What is your mission?

I used to think my mission needed to be neat. A sentence I could repeat. A box I could check. Something that made sense to everyone else before it made sense to me….but life doesn’t move in straight lines, evidently neither did I.

My mission pulses with this electric tension between freedom and depth. I want to show people how to fully inhabit their lives without losing themselves in the process. Realizing my mission didn’t have to be this grand gesture, or fireworks.. only joy.
I want to explore, move, create, and experience life fully, but I don’t want to lose myself along the way. I don’t want a life that looks full on the outside and feels empty underneath.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that tension isn’t something to solve.
It’s something to learn how to live inside of.

My mission isn’t about having all the answers.
It’s about learning how to fully inhabit my life and creating space for others to do the same.

For a long time, I thought purpose had to be heavy.
Like it had to come from sacrifice, burnout, or pushing through.
But the more honest I became with myself, the clearer it got:

My mission doesn’t come from exhaustion.
It comes from joy.

Joy isn’t frivolous. It’s informative.
It shows me what’s aligned, what’s alive, what’s worth tending to.

So I stopped chasing a version of purpose that felt performative.
I stopped waiting to feel “ready.”
And I started doing things on purpose — even while learning.

I’m not here to tell anyone who to be or how to live.
I’m not interested in positioning myself as an expert.

I’m interested in walking alongside people who are figuring things out in real time.
People who are building, becoming, unlearning, and choosing again.

My work — whether it’s writing, community, travel, reflection, or space-holding — all points back to the same intention:
To slow things down enough that we can actually feel our lives again.

To pause.
To listen.
To choose with clarity instead of momentum.

Purpose, for me, isn’t a destination.
It’s a practice.

It’s choosing depth over speed.
Presence over performance.
Alignment over approval.

I’m learning out loud.
I’m doing it anyway.

And if there’s a mission in that, it’s this:

To create spaces — internal and external — where people feel safe enough to pause, honest enough to feel, and supported enough to move forward without pretending they have it all figured out.

That’s what I’m building.
Not perfectly.
But intentionally.

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