Tag: #DietCokeAndHairspray

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When Trying to be Healthy Feels Like a Full-Time Job

The Pressure to Always Be On

There’s this pressure, spoken or not, to always be doing the most when it comes to your health. Show up to the gym, eat clean, get your steps in, drink the water, take the supplements, regulate your blood sugar, balance your hormones, sleep well, repeat. And when you’re doing it all for weeks or months, it starts to feel like you should be used to it by now. That it should come naturally. That if you’re tired, it must be something you’re doing wrong.

But here’s the truth: sometimes, trying to do everything right is just plain exhausting.

Especially when your body is already working against you.

When the Baseline Is Already Hard

Living with PCOS means that no matter how well I eat or how consistently I move, my body still throws curveballs. Chronic fatigue makes even simple tasks feel like they’re being done underwater some days. And I know I’m not the only one. So many people are dealing with invisible conditions. Autoimmune disorders. Mental health struggles. Endocrine issues. Chronic pain. It’s not just about doing the work. It’s about doing the work while your body resists every step.

You’re not lazy. You’re not broken. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just carrying more than most people see.

The Perfection Trap

There’s a lie that creeps in when you’re trying to get healthy, that if you just stay consistent, you’ll feel better and better and better. And maybe that’s true for some people. But for those of us with long-term health struggles, it’s rarely that linear.

Sometimes, the most consistent thing you can do is rest.

And I don’t mean that in a cute, wellness-influencer kind of way. I mean that when your body is shot and your brain is foggy and everything hurts, it’s okay to take the day off. It’s okay to nap instead of lift. It’s okay to eat the thing. It’s okay to just exist.

You are not required to earn your rest.

Grace Over Guilt

One of the hardest parts of living with chronic health issues is the guilt that sneaks in. You know what to do. You’ve done it before. And yet today, you can’t. So you beat yourself up. You feel like a failure.

Stop.

Give yourself some grace. Real, honest grace. Not the kind where you “rest” and then punish yourself with two extra workouts later. Not the kind where you eat a snack and then spend hours trying to undo it.

The kind of grace that says, “I trust myself enough to know that taking care of me looks different every day.”

The Watchful Eyes (and the Hypocrisy)

There’s another layer to all this that no one really prepares you for. The spectators. Once people know you’re working on your health, it’s like they’re waiting for you to slip up. You mention you’re doing keto, and suddenly everyone’s a nutritionist. You eat one non-keto thing and it’s, “I thought you weren’t eating that anymore?”

Meanwhile, these same people are drinking soda for breakfast and haven’t had a vegetable in three days. But sure, let’s judge the girl with PCOS for eating a granola bar.

Here’s what I’ve learned. Most of the people who point fingers aren’t actually doing the work themselves. They just feel more comfortable when you’re struggling because it lets them off the hook.

Let them talk. Let them side-eye. Let them whisper. You don’t owe anyone perfection.

You’re allowed to change your mind, shift your plan, take breaks, and figure it out as you go. You are allowed to do what works for you. Because in the end, their opinions won’t get you through the hard days. You will.

It’s Not a Linear Path

Some days will be full of momentum and motivation. You’ll hit your macros, lift heavy, and feel like you’re making progress. And then there will be days where just getting out of bed takes everything you’ve got. That’s not failure. That’s life with a body that doesn’t always cooperate.

Health isn’t a straight line. It’s not a before and after photo. It’s a thousand tiny choices made over time, layered with rest, setbacks, and reminders that your worth has never been tied to your productivity.

So if today is one of the hard ones, you’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to not be okay.

And you’re still on the path.

xoxo
-S

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The Art of Showing Up When You Feel Invisible

It’s one thing to be tired. It’s another thing to feel invisible.

Lately, I’ve been doing everything I know how to do. I’m posting, building, creating, and showing up. Still, it feels like I’m operating just outside the edges of everyone’s attention. I keep doing the work, but none of it quite lands. I keep hoping something will catch. The silence is louder than anything I’ve made.

It’s not about applause. It never really has been. But when you give so much of yourself, including your time, energy, and creativity, and the return is minimal at best, it’s hard not to feel like you’re fading into the background.

When everything feels stuck

I’ve hit a plateau in more ways than one.

The scale won’t move, even though I’ve been putting in the effort. My income hasn’t changed much, despite months of work across two businesses. Mentally, I feel like I’m moving through fog.

There’s also the noise that comes from being surrounded by people with big personalities. The ones who take up space without noticing anyone else in the room. They speak first. They speak loudest. Somehow, they’re always the ones being heard. I’m still here, trying to build something real and steady, but it feels like I’m constantly being overlooked.

It’s draining. Not because I expect the spotlight, but because I’m tired of having to work so hard just to be seen at all.

Still moving

Even with all of this, I haven’t stopped. It’s not because I’m feeling hopeful. It’s just what I do.

I still get up. I still write posts. I still plan bakery menus. I still share tools, create content, and show up for a job that pays the bills, even if it isn’t the one I want forever.

An old advisor once told me to get up, dress up, and show up. It stuck with me, not because it was deep, but because it’s something I can still manage. Even on the days when everything else feels out of reach, I can still do that.

Most days, that has to be enough.

There’s no bow on this

This isn’t the moment where everything changes. There are no breakthroughs here. Just something honest.

I’m tired. I’m working hard. I’m doing what I can. Right now, it doesn’t feel like it’s being met with much in return.

But I’m still here. I’m still creating. I’m still planting seeds, even though I won’t see them bloom for a while.

That isn’t failure. It’s just the part of the process people don’t talk about.

A little borrowed peace

There’s a quote I’ve been holding onto.
“Worrying doesn’t take away tomorrow’s troubles. It takes away today’s peace.”

Peace feels rare lately. I don’t want to keep giving it away just because I’m afraid that my work isn’t paying off fast enough. So I’m trying to let myself rest in the doing. Even when no one claps. Even when the numbers don’t move. Even when the progress is invisible to everyone but me.

What to do when you’re in this place

If this feels familiar, if you’re in a stretch where you’re doing the work and still feel invisible, I hope you’ll pause for a second. Acknowledge how heavy it all feels. Then keep going with whatever’s in front of you.

Here’s what’s been helping me:

  • Keep a done list. Don’t track what you didn’t finish. Track what you did. Let it add up.
  • Turn down the noise. Log out. Mute people. Unfollow accounts. Do what helps you hear yourself again.
  • Make something just for you. Don’t post it. Don’t monetize it. Just make it because it feels good.
  • Finish one small thing. One task. One piece of progress. One win you can hold onto.

You don’t need to feel visible to be valuable. You don’t need to be noticed to be strong. You are allowed to keep building quietly.

And if all you did today was continue, that counts.

xoxo
-S

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The Silence in Room 5

Unraveling the 2007 Murder of Anita Knutson

I usually reserve my true crime posts for Thursdays, but this one needed a minute.

With the trial wrapping up on Wednesday and so much emotion surrounding the verdict, I wanted to take a little more time before putting this together. Anita’s story deserves that.

Also – I really wanted this to get out quickly. So today we are out of order.

The Weekend No One Heard From Her

Anita Knutson’s phone had stopped ringing. Her texts had gone unanswered.

By Monday morning, June 4, 2007, she hadn’t shown up for her shift at the hotel. She hadn’t called her mom back. She wasn’t answering when her dad, Gordon, tried to reach her.

She was 18. A freshman at Minot State University. Living in a basement apartment on 11th Avenue NW. She worked two jobs. She checked in often. She didn’t disappear.

When Gordon drove to the apartment that morning, he brought the building manager and a maintenance worker with him. The door was locked. Everything was still.

They circled the building to the back. That’s when they saw the window screen, torn and thrown into the grass.

Gordon looked through her bedroom window and saw Anita lying on her bed, facedown, with a white bathrobe draped across her back.

She looked like she was sleeping. He reached through the window to wake her up.

Her body was cold.

What Was Missing, and What Wasn’t

Anita had been stabbed twice in the chest.

There were no defensive wounds. No struggle. No sign that she had tried to run. The apartment wasn’t ransacked. Her wallet and cash were still there. Her phone was still plugged in. The only thing missing was her pink iPod.

Whoever had killed her hadn’t broken in. Investigators determined the screen had been cut from the inside. The scene had been staged.

And the only person who shared the apartment with her, the only other person with a key, was nowhere to be found.

The Roommate

Nineteen-year-old Nichole Rice told police she’d spent the weekend at her parents’ farm. She wasn’t home when Anita was killed, she said. She didn’t know anything about it.

But her story shifted. She gave different accounts about how she’d found out. At one point she said she heard it from the news. Then from her boyfriend. Then a mutual friend.

She didn’t seem upset, investigators said. Not shocked. Not confused.

And she already knew about the missing iPod, a detail that had never been released.

Trouble in the Apartment

The girls hadn’t been close. Anita had complained to friends that there was tension. Disagreements about chores, about space, about a boy. Small things, but things that had made her uncomfortable. Her friends and coworkers said she was trying to stick it out, hoping things would settle with time.

Nichole wasn’t arrested. There were no fingerprints. No murder weapon. No security footage.

Anita’s funeral came and went. And the case, like so many others, quietly went cold.

A Second Funeral

It would take less than two years for the Knutson family to bury their second child.

Anita’s younger brother, Daniel, was just sixteen when she died. The grief hit him hard. He became quiet. Then withdrawn. He was close to his sister. She had been his person. And when she was taken, something in him unraveled.

Eighteen months after Anita’s murder, Daniel died by suicide.

There is no way to say that without it sitting heavy in your chest. No way to describe the kind of silence that follows two funerals, two lives lost, and no one held accountable.

The Confessions

In 2008, a man named William May told investigators that Nichole Rice had confessed to him the year before. They had been drinking. He said she told him she had killed her roommate. That it had been eating her alive.

Another woman came forward and said Rice had confessed again. This time in frustration. People were gossiping. She was tired of the rumors. She blurted it out. “I did it,” she said. “I killed her.”

Both reports were made. Neither was followed up at the time in a way that changed the course of the investigation.

Nichole Rice went on with her life. She got married. Took a government job. Stayed in Minot.

And Anita’s room stayed empty.

An Arrest at Last

In 2022, the case was reopened with help from Cold Justice. A cold case detective revisited the timeline, the witness statements, and the missed opportunities. That March, police arrested Nichole Rice and charged her with the murder of Anita Knutson.

At the time of her arrest, she was working on base at Minot Air Force as an administrative assistant.

She was taken into custody quietly, fifteen years after Anita was found facedown in her bed.

The Trial

The trial didn’t begin until March 2025. The venue was moved to Grand Forks due to pretrial publicity.

The prosecution laid out a timeline that had never made sense. They presented the confessions. The inconsistencies. The missing iPod. They pointed out how the window screen had been cut from the inside. They told the jury what Anita’s family had known in their bones since 2007.

The defense argued that the case was built on memory and emotion. That there was no forensic evidence tying Rice to the scene. That she had simply been young, confused, and gossiped about.

After five and a half hours of deliberation, the jury returned a verdict.

Not guilty.

The Silence After the Verdict

Nichole Rice walked out of the courtroom.

There are no other suspects. The case is closed. The silence, once again, settles.

And What We’re Left With

There are cases that feel unclear. This has never been one of them.

From the earliest days of the investigation, something in this story stood out. The coldness. The timeline. The changing explanations. The details that shouldn’t have been known. The pieces that didn’t add up.

What the jury decided doesn’t erase what this family has lost. It doesn’t bring back Anita. It doesn’t bring back Daniel. And it doesn’t answer the questions that have quietly lived in this case since the moment Gordon reached through his daughter’s window and realized she was gone.

It’s not my place to declare guilt. But I can say this. Some verdicts don’t feel like endings.

This one feels like a pause. And a deeply painful one at that.

Because the truth didn’t get to speak that day.

The silence did.

Stay Curious…

xoxo
-S

As an amateur true crime writer, I strive to provide accurate and well-researched information. However, please be aware that I am not a professional investigator or journalist, and my work is based on available sources and my understanding of the case. There may be inaccuracies or incomplete details in my posts. I encourage readers to seek out additional sources and verify information from official and professional channels. Thank you for your understanding and support.

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I Miss Her Sometimes (But I Don’t Want Her Back)

There’s a version of me I miss.
Not in a soft, sentimental way. I’m not scrolling through old photos, sighing over who I used to be. It’s more like an ache that creeps in when the house is too quiet, or the bills are piling up, or I’m halfway through my third mental spiral of the morning.

I miss the girl who didn’t know how tired she would eventually become.
I miss the version of me who woke up without dread. Who thought she had all the time in the world. Who thought things were hard, but had no idea what was coming. I miss her unshakable belief that things were going to work out just because she wanted them to.

She wasn’t naïve. Not entirely. She was smart. Capable. Driven when she needed to be. But she lived like the world still revolved around her, and in some ways, that was beautiful. There was power in it. Her sense of self wasn’t perfect, but it was intact. She had style, momentum, and that kind of direction that doesn’t always come from logic. It came from gut instinct and blind optimism. She didn’t have it all figured out, but she believed she would eventually.

Now, I don’t believe in eventuals. I believe in scraping things together. I believe in bracing for impact. I believe in trying to build something better without any real guarantee that it’ll ever become what I need it to be. And that’s not defeatist. That’s just what happens when you’ve been burned enough to know better.

What she didn’t know, and what I do now, is how quickly time turns into a resource you’re constantly chasing. She had energy to burn and didn’t even notice she was spending it. She made money during a golden hour of opportunity and didn’t understand the privilege in that. She poured herself into relationships, convinced that being everything for everyone would mean she was needed, wanted, safe. She thought if she handled enough, carried enough, gave enough, she would eventually be taken care of too.

I’d give anything to sit that girl down and tell her to stop.
To stop breaking herself into pieces for people who would never offer her the same.
To stop assuming love has to be earned through self-abandonment.
To stop confusing productivity with worth.

I’d tell her to put herself first. Not because it’s empowering or trendy, but because she’s the only constant she’s ever going to have.

She spent so much time chasing someone else’s definition of adulthood. Marriage. Kids. A house. The image of having it all together. She never stopped to question if she actually wanted that life. She thought being responsible meant chasing stability, even if the stability wasn’t hers. Even if it came at the cost of her peace. And once she realized that all those things she was killing herself to create weren’t going to happen, or weren’t going to be enough when they did, there wasn’t some big reckoning or transformation. There was just exhaustion.

The girl I was didn’t have it all. But she had something I don’t. Energy. Belief. Forward motion. She didn’t doubt herself at every turn. She didn’t feel guilty for existing. She didn’t constantly question whether she was doing enough, being enough, or falling behind. She got overwhelmed, sure, but she still thought she could climb out of it.

That’s the part I miss the most.

But here’s the thing. I don’t want her back.

I’ve lost things I can’t get back, but I’ve also walked away from things that were never mine to begin with. Jobs that drained me. Friendships that only survived on my effort. Relationships that blurred the line between love and obligation. I’ve learned that just because something is familiar doesn’t mean it’s worth clinging to. Just because someone wants you doesn’t mean they see you. Just because something looks good on paper doesn’t mean it won’t kill your joy.

I can’t say I feel proud of everything I’ve done since letting her go.
I’m still clawing my way toward a version of life that feels like it fits.
But I do know more now.
I know that the only person responsible for holding me together is me.
I know that stability isn’t something you find. It’s something you build slowly, quietly, without applause.
I know that peace matters more than appearances.

I still miss the mornings when I woke up excited for the day, when my world felt small enough to manage and wide enough to dream. I miss the freedom that came with working from home, having a little land, some chickens, a routine that didn’t leave me feeling depleted. I miss the fire I used to have. I want some of that back, but I want it on my terms this time.

Because I’m not trying to be her again.
I’m trying to take what she had that was good and build something stronger out of it.
Something quieter. Something mine.

This time, I won’t waste it trying to prove my worth.
This time, I’ll invest in myself the way no one else ever did.

She didn’t know yet.
But I do now.
And I’m not going to forget it.

If there’s a version of you that you miss too, one that felt braver, louder, softer, freer, I hope you know she’s not gone. Not really. You don’t have to go back to her. But maybe you can borrow a little of her fire while you build something she never even dreamed of.

You don’t owe anyone a full-circle story. Just keep going.
You’re allowed to miss her and still outgrow her.

xoxo
-S

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Gratitude and the Ghosts I Carry

I’m going through something right now.

It’s not the kind of something you can tie up in a punchline or smooth over with a filtered selfie and a good caption. It’s the kind of something that sits in your throat, too heavy to swallow, too stubborn to spit out. The kind that makes you want to cancel everything and also say yes to anything that might distract you from it. I filmed a video already; I talk more about it there. But I haven’t been ready to let it out in writing until now. Maybe not even now. Maybe this is just the pressure valve hissing open because I’ve been holding it in too long.

This morning I saw an image, just a throwaway post on someone’s story. One of those things you scroll past a hundred times a day. But it stopped me cold:

“No amount of regret changes the past. No amount of anxiety changes the future. But any amount of gratitude changes the present.”

I don’t believe in signs most days. I believe in algorithms, and caffeine dependency, and making the best of what’s rotting in the fridge. But this hit like a reminder I didn’t know I’d asked for. Like someone whispering through the noise, pay attention.

Because regret and anxiety are the monsters I know best. Regret follows me like a shadow. It creeps in after the conversation ends. After the silence stretches too long. After the decision is made. It sounds like, You should have known better. You should have done more. You should have seen this coming. It’s not just about the big moments either. It’s about all the tiny ones. The split seconds where I didn’t speak up. The days I didn’t take care of myself. The years I spent twisting myself into shapes to be more palatable, less much.

Anxiety, on the other hand, is loud. It doesn’t creep. It crashes. It’s that buzz under my skin, that hum in my brain that never quite lets me rest. It’s the panic of not knowing what comes next, and the certainty that it won’t be good. It makes me flinch at the future like it’s a fist about to swing. It whispers about failure and financial ruin and being forgotten. It tells me I’m running out of time. That I’ve already wasted too much.

So between those two, regret dragging behind me and anxiety pulling ahead, I rarely feel like I’m anywhere solid. Just suspended between what I can’t fix and what I can’t control.

And then there’s that last line:
“Any amount of gratitude changes the present.”
And I want to roll my eyes at it. I want to dismiss it like I do most platitudes. But I can’t. Because there’s something true in it, and truth doesn’t need to shout to be real.

Gratitude is quiet. It doesn’t erase anything. It doesn’t overwrite the damage or scrub out the scars. But it does anchor me, even if only for a second. It pulls me out of the loop. It gives me something to touch.
Right now. Not someday. Not what was. But this.

And the truth is, I haven’t been doing a good job of being here lately. I’ve been somewhere else entirely. I’ve been in the hospital room that still haunts me. I’ve been on the couch where I numbed out for months. I’ve been in the mirror, picking myself apart. I’ve been in the future, catastrophizing every possible path, convinced none of them end well.

But gratitude says, stop. Just for a moment.

Look around.
There’s a dog sleeping with her paw over her nose.
There’s hot coffee cooling too fast but still comforting.
There’s your body, still trying, still waking up every morning, even after you’ve cursed it and failed it and apologized to it and cursed it again.
There’s the ridiculous fact that in the middle of everything crumbling, someone still said “I love you” and meant it.
There’s breath. There’s sweat. There’s music.
There’s you. Still here.

And that doesn’t fix it. It doesn’t make the grief go away. It doesn’t make the money show up or the fear disappear or the trauma untangle itself. But it’s something. It’s a rope. And right now, that might be enough.

I don’t have a clean ending for this post. No tidy resolution. No three-step plan.
I’m still deep in it. Still clawing my way toward whatever the next version of me looks like.

But I’m grateful you’re here, reading this.
I’m grateful I have words, even when I don’t want to use them.
I’m grateful for the click of the keyboard and the low hum of the heater and the fact that, despite it all, I haven’t stopped showing up for myself, even in the smallest of ways.

That’s where I’m living right now. In the small. In the barely-there gratitude. In the tiny flickers of light that remind me I’m not done yet.

And maybe that’s the whole point.

xoxo
-S

P.S. – Dare I ask – should I create a shadow work series/workbook? What do you think?

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63 Days to Miss Oil City

The Game Plan for Sophie Atomic

So, here we are. Sixty-three days out from Miss Oil City.
I’ve got my registration in, my lashes on standby, and a whole lot of work to do before I strut across that stage as Sophie Atomic.

This is going to be my official Pinup Prep kickoff, and I’m claiming Mondays right here on the blog to track the chaos, glamour, breakdowns, glow-ups, and everything in between.

I’m not starting from scratch. I’m down about 45 to 50 pounds so far, depending on the day. I’ve been in a plateau for a minute (hi, I see you), but I’ve got my eyes set on shedding another 20 to 30 before showtime. Not because I have to. Because I want to feel like myself, dialed up to 11.

What Needs to Get Done

Let’s be real. Sixty-three days sounds like a lot until you write out the list. So here it is. Everything I need to work on if I want to bring Sophie Atomic to life on that stage.

👗 Outfit Planning
I don’t just want to wear something cute. I want a look. A moment. Something that gives cheeky rebel with a wink of spooky sweetness. If I have time and it makes sense, I may call in my sister for something custom. That might be more realistic for Rock’n’Route Rendezvous later in the year.

✅ Signature outfit, with backup
✅ Proper undergarments that lift, smooth, and let me breathe
✅ Accessories that scream “planned” instead of “panicked”
✅ Shoes I can strut in without dying

💃 Walk Like Shalom
You know the moment. Shalom Harlow gliding like liquid confidence. Every movement intentional. Soft, strong, unforgettable. That’s the energy I want to bring. Not just a walk. A presence.

✅ Daily strut practice, mirror or hallway or kitchen
✅ Record myself once a week to spot what needs work
✅ Channel Sophie in every move. Confident, clever, a little dangerous

🎭 Character Building
Sophie Atomic isn’t just a name. She’s a whole vibe. A cheeky little hellraiser with a pin-up pout and a don’t-mess-with-me sparkle in her eye.

✅ Write a backstory or character bio
✅ Start journaling as her once a week to get in the mindset
✅ Practice embodying her in mirror poses and daily movement

💄 Hair and Makeup Trials
I can’t show up looking like I just rolled out of bed unless it’s in a glam robe and victory rolls. Hair and makeup need to be locked in and able to hold up under nerves, lights, and hopefully a tiara.

✅ Full glam once a week to test and time the process
✅ Pick a go-to lip color and hairstyle that feels like Sophie
✅ Learn from every trial what works, what doesn’t, and what melts off under pressure

📸 Mirror Poses and Photo Practice
Photos are half the game. I want to hit my angles with confidence, not guess and hope for the best.

✅ Practice five to ten go-to poses in the mirror every day
✅ Set up at least two full-glam photo sessions, even if they’re DIY
✅ Study poses from vintage pinups and modern icons. Steal like an artist

📉 Body Goals and Stamina
Like I said, I’m already down 45 to 50 pounds. But this next stretch is about more than the number. I want stamina, glow, and confidence. I want to feel strong when I walk on stage.

✅ Stick to my Virta plan
✅ Keep moving every day, even when I don’t want to
✅ Stretch more. Sleep better. Hydrate like a queen
✅ Cut down on self-trash talk. It doesn’t belong in the dressing room

😁 Smile, Darling
I don’t need a blindingly white Hollywood smile, but I do want to feel confident grinning under those lights.

✅ Add tooth whitening to my nightly routine
✅ Cut back on things that stain. Iced coffee, I still love you
✅ Drink more water. Yes, with a straw

🗓️ My Weekly Breakdown
To keep from losing my mind, I’m giving myself themed focus days.

Monday: Blog post, progress photos, walk practice
Tuesday: Hair or makeup trial
Wednesday: Character development, journaling as Sophie
Thursday: Full glam run-through
Friday: Outfit planning and accessorizing
Weekend: Reset, photo sessions, reflection, rest

That’s the plan. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about showing up, showing out, and reminding myself that I’m allowed to take up space and look damn good doing it.

So here’s to the next 63 days. Sophie Atomic is coming in hot and a little haunted.

Let’s get ready to blow the roof off Oil City.

See you next Monday. 💋

xoxo
-S

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Letting Go

Goodbye to My Non-Farm Dreams

If someone had told me a few years ago that I’d be saying goodbye to my chickens, I probably would’ve laughed in their face. Those quirky, feathered little ladies brought so much joy into my life. They were part of my big homesteading dream, a dream I poured love, sweat, and way too much money into. If you’ve been around a while you are fully aware of all of the ups and downs I’ve faced with these cluckerellas. But here I am, writing this post with a bittersweet mix of emotions, knowing it’s time to let go.

Letting go of my non-farm dream wasn’t something I took lightly. It’s not easy to admit when a season of your life has run its course. But deep down, I knew it was time.

A Dream Hatched

When I first started raising chickens, it felt like a step toward a life I had always imagined. Fresh eggs, a little slice of self-sufficiency, and the simple pleasure of watching them scratch around in the yard. It was a dream that felt so right.

But life has a funny way of changing the script. As much as I adored those chickens, my circumstances shifted. The time, energy, and resources needed to care for them started to feel like too much. It became clear that the life I had envisioned was no longer aligning with the life I am building now.

The Goodbye

This week, I packed up my girls and drove them to their new home. A beautiful farm where they will have more space and freedom than I could ever provide. Watching them settle into their new coop was both heartwarming and gut-wrenching.

I cried. Of course I cried.

Saying goodbye is not just about the physical act of letting go. It is about mourning what could have been. But it is also about making peace with the fact that we cannot do everything, no matter how much we want to.

A New Chapter

Here is the silver lining. As one door closes, another opens. Letting go of my non-farm dream has freed up space physically and mentally to focus on other goals.

One of those goals is my health, and I am thrilled to share a milestone I have reached. I have lost 20 pounds at the time of filming. At the time of posting, it is over 30. I have lost 18.25 inches off my body. This progress has been months in the making, and honestly, it feels like a win I really needed right now.

I am learning that progress, whether in fitness, personal growth, or life in general, requires sacrifices. Letting go of my chickens is not just about saying goodbye to a dream. It is about embracing the bigger picture.

Lessons in Letting Go

If there is one thing I have learned through this process, it is this: letting go does not mean failure. It means making a conscious choice to prioritize what matters most in this season of life.

And that is okay.

It is okay to pivot. It is okay to put a dream on hold. It is okay to admit that something is not working anymore.

Because sometimes the hardest goodbyes are the ones that lead to the best beginnings.

Your Turn

Have you ever had to let go of something you loved to make room for something new? I would love to hear your story. Let’s talk about it in the comments below. 💬

And if you want the full behind-the-scenes scoop on this emotional goodbye, check out my latest video on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeYH_eiogvY

xoxo
-S

Posted on

Does Creatine Cause Weight Gain? And Why Women Over 40 Should Be Taking It

Creatine has been a powerhouse supplement in the fitness world, known for its role in boosting strength, endurance, and recovery. But there’s a question that seems to come up, especially among women: does creatine cause weight gain? And if so, should we avoid it? Today, we’re unpacking what creatine actually does, whether it really causes weight gain, and why it might just be one of the best supplements women, especially those over 40, can add to their routines.

What is Creatine?

Creatine is a naturally occurring compound found mostly in your muscles and the brain. It helps muscles produce energy during intense activity or weightlifting. Although you can get small amounts of creatine from foods like red meat and seafood, supplements are an easy way to ensure you’re getting enough to maximize your performance and recovery.

Unlike some supplements that come with a laundry list of ingredients, creatine is well-researched and safe. For women, especially those over 40, it can be a game changer—but many are hesitant, fearing it might lead to unwanted weight gain. So, let’s dive into the truth behind creatine’s effect on weight.

Does Creatine Really Cause Weight Gain?

The short answer is: kind of, but not in the way you might think. Creatine can lead to temporary weight gain, but it’s not because of fat. Instead, this “weight gain” is actually due to water retention in your muscles. Creatine works by drawing water into your muscle cells, which helps keep them hydrated and boosts recovery and performance. While you might see a few pounds show up on the scale, this weight is just water—not fat.

This water retention is temporary and often stabilizes after a few weeks. Once that initial phase passes, many women find that they don’t even notice the extra water, but they do notice the benefits in their workouts and muscle tone.

Why Creatine is Especially Beneficial for Women Over 40

As we get older, it’s natural to experience a decline in muscle mass, bone density, and even cognitive function. For women over 40, maintaining strength and mobility becomes increasingly important—not only for fitness but for overall health. Here’s how creatine can specifically support women in this age group:

1. Preserves Muscle Mass

One of the challenges as we age is preventing muscle loss, also known as sarcopenia. Creatine can help maintain and even build lean muscle, which is crucial for staying strong and mobile. For women over 40, this means better physical resilience and a stronger foundation as we age.

2. Supports Bone Health

Muscle and bone health are interconnected. When we strengthen our muscles, we naturally place more stress on our bones, encouraging them to stay strong. This is particularly important for women over 40, who are at a higher risk for osteoporosis. Creatine supports bone health indirectly by promoting the muscle strength needed to stimulate bone density.

3. Enhances Cognitive Function

Research has shown that creatine may have neuroprotective effects, helping to support cognitive function and even boost mental clarity. For women in their 40s and beyond, this is an invaluable benefit. Many find that creatine helps improve focus and memory, making it a worthwhile addition not only for physical health but also for mental sharpness.

The Benefits of Creatine for Women of All Ages

Even beyond the specific benefits for women over 40, creatine offers advantages for any woman looking to enhance her fitness:

  • Increased Strength: Great for boosting muscle strength without “bulking up.”
  • Better Endurance: Helps muscles work harder for longer during intense exercise.
  • Faster Recovery: Reduces soreness and downtime between workouts.

Recommended Product: 1st Phorm Creatine

If you’re ready to give creatine a try, I highly recommend 1st Phorm Creatine. They offer a high-quality, pure creatine monohydrate that’s both effective and easy to mix. 1st Phorm’s products are known for their purity and transparency, so you can feel confident you’re getting exactly what you need without fillers or additives. (Just remember to keep drinking water, especially in those first few weeks as your body adjusts to the creatine.)

Final Thoughts

Creatine is an amazing tool for women looking to maintain strength, endurance, and even brain health, especially as we get older. While there might be a small amount of water weight at first, the benefits far outweigh this temporary effect. If you’re ready to try creatine, 1st Phorm offers a top-notch option to help you get started.

xoxo
-S

Posted on

Embracing the Power of Saying “No”

In our quest for a balanced and fulfilling life, one of the most empowering skills we can cultivate is the ability to say “no.” As I prepare to share a detailed video about my goals on my YouTube channel, Level Up Saho, I want to emphasize the importance of protecting those goals by confidently using the word “no” when necessary. Remember, “No.” is a complete sentence, and it is a vital tool in our journey toward self-improvement and alignment with our true aspirations.

Why Saying “No” Matters

Saying “no” is not about being negative or uncooperative. It’s about setting boundaries and prioritizing what truly matters to us. When we commit to our goals, whether they pertain to small-scale homesteading, weight loss, or any other life changes, we need to guard our time, energy, and focus. Every “yes” we give to something that doesn’t serve our purpose is a “no” to something that does.

The Challenge of Saying “No”

For many of us, saying “no” can be challenging. We fear disappointing others, missing out on opportunities, or being perceived as selfish. However, the real challenge lies in realizing that our time and resources are limited, and spreading ourselves too thin can dilute our efforts and derail our progress.

The Power of a Simple “No”

It’s essential to understand that “No.” is a complete sentence. It doesn’t require justification, explanation, or apology. This simple, yet powerful word helps us maintain our boundaries and stay true to our goals. By confidently saying “no,” we honor our commitments and ensure that our actions are aligned with our intentions.

Practical Tips for Saying “No”

  1. Be Clear About Your Goals: Knowing what you want to achieve makes it easier to recognize when a request or opportunity doesn’t align with your objectives. When you’re clear about your priorities, saying “no” becomes a natural response to anything that could distract you from your path.
  2. Practice Assertiveness: Assertiveness is the ability to express your needs and boundaries clearly and respectfully. Practice saying “no” in a firm, polite, and direct manner. Remember, you are not obligated to explain your reasons unless you choose to.
  3. Use “No” as a Shield: View “no” as a protective shield that guards your time, energy, and focus. Each time you use it, you are reinforcing your commitment to your goals and values.
  4. Be Prepared for Reactions: Not everyone will understand or appreciate your boundaries, and that’s okay. Stand firm in your decision and remember that your primary responsibility is to yourself and your goals.
  5. Reframe Your Perspective: Instead of viewing “no” as a rejection, see it as an affirmation of your priorities. Saying “no” to one thing often means saying “yes” to something more important.

Saying “no” is a vital skill for anyone committed to personal growth and goal achievement. It empowers us to protect our time and energy, ensuring that our actions align with our aspirations. As I prepare to share more about my goals in an upcoming video on Level Up Saho, I encourage you to embrace the power of “no” and use it confidently as a tool for staying true to your path.

Stay tuned for my upcoming video where I’ll dive deeper into my goals and share more insights on how to align your life with your true passions and purpose.

Remember, “No.” is a complete sentence. Use it wisely and watch how it transforms your journey.

Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences on this topic in the comments below. How have you learned to say “no” and what impact has it had on your life? Let’s support each other in our quest for a more aligned and fulfilling life!

Stay Level Up,
xoxo
-S

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