
But whewā¦
Your girl is exhausted.
Because while all these exciting things are happening, life is stillā¦ life.
Weāre in the final stretch of wedding prep, and as a family full of DIYāers, our project list somehow multiplies overnight. My ADHD brain has approximately 47 tabs open at all times. Iāve been sourcing materials, washing, sanitizing, dismantling, reconstructing, creating pieces for my upcoming online shop, and trying to juggle a million new ideas for growing this brand.
And Iām so close to opening my store filled with one-of-a-kind, beautifully rebellious, self-expressive pieces that I could scream.
Iām excited.
Iām grateful.
Iām inspired.
But if Iām being completely honestā¦
I also desperately need a break.
Not from my life.
Just from constantly managing it.
Lately, my brain has felt like Times Square on New Yearās Eve (and if you know me, you know that sounds like my personal nightmare). Every thought is loud. Every task feels urgent. Every unfinished project is basically standing in the corner tapping its foot at me.
And if you also have ADHD, you probably know exactly what I mean.
The exhaustion isnāt always physical. Sometimes (most times), itās mental overload from caring deeply about too many things all at once.
Itās trying to remember:
wedding projects,
content ideas,
business goals,
laundry,
emails,
meals,
appointments,
social media,
bills,
text messages you forgot to answer three days ago,
and where you put your phone for the third time today.
At some point, your brain just quietly whispers:
āGirlā¦ respectfullyā¦ we cannot keep doing this.ā
And honestly? Thatās probably why the idea of sitting near water sounds so magical to me right now.
Nothing fancy.
I donāt need luxury resorts or first-class flights. Iād be perfectly happy in a tiny little beach bungalow somewhere with sunshine on my face, my toes in the sand, good music playing, and my favorite person sitting next to me.
No alarms.
No schedules.
No notifications.
No endless to-do lists.
Just salty air, golden sunsets, and the sound of waves convincing my nervous system to calm down for five minutes.
Unfortunately, inflation and my bank account seem to think this vision is a little ambitious right now.
At this point, with the way gas prices are, I may have to settle for an inflatable baby pool in the backyard.
And to my neighbors:
Mind your business.
A girlās doing her best.
But now listenā¦
As adorable as my inflatable backyard resort sounds, if Iām being completely honest, I know myself well enough to admit something important:
I would never fully relax there.
Because the second I looked toward the house, Iād notice dishes in the sink, laundry needing folded, an unfinished project, an email I forgot to answer, or twelve other things silently waiting for me.
And I know Iām not the only person like this.
Some people can truly unplug at home, and I genuinely admire those people. I, however, will suddenly decide itās the perfect time to reorganize a closet while ārelaxing.ā
For some of us, rest requires distance.
Not because we hate our homes or our lives, but because our brains associate those spaces with responsibility. Sometimes we need to physically leave the environment that constantly reminds us of everything we should be doing.
And honestly?
I think thatās okay too.
So now Iām officially on a mission to figure out inexpensive ways to āget awayā without spending seventeen million dollars.
Not sad smaller.
Intentional smaller.
Tiny little escapes that trick my nervous system into believing weāve temporarily left reality.
And honestly? Some of them sound kind of amazing.
A cozy cabin or Airbnb split with friends sounds less like a vacation and more like group therapy with snacks. Why are girls trips simultaneously therapy sessions, comedy shows, and emotional support groups? Throw in comfy clothes, coffee, music, and late-night conversations, and suddenly healing in the woods starts sounding incredibly appealing.
Then thereās the off-season beach trip, which is genius. Stop trying to vacation when everyone else is vacationing. A random Tuesday in September right after the kids return to school. Nice weather, peaceful beaches, and dramatically cheaper hotel prices? Sign me up immediately.
I also recently discovered the concept of āone-tank trips,ā which feels financially responsible enough for me to participate in. The idea is simple: how far can you get on one tank of gas? Maybe itās a nearby lake town, a quaint little mom and pop motel, a hiking spot, or somewhere youāve never bothered to stop before. The goal isnāt luxury. Itās interruption. Breaking routine long enough for your brain to breathe differently.
And honestly? Even a single night away sounds restorative at this point.
I think sometimes we believe a getaway only counts if it lasts an entire week, but when your brain has been running on overload, even 24 uninterrupted hours can feel life-changing.
No one asking where something is.
No chores staring at you.
No pressure to be productive.
Just snacks, uninterrupted sleep, trashy reality TV, and hotel blackout curtains working harder than your therapist.
Honestly?
That sounds medicinal.
And maybe thatās really what this entire post comes down to.
Iām not craving luxury.
Iām craving pause.
A moment to step away from the constant mental tabs running in the background.
A chance to breathe before burnout decides for me.
A little space between me and the responsibilities I carry every day.
Because loving your life and needing a break from it can exist at the same time.
And I think more people need to hear that.
Because underneath all the stress, exhaustion, wedding projects, business ideas, and mental overloadā¦
Thereās still a life I once prayed for.
A family I love deeply.
A dream Iām finally building.
Creativity flowing again.
Purpose.
Connection.
Growth.
And while I may joke about disappearing to a beach bungalow immediately, the truth is I wouldnāt trade this season of life for anything.
I just need to remember that even beautiful things can become overwhelming when you never pause long enough to breathe.
So if you need me this summer, Iāll either be:
building my dream,
chasing another creative idea at 2 AM,
covered in DIY wedding supplies,
or hiding in a cheap hotel somewhere eating snacks in silence while pretending Iām at a luxury spa retreat.
At this point, Iām just trying to find the fine line between chasing my dreams and needing a medically supervised nap near water.
