Hey Reader,

I’ve been sitting with a sentence that still feels unreal to say out loud: I gave a TEDx talk. And the truth is… I don’t fully know how to answer when people ask how it went. Because when you prepare for something this big, there’s the obvious work. Writing the talk, rehearsing it, & timing every word.

But there’s also a quieter kind of preparation no one really talks about. The emotional weight. The life happening behind the scenes. Speaking about something you are still actively living through while also teaching other women how to walk through it too.

What I do know is this: my community showed up for me in a way I have never experienced before. Ten women and my husband made the trip just to be in that room. I have truly never felt that loved or supported in my life...

One of the speakers talked about audacity. How leaders are often formed before they feel ready, simply because they have the courage to show up anyway. And that moment brought tears to my eyes… because the truth is, I did this scared AF. I didn’t even realize how scared until I was already standing on the stage. There was so much I wanted to get right because the conversation itself matters so much. And here’s the part that surprised me the most... I barely remember it.

Everything felt like a blur. I couldn’t really make eye contact, my body wasn’t experiencing a dream-come-true moment… it was focused on one thing: get through this safely. And when it was over, the strongest feeling wasn’t pride.

It was relief.

My nervous system simply said, “We survived. You can breathe now.”

If you’ve ever carried chronic stress, lived in a dysregulated body, or grown up feeling like big moments meant pressure instead of celebration… you might understand this kind of relief. It doesn’t mean the moment wasn’t meaningful. It means your body worked incredibly hard to protect you while you did something brave.

Because even in the blur…even while scared… even without feeling calm or confident… I still stood on that stage and told the truth. And slowly, after the relief…something else arrived.

Compassion. And then pride. Quiet, honest pride.

I stood on that red dot and told the truth. I did something most people will never do. And I did it during a season of my life that has been incredibly heavy behind closed doors.

Chronic stress.
Insomnia.
A nervous system working overtime.
New ADHD medication.
And the uncertainty of being newly unemployed.

So no… this wasn’t strength that came from confidence. This was courage. The kind that shows up anyway.

Recently I learned about the “rule of thirds” when pursuing something difficult:You feel great one-third of the time, okay one-third of the time, and terrible one-third of the time. That balance is what keeps you moving toward growth.

Looking back now, what feels most meaningful isn’t perfection (though this is a BIG one I struggle with). It’s this:

I showed up fully human. Scared. Hopeful. Honest. And I did the brave thing anyway.

To my husband, and to the few people who have truly seen the quiet struggle behind all of this… thank you. Your love is what makes it possible for me to keep showing up. And to the people who believed in me long before this moment… the ones who held a vision of me I couldn’t yet hold for myself… thank you for never letting me stay small.

If you are in a season where something feels big, scary, or uncertain, maybe this is your reminder:

You don’t have to feel ready.
You don’t have to feel confident.
You don’t even have to feel present the whole time.
​You just have to be willing to show up with courage.

Thank you for being here with me.

Truly.

​Jess​