Shit, this is long. Here's a table of contents. Shut up, the part of me that loves office stationery and Powerpoint is pleased with this feature 😍.

Let's start here: this is my current LinkedIn header

I've been posting for a year now. With every passing month, I peel off my own masks and insecurities about showing up as a coach, when everyone in my network probably knows me as a scientist or a marketer.

It is now October. I am back, after a month-long pause where I intentionally disconnected from it all. I did not work on my idea. I did not write at all. The posts were scheduled and I let it be.

I spent that month wandering. Literally. I went to Europe, and for the exception of the days I spent in Amsterdam, I did not speak a lick of English.

I journaled a lot. I was processing a lot of things, mainly the unexpected emotional turbulence of having an Instagram account and a LinkedIn account and what that showed me about the world and my own naiveté.

When I came back, I made my decision.

I was going to start writing in Spanish.

This was not a rational choice backed up by data. I needed to do this for myself, because after a year of posting on LinkedIn, I felt that I had stagnated.

I could not shake off the feeling that something was not right. If my message could have been poured into a glass of water, then the water was too cloudy for my liking.

This was not a strategy issue, or even a storytelling issue. It's not that I consider myself an excellent copywriter, this is irrelevant at this stage.

Unfortunately, I do not have a better word for the thing I want to talk about. THE TRANSMISSION (fucking spiritual scammers ruining the words for everybody).

I knew it in my bones that what I wanted to transmit was not coming out "right". Something was being lost in the act of writing, and I could not figure out what it was.

Like I said, this is a very long backstory with multiple subplots. There is also a reason why I believed Spanish was going to help me, but that is a whole other post.

A week into the Spanish writing experiment

"I just had a writing session my god I feel like I finally pushed a turd that was stuck sideways"

(Real Whatsapp message sent on October 15th. I love my friends. Thank you for being on this ride with me.)

Something about switching to Spanish was a literal ON switch for my brain.

What I could not put together in English was starting to flow.

I was bringing ALL OF ME to my work. The parts that I thought I needed to put on hold until I had enough experience to integrate them. The transmission felt clear and potent.

I had severely underestimated the impact of language, and that some things cannot be translated.

I think this was the first time that I saw the difference between the Me that exists in English and the Me that exists in Spanish.

We don't even laugh the same.

I kept going, excited about this new direction. I knew that I was going to be a revelation, but I didn't expect it to be this quick.

Couple of days later, I check my inbox.

RMP® IS NOW AVAILABLE EN ESPAÑOL.

The synchronicity was just TOO GOOD. Finally, the writing team in charge of my simulation was throwing me a bone!

Up until that moment, I was building a course in Spanish, knowing that there was no way for people to take the test in Spanish, so that forced me to bring out the other stuff I've been hesitant to try.

I'm still going to do it, but now that they can take the test...well. That changes everything. I can go all out. I don't have a constraint on serving bilingual speakers, we can do this work 100% in Spanish.

Another level unleashed

Suddenly, I had the motivation to build this website. Yup, none of this existed 7 days ago. Not even the concept for Unscripted.

Writing in Spanish allowed my mind to roam with so much freedom that I was able to come back to English and put together an offer that made sense to me.

I went into hyper focus mode. I opened that e-mail on Thursday. By Friday, I had a sales page for Unscripted and I was happy with the photos and design choices. By Saturday, I started to build the Spanish pages.

By Sunday morning, I am woken up by my hunger and since I am on a roll, I start looking at images I could use for the Spanish course I'm building.

That's when the insight finally dropped like a fucking hammer

Compare and contrast these two moodboards: Unscripted vs. Migajera, the course I am writing in Spanish.

I took the same idea that I've been trying to communicate in English ("Stop optimizing for crumbs"), started creating in Spanish, then I came back to English, scrapped the whole "crumbs" concept, and came up with Unscripted.

None of this was rational. I didn't know what I was doing, until I saw the stock photos I picked for each.

That's when I finally saw it.

Revelation #1: Shapeshifting has its limits

'Migajera' is a word you'd use to describe someone who accepts crumbs. When I decided to start writing in Spanish, I started with the idea of migajera because I had already spent time thinking about this and trying to promote this idea of "stop taking crumbs" in English.

Now that I look at my LinkedIn Header and my old Podia page, I can see how I am trying to force a narrative that was born in Spanish into another language.

I know my process is messy, but I had no awareness of the impact of language. I've been taking ideas that start in Spanish, putting a patina of English on top of it, and calling it a day.

I guess I thought of myself as an expert shapeshifter, since I've been living abroad for more than 20 years and I have never held a job in Spanish, so English felt like the obvious language to write in (another thing to unpack in another post).

But nope, I was not able to shapeshift so well in this situation. That's why the transmission felt off.

My trauma has its identity and the passport clearly says: 🇵🇦 HECHO EN PANAMA 🇵🇦 (uh, what do you think motivated me to get help and eventually get certified to help other people?)

It's not that I didn't know that I was loosing some of my Panamanian flair when I communicate in English. I am aware. It's just that I didn't know how BAD it was because I had never bothered to write a course outline and a sales page in Spanish.

The second I did it, I had the clarity of Belcalis Carolina Marlenis Michelle:

Image Source

I am translating things that cannot be translated. Emotions that refuse to code-switch because they loose their potency. This is why the transmission felt murky.

This knowledge was doing its thing in the back of my mind, shaking up the bottom of my subconscious. I kept going, knowing in my bones that this was not over, some shit was about to go down and I was going to stay with the process.

SO WHEN I SAW MY PHOTO CHOICES...for the same idea, but communicated in different languages...

CACKLES IN SPANISH

MIND. BLOWN.

I COULD FINALLY PUT MY FINGER ON IT. WHY MY LINKEDIN HEADLINE AND MY PODIA PAGE FELT WEIRD.

Revelation #2: Why the English language cannot capture this

The english language is not capable of encapsulating the meaning of 'Migajera'.

Let's start with the basic fact that there is no word for it.

The closest translation would be "crumb eater".

And that doesn't encapsulate what I'm trying to say.

Because migajera is not just about eating crumbs, it's about being perfectly fine with whatever you can get.

Even when you know there is a buffet next to you, you don't try to come closer. You don't even try to sit there.

You are at the end of the table, grabbing whatever dish is handed to you, even saying "No thanks" to the whole loaf of bread and gaslighting yourself into enjoying the dry crumbs left on the plate.

Migajera exists for reasons. It encapsulates so much of the Latino experience.

This quote is from the book "The Decolonial Awakening: A complete roadmap to Collective Liberation" by Christian Ortiz

"The pursuit of the American Dream often places Latino immigrants in exploitative labor conditions, from agriculture to low-wage service jobs. While immigrants are celebrated for their work ethic, their labor is undervalued and their contributions are often invisible. Despite this, many are drawn to the promise of upward mobility, working multiple jobs and enduring systemic discrimination in the hope of securing a better future for their families."

This pursuit is not exclusive to Latino immigrants working low-wage jobs in the US.

This pursuit also exists if they stay home, this psychological impact of this pursuit is also inherited and it lives in your mind rent-free, long after your elders lifted the family from poverty.

You are not spared from it just because you are the first or second generation in your family to obtain a University degree and escape the fate of hard physical labor.

Migajera makes sense in the Spanish context because it is practically part of the culture to make due with whatever is given to you.

When the English-speaking child hears "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade" they envision a franchise selling $8 drinks. They are not "making lemonade". They are making electron-charged beverages calibrated at the right pH level that will optimize the uptake of nutrients to your brain. They are selling you the lemonade via an app that also connects to your fridge to tell you when you are running low so you can purchase more. They are sending a brown person on a bicycle to drop off your monthly lemonade box. They are future. The innovators. The lemonade barons.

When this child grows up, any concept of "accepting crumbs" is going to be about leaving money on the table.

When the Spanish-speaking child hears the same, "Si del cielo te caen limones, aprende a hacer limonada", the lemons are too soft to sell like that, so you have to act quickly. You make lemonade. You enlist your entire family. You are up at 4 am to be on time for the morning rush and sell your limonada to other workers. You sell them to make just enough profit to survive because you don't know about branding and marketing. All you know is that the lemons come from nature and charging $8 feels like stealing from your own people.

Since you don't have capital to hire more people or turn it into a franchise, you get street smart about it. Because you know hunger, you know how to spot thirst. And if you keep going at it, humbly, and with determination, you might be able to make it and lift your entire family into a new socioeconomic bracket. But that is not up to you. You'll put in the hours, but it is up to God.

Inshallah, ojalá the lemons keep coming.

That's the thing.

OUR DRIVE IS NOT COMING FROM THE SAME PLACE.

We are going fast, but not because we need to take over the market share and capitalize on the opportunity.

We need to go fast because the lemons are not guaranteed.

When the Spanish-speaking child grows up, the concept of crumbs is his reality and the filter through which he decides what is available and realistic for him to achieve.

This is why I cannot talk about crumb eating in English.

The English-speaking child becomes an adult that is not used to scraps.

The English language is the language of a system that does not compute the concept of crumb eating at all.

You want it, you got it. It's as simple as that.

There is no begging, no internalized sense of inferiority, no need to erase yourself in hopes of getting a bone thrown at you. Unless you grow up poor which means, if you are gullible enough, you will project that rage as racism and xenophobia.

The ones who get better crumbs will tell you that they are struggling with self-esteem and confidence issues.

But from the outside one cannot tell if that's the whole truth because when you've been in these empowerment spaces long enough, you get to meet a type.

The type that is in reality upset because they didn't get their piece of the Manifest Destiny pie. They don't want more loaves. They want Jeff Bezos to buy their fucking bakery. So they drunk their faces in ice water at 5 am as self-flagellation to optimize themselves.

And then there's the multi-linguals. The immigrants, the First gen, etc.

They are dealing with the psychological shrapnel that stays long after they realize that they are "the other". Since they are living in the system, they do not see any way out of this exceptionalism and meritocracy trap.

Damned if they do. Damned if they don't.

They have to find a way to get their crumbs and loaves while ignoring the shrapnel that is stuck in their psyche just by existing in a system where everything about them has already been assigned a value that is rooted in fiction.

"Even in the absence of physical colonization, the mental frameworks imposed by these systems continue to shape how people see themselves and their place in the world. Many still carry the inherited weight of inferiority, passed down through generations of families taught to see their culture, language, and spirituality as obstacles rather than assets."

Revelation #3: I've been beating around the bush

I cannot speak about migajera in English because I'd have to speak about something so heavy that none of you would subscribe to my newsletter.

The people on this platform are not on the poor side of the salary standard deviation curve, no matter how you ended up speaking English. Born that way, ESL, first gen. It doesn't matter.

I cannot speak about crumb eating in English because we are all doing Cirque du Soleil acrobatics to avoid seeing how some of this stuff is caused by our internalized sense of inferiority.

So when I say "stop optimizing for crumbs", when I say migajera, this is not registering. You think it has nothing to do with you. That I love to get off to this victimhood story.

If I call it by another name, a pick me, you are going to summon a horde to come tell me that I am being divisive. The problem is not the system, the problem is that I am not being nice.

Because, you, you are different. You see yourself as a professional. An example of what can be achieved through hard work and ethics. Proof that meritocracy is real. That anyone complaining about things that happened 400 years ago just have a chip on their shoulder.

You'd be banging on my door to work with me if I packaged my services as a "step into your best life" and sprinkle some of that hyper-individualistic, rise-against-all-odds talk that is so typical of self-help gurus.

But I don't talk like that, which means, I AM LEAVING MONEY ON THE TABLE. Not because I don't like money (HAHA a Taurus could never) but because IT IS A SCAM.

I've been trying to find a narrative that wouldn't spook people but also wouldn't be absolute bullshit.

I've been trying to find the right level of communication without stepping into territory that is not my area of expertise because that is not what I do explicitly (everything about dismantling colonialism, patriarchy, capitalism, racism).

And this, this is the thing I could sense in my body but could not put the finger on it until I saw the difference in the visual language that I was using in English vs Spanish.

As I said, there are multiple subplots that fed into this Sunday morning epiphany at my kitchen table.

Revelation #4: I wasn't stagnant

Colonialism is running its programming for free in my head and body and soul and dismantling that is a shitload of work (I am not complaining, just saying).

That's why it has taken me time.

This is something I have been working on in private. I am very vague on this because I know that there's so much more to be done, but I was one of those cases of people who did not want to deal with it because they had no capacity to deal with it.

I posted the other day that this apolitical, cringe, shrugging-it-off, peace-keeping attitude is a kind of emotional immaturity. I know this not because I am an expert. I know this because I've been there.

I've also known, especially in the past year, that I had to find a way to bring my personal experience into my work.

Beyond the perfectionism and impostor syndrome, I cannot talk about what I do and ignore this.

My attempts have felt clumsy because showing up as I AM A WOMAN OF COLOR, I FIND ALL OF THIS REPULSIVE AND I SHALL LEAD THE REVOLUTION! Is not it.

Not because I am a coward (I am) but because I am white-passing and I have benefitted from it. It would be such a sleazy thing of me to show up as a freedom fighting mestiza when my life was handed to me on a silver platter.

My lineage paid the price of admission into "whiteness". My existence is the pinnacle of this erasure project.

I have not lived much of the indignities in the flesh. I haven't had to make lemonade the way my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother had to.

I also struggle with the idea of being the privileged, relatable, and super down-to-earth immigrant who is here to open your mind and your heart hits the Tibetan singing bowl and passes down the cacao.

Fucking barf.

I am white-passing, but NOT ENOUGH to do that clownery.

(I love that I got this gif from "Silicon Valley's largest and most awarded yoga studio" - their words, not mine)

So, yes, I need to bring this into my work, because the obvious avenues of marketing are not viable options for me.

Both are disrespectful towards my Self.

And here is where leaning on my RMP® has helped me to keep pushing through the discomfort of not knowing how to show up, but showing up anyway.

One thing that I knew was true and I needed to keep exploring was my low desire for Acceptance and Power.

This is how it shows up when I think about my business and promoting my work:

I am not motivated by the prospect of influencing anyone's thoughts. I am not motivated to engage in online conversations, because for the most part, I don't care about convincing anyone to see my perspective.

PEOPLE HAVE FREE WILL AND THEY ARE USING IT TO PLAY STUPID. What do I do with that?

I do not care about being invited to speak at these Jerk-A-Thon events and pretend that for $1299 and shit coffee, we made the world a better place.

I am aware that this is who I am AND I still have to find a way to exist, get paid, and get eyeballs on what I am writing and offering.

I am smart enough to see through the bullshit, and I am not psychopathic enough to engage in manipulation tactics.

The game I am playing right now is to dismantle anything in my programming that keeps telling me I have to compromise if I want to succeed. That I have to tone it down to be more relatable. That I cannot be this direct. That I am too morbid. That I am too crass.

I may be a work in progress, but one thing I am not doing ever again is to shame and coerce myself to go against my true nature (that's being a migajera).

Low acceptance people will be seen as arrogant.

I AM OKAY WITH YOUR INTERPRETATION. I AM NO LONGER TRYING TO DAMAGE CONTROL THE VERSION OF ME THAT EXISTS IN PEOPLE'S HEADS.

The only way to find my voice is through action. And for those actions to be worthwhile, they have to align to my desires of low Acceptance and low Power.

So, while this might seem like "a first step" for people reading this, know that this is the 100,000th step for me.

I've been clawing my way to get to this version of me that can write this post.

Revelation #5: Calcified pain needs time to soften

Just because I am living according to my desires doesn't mean that I am fully healed.

There is no such thing. Whoever promises you light without ever talking about shadows is a grifter.

Anyway, this is the random event that was part of this domino effect that led to me write this post:

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a friend from my Vancouver days.

We know each other from "the industry", and we had not seen each other since 2013.

The morning after, my husband innocently asks, "how come you never mentioned her?"

Oh putain.

This had nothing to do with my friend, in fact, that night I felt BLESSED that our paths had crossed again, but as all things in the life of a woman with intense Pluto placements, I cannot have insights that feel like a summer breeze caressing my soul.

Nope.

I never see these things coming, and when they come, it is a sledgehammer wrapped in barbed wire and I fucking had one of those for breakfast that Friday morning.

This seemingly innocent question re-opened a period of my life where nothing seemed to work, professionally speaking (and also health-wise).

And for the first time since I started this healing journey, I allowed myself to feel some stuff that I thought were a mild annoyance (compared to what I saw as bigger sources of rage and indignation back then).

I cried.

For the first time, I CRIED.

Hours later, I channeled that when I created Unscripted, and I think this is why, even if there was a way to anglicize migajera, I won't speak about crumb eating in English anymore.

"Stop optimizing for crumbs" was the respectable mask I thought I could use to avoid talking about the real issue.

How do we dismantle the shame that we carry because we have to navigate the world as "the other", and that feels like we are constantly trying to leave the "loser" side?

It is important to emphasize that I chose LOSER and not OPPRESSED because this is the problem.

That sense of inferiority that is running rampant in our heads because of the system we have to survive and adapt to? That is OPPRESSION.

But you don't see yourself as oppressed because you believe in upward mobility and you broke into the 6-figure bracket and you are in some Top 30 under 30 list.

You cannot hold the awareness of that word AND be out and about doing migajera shit like compromising and downplaying and compartmentalizing and smiling throughout the whole charade so you can be seen as "one of them".

You cannot sit with the reality of that word AND attend another stupid lecture on power poses.

If you understood how oppression works, you'd never fucking dare to post another story about how shitting your pants taught you about leadership (It's a true story, even though it was a white man who wrote that I had to bring it up because I see the rest of you trying this type of fake vulnerability).

However, if you stop at loser, or its cousin, impostor, you think this is a thing you can fix with mindful mornings and Chaga supplements.

This is manageable, it is a pull yourself from your bootstraps kind of problem. No need to poke around and realize that the Empire has no pants and it's fucking with you.

I cried that morning because I was finally strong enough to move past the anger and bitterness and I allowed myself to just feel hurt.

I was finally strong enough to hold the part of me that was so eager and innocent and white-washed.

I understand now that there was no way I could have seen this before this moment, because if I had skipped steps, I may have shattered to the point of no return.

I was able to cry just to process the emotion. But it did not drag me. This insight would have been a deadly blow if it has arrived before.

Sidenote: THIS IS WHY I AM NOT NICE WHEN I TALK ABOUT THE SELF-HELP INDUSTRY. YOU CANNOT RUSH AND GROWTH HACK ANYTHING THAT IS OF SUBSTANCE (the only biological thing that acts as if sky is the limit and can be quite successful in its mission is CANCER)

Every step I have taken, even when I was in the dark, revealed the next thing. And I kept going. One foot in front of the other.

And now I see this much, and I have created Unscripted.

And the reason why I used the images of bodies without faces, exhausted, flat lining, images of paper burning and a woman with a lighter is because when I speak in English, I am speaking up for the child who bought into the lies of meritocracy, equality, and mestizaje.

I am speaking up for the young version of me who believed "if it's from the North, it must be superior". The version of me who tried to present as Eurocentric as possible and would have to call her mom to tell her that "I cannot dress like this, not over here".

The version of me who held on to the concept of exceptionalism and you would have had to pry it from her dead hands before she would have given up that idea. And it almost had to happen that way for her to finally let go.

I am speaking for the version of me who felt the powerlessness in her bones but then gave thousands of dollars of her money to people who could have never understood where she was coming from, and all she got out of it was "well I guess having better thoughts fixes everything eh?".

I am speaking for the high-achiever, goal getter who is holding it all inside with nowhere to explode because she is on a quest for resilience and empowerment, but avoids looking at the ways she allows exploitation and erasure of her Self.

Because if she were to do that, she'd have to cry about how deep her shame runs. And its a shame that is so disrespectful, so dehumanizing, so violating, that she'd rather not see it and keep paying for the next empowerment scam.

I had never been able to cry about any of this.

I've felt a lot of emotions, but I never allowed myself to feel sad about what my adult life in Canada and Switzerland turned out to be.

Because when you grow up with the migajera script, you cannot allow yourself to feel sadness about your situation.

That kind of sadness is weakening (bullshit, it's very empowering, but they want you to stay stuck so you don't notice your own erasure).

You grew up believing that you cannot afford to be weak (that's some other bullshit). But this mechanism, as imperfect and flawed as it is, protected you because you know that there is no net that will catch you. Everyone around you is just another crab in the bucket.

I cried because I finally could. Because I finally became the person that can catch me.

I am still a crab. I still need to wear a shell out here in the wild.

But now I am willing to point my claws outward, because I have spent a lot of time tearing myself apart for not being enough.

I don't want to be good enough for this system anymore. This system sucks. I want a new one.

I am enjoying the weightlessness as the last fucks leave my body (lol I always say "this is the last one" but LIES), and this is what I want to communicate. Not only that joy that you can find right now in that weighlessness, but HOW do you claim that for yourself (hint: it goes back to understanding your desires).

I was finally able to channel that when I put together Unscripted.

There's a lot that needs to be ripped apart. Scripts, masks, armours. You might have a lot of cry sessions once you realize that this is not "impostor syndrome", this is a grief that you are refusing to feel.

I know that this is hard to do that when there is nothing to hold on to. For better and for worse, our coping mechanisms, the masks, the shame, the guilt, that is the scaffold that is holding it all together.

That's why I found the RMP® so useful. It shows you, this is who you are, and if you don't feel like you are operating at 100% THAT'S OKAY. Now you know what to watch out for and you can go claim what has always lived inside of you.

The power has always been yours. You've just been sold a lie about why it is of an inferior flavour.

I can simultaneously hold that I am still a coward but as a low Acceptance woman...being a bad bitch is in my DNA. Being able to write like I am wielding a sword - that is perfectly within my capacity.

The current game I am playing is acting like Mariah Carey when it comes to "growing your business on social media".

I don't serve the algorithm. I am going to write what I want to write.

Revelation #6: Why I'll still use Migajera in Spanish

So, why does 'migajera' make sense for me in Spanish?

What's with all the cake references?

That's an easier one to answer.

For one, it is funny.

Second, I do not fight demons. I make them my friends. Being irreverent and funny is my weapon to disarm them. And because these early demons are 🇵🇦 HECHO EN PANAMA 🇵🇦, I do not bring the peer-reviewed, academic, little Ms. MBA into the picture.

Third, I'm used to being "me" in Spanish. I am always swearing. I'm way more explicit and visceral. I struggle writing "business Spanish" because I have never worked in Spanish and that mask is SO AWKWARD that it falls after 5 seconds lol.

As for the cake images:

• Going from crumbs to "I deserve more" is really about learning to nurture yourself. It's not about power poses or affirmations. It's about shifting into a mindset that not only life is a gorgeous buffet of opportunities, but that there's already a seat at a table that is 100% perfect for you.

• I have a strong desire for Eating, so there's that. I was so lost and so depressed but the only thing I knew that was real and had meaning for me was my lunch time. And when I found the RMP®, I experienced for the first time real validation. The kind that feels empowering and not an act of pity. I was following something that felt like a whim, and it turned out to be the most authentic thing I could have done for myself. And NO ONE could have given me that advice, I had to dig it out of me and trust it. But in that specific moment in my life, I needed to see it reflected somewhere. I needed that permission slip because I used to be so controlling that there was no such thing as trusting that I was going to be okay, especially if all I was doing was making sure I enjoyed my food without the pressure of the clock (this was when I started freelancing and every minute that I didn't work created anxiety).

• I have a strong desire for Beauty, so instead of depicting the before state of a migajera, I wanted to focus on the after. The decadence is not about consumerism. It's about feeling abundant. It's about overflowing with self-love and self-trust. I am speaking to the Spanish-speaking child that saw life as a string of suffering that had to be endured the best way she could. I want her to know that it gets better. That it is worth sticking around. That her existence is not a fluke, it has meaning. That she deserves to feel light in her soul and joyful in her body.

• I was indoctrinated to be a nice girl. Nice girls grow up to be good women who eat cake once everyone else is fed. That is the script we are taught in a nutshell. And I'm out here telling you to eat cake any time, anywhere, and never save the best cake slice for the special occasion. I stopped talking about cake so many sentences ago.

I do this exact work in English, but now you know why I have struggled to show you.

I've been holding on to the rage of erasure and if I want to be authentic in my communication in English, then I have to channel that rage. PROPERLY. UNAFRAID OF THE BOSS'S WRATH. UNAFRAID OF HOW I AM GOING TO FUCK IT UP BECAUSE I'M SO WHITE-WASHED AND ALSO NOT.

In English, I am still burning through scripts about my place in the hierarchy. In English, I am still learning to use my sword (words). I am still learning what it means to embody I DON'T NEED A STAMP OF APPROVAL. And when I think of that, I want to BURN.

I embody the lessons in Spanish, because that's my language of RECLAMATION and CELEBRATION. When I think of that, I WANT CAKE. That's the language my body understands.

We are burning and rioting in English. Fuck the cake party!

Just kidding! We can totally have one!

But now you see why I can't be love and light and cacao?

That I can't just call it a day, package this stuff as Live your Best Life® and live the rest of my life sharing wisdom with some sociopathic fucks from Silicon Valley who want the high of enlightenment but don't want to pay the price of admission?

What, too much, too soon, did I hit a nerve?

I. don't. care.

I'm a fucking crab that just stopped chasing "success" inside a goddamn bucket.

I'm out of the bucket! For now! I think! That's why I'm building my own website. I am done pussyfooting around this topic and I need to get bolder and louder because if I don't...I FEAR I WILL GO BACK INTO THE BUCKET! And I've seen too much. It's officially ugly and stinky in there. BYEEEEEEEEEEEE.

YOU MADE IT THIS FAR?

SWEET

DID I TELL YOU ALREADY ABOUT MY NEW PROGRAM? 🤣

JOIN UNSCRIPTED

You'll get 1:1 time plus a virtual community to start unpacking some of this.

P.S. This invite is open to everybody (yes, all genders and melanin levels and passports and sexualities). I just need to write my story so you know how I do business. I am not here to sell love and light and cacao. I am here to give you the matches to set all your enemies* on fire.

*Relax! I am not talking about literal enemies, the enemies are the scripts about who you think you are and what you deserve.