I was a stay-at-home mother with a master's degree, stale chip crumbs on my shirt, and a marriage that was already done in my heart. I knew God had dropped something in me. What I didn't know was whether I had what it took to follow it. This is the story of twelve years, one good friend, and the moment I finally said yes.

I almost didn't go. A rainy birthday weekend, no party, yet premeditated plans that I had no interest in fulfilling as I watched the grey sky swell. Just me, my cousin's polka dot rain boots I found in the attic, and a decision that changed something in me. I sat alone in the mud of Piedmont Park at the Atlanta Jazz Festival and felt loneliness drop in my stomach like the bottom of a roller coaster giving way. I noticed it. I didn't leave. What happened next taught me everything about evolution through action, keeping promises to yourself, and what it actually looks like to show up for the life you said you wanted — even when it's uncomfortable, even in the rain.

I walked into Publix for shrimp and left carrying something I didn't put in my cart. Two teenagers chose orchids for their mother, and something cracked open in my chest — the hole I thought I had filled. Or maybe run from. Mother's Day has a way of finding what you've been outrunning. This year, it found me in the floral section, one grocery store run away from the longing for my son to come.

I'm great at telling myself what to do—terrible at actually doing it. At 42, I can give away everything and move to a new country without blinking, but trying a new restaurant solo? That feels like moving a mountain. My cousin Mirella called me out: "HOW are you making change happen? What actions are you actually taking?" I had no answer. Just more research, more plans, more knowing. That's when I realized I needed structure for the doing part—something simple enough that I couldn't overthink my way out of it. Enter: my 3 Things a Week framework. Three small actions from seven areas of life. No perfection required. Just consistent movement toward the woman I'm becoming. Because here's the truth: we all know what we need to do. The gap isn't in the knowing—it's in the doing. And that gap? That's where this framework lives.