My aunt sent me something on WhatsApp last week that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. It introduced me to this idea of the invisible shelf — and I’ve been obsessed ever since.
We all carry one. It's made up of everything we've seen, felt, loved, lost, and lived through. It's personal. It's layered. And it’s completely unique to each of us.
I’d say The Soarce is my “bibliothèque intérieure” — in the wild.
It reminded me why I started creating in the first place.
Not for the algorithm. Not to have all the answers.
But to remember. To reflect. To share.
To create.
The Podcast Is Back
Listen to the new episode on Spotify or Apple — or watch it on YouTube.
If I’m being honest, the way this all came together was completely unexpected. But I guess that’s the lesson here.
It wasn’t the “right” time (is anything even such a thing?) My original launch plans for the spring didn’t quite work out. Fast forward to present day — my consulting work has been hectic. Loved ones have been in the middle of one health thing after another. Moving apartments. Tons of other small and big things that made this absolutely not the “right” time.
There was no polished launch plan. Just a quiet creative pull I couldn’t ignore. Not in a perfectly timed way. Just in a way that felt inevitable.
And still, I went back and forth. Do I really want to do this again?
Do I want to put myself out there? (Even though I said I would).
What if it doesn’t land? What if no one cares? Is it worth the financial investment?
I spiraled hard & fast. I spoke to friends every week repeating the same limiting beliefs till I got sick of the sound of my own voice. I talked it through with my husband more times than I can count. I had one too many coffees and made one too many pros and cons lists. I did yet another astrology reading. I met with a famous tarot reader. I did a 21 day habit + journaling course. I manifested on every full moon night. I did all the woo woo you can think of. Along with tons of research, frantic ChatGPT searches, and the list goes on.
Everyone I spoke to told me exactly what I knew deep down — but I still wasn’t sure. Until I was. On one of those very low days, I saw a quote that stopped me:
“You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just in the part that makes most people quit.”
That line has stayed with me. I wasn’t going to let this be the part where I quit.
This is the part where I had to keep going. Not for perfection. Not for praise. But because I believe in what I’m making. Because I know I was doing it for me. Even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s real.
The studio I found six months ago and saved it, unsure if I’d ever use it.
The branding had been sitting in Pinterest boards and iPhone folders for over a year.
The visuals, the tone, the vibe — they were all there, quietly waiting for their moment.
Don’t even get me started on my Notes app and the amount of journals floating around my room.
It wasn’t about launching something big. It was about letting go of the idea that it had to be perfect at all. After years in media, I know how easy it is to get caught up in the optics. The performance. The numbers. The clickbait.
But this time, it felt different. It felt personal. More spiritual than strategic.
Less about building a brand, more about fulfilling a creative desire. Maybe this is my proof — that I’ve been working to unlearn the hustle culture that used to define so much of who I was.
I had to disappear a bit to get to this point. To say no a bit more. To put myself first. To make my circle just a little bit smaller. It felt something like a cocoon — uncomfortable, necessary, and oddly comforting.
The silver lining? I’m getting to play out some of my most insane teen dreams come true. I get to wear the hats of creative director, stylist, editor, script writer, and producer — all at once. Almost in this childlike energy I forgot even existed in me. I’ve been calling it my Disney Channel era. Almost forgot that this was the whole point?
I’m still not sure where we go from here, but at least we’re here.
My takeaway for anyone reading who’s resonating with any of this? Sometimes the most grown-up thing you can do is let yourself create like a kid again. For no reason other than it feels good. Not for the algorithm, not for perfection, but because there's still a part of you that just wants to play.
Unlearning hustle culture doesn’t mean you stop working hard — it means you stop abandoning yourself in the process.
→ Listen to the episode on Spotify or Apple
→ Watch the full episode on YouTube
Thank you for being part of this (not new, but new) first chapter. I hope you’ll follow along and share it with a friend or subscribe. Sending you all the good vibes.