Every year around my birthday, I get reflective. (Ok, a lot reflective.)
I start scribbling down the biggest lessons I’ve learned—some earned through scraped hands and knees, others borrowed from people wiser than me, and a few that smacked me upside the head at just the right time. This year, I figured I’d actually share them.
Why?
I have people in my life who tell me that they appreciate my little nuggets of perspective, so I figured—why not share them here? Maybe my readers will like them too. Maybe I’ll get a bunch of unsubscribes (I really hope not). But if you're still reading, you're my kind of people—and I'm glad you're here.
But let me be clear, I’m not sharing these because I have it all figured out. Honestly, you probably know more than I do—and that’s ok. I’m just sharing the scraps of insight I’ve picked up along the way. If something in here helps, great. If not—thanks for hanging out while I talk it through out loud.
42 trips around the sun might not seem like much to some, but for me it’s been a wild, messy, beautiful ride. I’ve taken some detours, repeated a few lessons more than I’d like to admit, and managed to collect a few aces along the way. These aren’t just for you—they’re reminders for me, too. Because I forget. I stumble. But I always come back to these.
If nothing else, I hope that these lessons provide you a lantern—with enough light to help you see the next few steps on your path if you need it.
Without further ado....my list:
1. If it costs your peace, it’s too expensive.
Protect your calm like it’s sacred. If it messes with your sleep, your nervous system, or your only hour on a Sunday afternoon—it’s probably too steep a price. Peace is the foundation for everything else. Protect it.
2. Your body keeps the score.
Sleep, hydration, movement, and real food aren’t optional. Your health is the rent you pay for the body you live in—and it’s due every single day. Ignore your body long enough and it’ll nudge you back to center—sometimes gently, sometimes not.
3. Rest is a requirement—not a reward.
Burnout isn’t a badge. Recovery builds resilience. Rest isn’t a luxury. It’s part of the process. You don’t earn it—you honor it. It’s where mental and physical strength are rebuilt.
4. You don’t need more willpower—you need better systems.
Willpower is a muscle, not a strategy. It gets tired, especially when life throws curveballs (or you haven’t slept, or everyone needs something from you). That’s where systems come in. They take the thinking out of doing. They support the choices you want to make—especially on the days you feel like a tired gremlin just trying to hold it together. Motivation is fickle. Systems show up even when you don’t want to.
5. Success follows interest—and your environment helps it grow.
It’s not about being interesting—it’s about staying interested. Depth beats surface area every time, and curiosity is the engine behind all real mastery. When you follow what genuinely grips you—not what looks good on paper or earns quick approval—you dig deeper, stay longer, and grow further. That kind of interest sustains you. So stack the deck in your favor. Align your environment—people, space, tools, routines—to make it easy to stay curious and keep going. Momentum doesn’t come from force. It comes from design.
6. Joy is an inside job.
It doesn’t come from titles, timelines, or someone else’s approval. You create it in the way you move through your day, the way you notice beauty, the way you let yourself laugh even when things aren’t perfect. You don’t have to wait—joy is always available. Even on a rainy Tuesday.
7. Action creates clarity.
You don’t need a full plan—you need a first step. Movement shakes the fear loose. Most people wait for perfect conditions or a bolt of motivation—but the truth is, action builds momentum, and momentum creates motivation. Progress isn’t born from thinking your way out—it comes from doing your way forward. If you’re stuck, move. The clarity and energy will meet you on the way—probably wearing flip flops and holding coffee, like an old friend showing up late but just in time.
8. Confidence is a skill that is earned—and you are wildly capable.
It doesn’t show up out of nowhere—it’s built, rep by rep. You earn it by taking action, even when you’re unsure. It grows when you keep promises to yourself, when you do the hard thing anyway, and when you show up one more time than you want to quit. Even on the days you feel like a human dumpster fire—you’ve done hard things before. You’ll do them again.
9. Discipline is the deepest form of self-respect.
It’s how you show your future self that they matter. Every choice becomes a quiet vote for the person you’re becoming. It’s proof that your goals are worth your effort—especially when no one’s watching and motivation is nowhere to be found. Discipline is a quiet, consistent way of saying, “I believe in me”—even when you don’t totally feel it yet.
10. Choose your hard.
It’s hard to build deep relationships—and it’s hard to feel alone in a room full of people. It’s hard to prioritize your health—and it’s hard to lose it. It’s hard to put yourself out there—and it’s hard to live a small, silent life. Being great is hard. But staying stuck in a version of yourself you don’t like? That’s hard too. Choose your hard with care.
11. The climb prepares you for the summit.
You can’t fast-track transformation. If you got dropped on the top of Everest without the climb, you’d pass out from the sudden altitude change. The journey of the climb acclimates and strengthens you for what you’re asking for. The view means more when you’ve earned the lungs and legs to get there.
12. Adaptability is a superpower—and expectations set the stage.
Plans fall apart. People change. Life throws curveballs. Flexibility lets you bend without breaking. Setting clear expectations—at home, work, or with yourself—bridges the space between what people imagine and what’s actually possible. The sailor doesn’t trust the sea to stay calm—he trusts his ability to adjust when the storm hits. Stay flexible. You’ll go farther with less bumps and bruises.
13. Mindset shifts everything.
Add the word "yet" to the end of your limiting beliefs and watch what shifts. "I’m not strong enough... yet." That one little word turns a full stop into a doorway. And the way you talk to yourself matters—it starts with the questions you ask. "Why am I like this?" keeps you stuck. "What’s one small thing I can do right now?" opens the door to let you step through.
14. Resistance points to what matters.
What you avoid often holds the key to what you want. The thing you keep putting off? It’s probably exactly what you need to face. If it keeps showing up in quiet moments, it’s not random—it’s a signal. Hard things shape us. And more often than not, the one you least want to do is the one most worth doing.
15. Thinking you have "Later" is a trap.
If it’s important, make time now. Life is short, and regret is loud. You don’t get the moment back. Whatever you’re putting off—joy, connection, family vacations, peace—it can’t live in the “someday” file. Bring it into the now in some way.
16. You’re not supposed to have it all figured out.
Most people are winging it—even the ones who look like they have it completely together. Strike that—especially the ones who look like they have it together. We’re all just doing the best we can. Be kind to yourself. Keep going.
17. Your worth is not up for debate.
It’s not tied to your productivity, your appearance, or your past. Your worth doesn’t rise and fall with your job title, your relationship status, salary, or the number on the scale. You are not a project to fix. You’re already enough—even when you forget.
18. You can know life is fragile and still be caught off guard by just how much.
You never know when it will be the last time you get to hug that friend, tuck your kid in for bed, or see that wild uncle at Thanksgiving. Hug your people with everything you’ve got, and let them be the one to let go first. Tell the people you care about how much they mean to you. Don’t wait for the perfect moment—just say it.
19. Don't half-ass it.
When I was growing up, my dad had this line—something he’d say whenever he could tell my head or heart wasn’t fully in it. I’d hear it from the sidelines, the pool deck, or right before a big test or presentation: “Don’t half-ass it. Give it everything you’ve got.” It stuck with me. All these years later, I still hear it in the back of my mind when it counts. Whether you’re training, leading, resting, or loving—go all in. The way you do anything is the way you do everything.
20. Books and stories can save you.
Books have carried me through seasons I didn’t know how to name. I owe this gift to my family—generations of book lovers who gave me new worlds to imagine, language to shape my thoughts, and thousands of lives to live beyond my own. Books and stories helped me make sense of myself, taught me things I didn’t know I needed, held me through tough times, sparked ideas when I felt flat, and reminded me that someone, somewhere, has felt this too. Books don’t just distract—they tether us to truth. They aren’t an escape—they’re an anchor.
21. You get to rewrite the rules.
No one else gets to define what your life should look like—not society, not your past, not even younger you. If the old rules don’t fit anymore, break them. Rewrite them. Make them yours. Seriously—who’s gonna stop you?
You’re allowed to change your mind, pivot, grow, and outgrow. You’re allowed to become someone new—and still carry pieces of who you’ve been. The path doesn’t have to be straight, and the rules don’t have to stay the same.
You get to build a life that feels like yours—and that’s where your fire lives.
Bringing It Home:
You won’t get it right every time. Neither will I.
You may forget what you already know, trip over the same lesson twice, and roll your eyes at your own journal entries. Same.
But that’s the ride. The beauty’s in the trying—in coming back to what we’ve learned (or borrowed), laughing at ourselves a little, and choosing again to move toward the life we actually want.
This is my list. Built from 42 birthdays, a few rough face plants, some well-timed leaps, a lot of false starts, even more laughs, and at least one existential spiral in a Target parking lot.
I hope something in it hit home. If one line gave you a pause, a smile, or a nudge—then it was worth writing.
Like I said before, birthdays make me reflective (and a little introspective), but mostly they make me grateful.
Grateful you're here. Grateful we get to grow—messy, human, and still all in.
Keep climbing. Keep growing. Keep going. The view gets better with every step—and good snacks can always help.
If I get one birthday wish this year, it’s this: that somewhere in these words, you felt seen.