I’ve always been a dreamer, getting lost in the visions I hold for myself and remaining open to believing that anything is possible—that we create our reality, that we can manifest incredible things, especially when our subconscious mind is working with us rather than against us.
And I feel like I’ve gone on to “manifest,” if you will, some pretty remarkable things. From my husband and the family that came with finding him, to housing situations that magically fell into place at the perfect time, to jobs, friendships, opportunities, and even random objects I’ve thought about and somehow watched appear in my life.
I can actually say I’m a pretty strong manifester. And looking back, I think it’s because so much of what I created in my life was truly aligned with my authentic needs and desires at the time I attracted those things into my physical reality.
But this experience has made me think much more deeply about manifestation and authentic alignment. Because what happens when we become determined to manifest something that isn’t actually aligned with who we are?
As someone who deeply believes in the power of the mind, I was incredibly confident that I could make it as a six-figure coach—just like I saw others doing in all the ads that were suddenly populating my social media feeds.
After becoming a mother, my husband’s work in the military moved us to a new state, away from all my professional connections and the job I’d worked at for nearly a decade. As a new mother, I knew I couldn’t return to a traditional job at that time, but I still felt deeply called to serve, help, teach, or support others in some way.
Once we were settled, my algorithm started showing me all the “proven frameworks” for making it as a coach or expert in just about any field. Being home full-time with a young baby—and soon two under two—I knew I didn’t want to commit to a full-on one-on-one coaching practice. That’s never really been my preferred way to serve anyway.
But I love to teach. I love to write. I love creating frameworks, courses, and systems that help people understand themselves and their lives in new ways.
So all these ads filling my brain space every day started sparking ideas and visions for what I could create—something that could work within this new intersection of my professional life and motherhood.
And I went to work.
I created courses and workbooks and ebooks. I updated my social media bios. I learned about funnels and offers and messaging and all the things I was told I needed to do so I could eventually make six figures doing work I loved—just like these ads promised was possible.
At that point, I hadn’t spent much more than the hundred-ish dollars a year for my Canva membership. But I figured the next step in this “proven system” for success was hiring someone who actually knew what they were doing.
So I hired a social media and ads manager with a $5,500 retainer.
I thought this was the ticket. Because if an expert could run the ads for me, then surely success was inevitable…right?
I want to pause here for a moment because this is incredibly vulnerable for me to write. I don’t share this story lightly.
It’s taken me a few weeks to fully process what happened—and to reach a place where I don’t immediately well up with tears when I think about these last couple of years and everything I invested: my time, my energy, my creativity, and a significant amount of money.
It probably wasn’t until this past week that I finally began seeing the experience with some clarity that wasn’t completely clouded by emotion. And I think I finally understand why it didn’t work out the way all those “proven systems” promised it would.
I was trying to force a system to grow from my ego rather than allowing something to grow from a place of authentic alignment.
And stay with me here, because I don’t think this is only a business lesson. I think this is about the things so many of us are trying desperately to create, achieve, attract, and manifest—and the question we don’t ask nearly enough before we begin:
Is the life I’m trying so hard to create actually mine?
So back to my story, if you’re ready to keep diving in with me…
I spent $5,500 for five months of support. We started by running ads for a masterclass that led into my Ayurvedic Metabolism Mastery Challenge. More than 100 people signed up.
One person showed up. No sales.
But I remained positive. Maybe that just wasn’t the route for me, right?
So we honed in on a niche, like the experts suggested. We started targeting women experiencing burnout. I agreed to post on social media daily (even though that’s something I really wanted to avoid) and we began running ads to freebies and low-cost offers. We tried professional women and then a more general audience.
I sold two $4 ebooks and one $7 challenge.
But again, I just had to figure out the system, right?
I kept following advice that had worked for plenty of other people and targeting an audience I felt connected to, but now realize wasn’t the most authentic expression of who I wanted to serve or what I wanted to talk about. At the time, it made sense to me: figure out who’s most likely to buy what you’re selling and market directly to them.
Again, my ego was playing the marketing game.
Follow the system. Check the boxes. Make it work.
About six months in, I had spent hundreds more on ads and was starting to feel discouraged. Honestly, I didn’t even know what I wanted to do anymore or who I was trying to serve.
I loved Ayurveda. I knew I wanted to help people heal, reconnect with themselves, and come into their personal power. I continued to trust that someone else knew better when it came to the approach, the niche, and how I needed to package all of that into something marketable.
So naturally, I thought I needed to try something else. Trust another expert. Because if you don’t succeed, try, try again…right?
And right on cue, my ads started showing me what I apparently needed next.
I signed up for a free call with another marketing company. With a reasonable retainer of only $2,700 and incredible success stories from a more established company with another “proven framework,” it felt like a no-brainer.
I talked it over with my husband—who I have to give credit for being so damn supportive through all of this—and decided this was going to be the golden ticket.
Do what they say. Check the boxes. And I’ll be helping support my family in no time.
They helped me clarify my offer and niche—again, a slightly more specific approach to women and burnout—but there was one big difference with this strategy: I would have to make myself available for sales calls.
This was the main thing I had been trying to avoid because of my capacity as a stay-at-home mom. I could really only schedule calls during naptime or when my husband was home, and that wasn’t how I wanted to spend my precious free time.
I wanted the magic funnel. I didn’t want to perfect my sales skills. But they told me the system worked, so I bit the bullet.
The first few offers and audiences flopped. Zero sales. I was expected to spend around $50 a day on ads, so money was constantly going out without any coming back in.
Still, I kept trusting. I signed up for three more months (agreeing to pay $1500 per month).
Eventually, I finally started feeling a little more aligned with the offer. We shifted gears and began targeting moms who felt disconnected from themselves in motherhood.
Okay. This I could relate to.
I’m a mom. I understand what it feels like to lose pieces of yourself in motherhood—and I had tools from Ayurveda and nervous system regulation that could genuinely help other moms like me. I turned those tools into a course and group coaching program, and suddenly the system seemed like it might finally be working.
I was getting tons of leads and calls were filling my calendar.
There was just one problem: my husband was deployed at this point, so I had to figure out how to make all these calls happen while still trying to be the present mother I was literally teaching other women how to become. I got a YMCA membership and would open sales calls during the hours I could put my kids in childcare or squeeze them in during naptime.
I felt like I was constantly rushing to get my kids settled at the Y or down for naps…only for nine out of ten of the moms who booked calls to not show up.
At this point, I was exhausted, frustrated, discouraged, and feeling broke. More importantly, I was no longer using my limited free time for the things I actually enjoyed—writing, creating, teaching, learning, expanding my knowledge. My free time now revolved around sales calls that people weren’t even showing up for.
Somewhere along the way, the business I had created to give me freedom had started taking my freedom away.
I kept telling myself I just needed to heal whatever limiting beliefs were keeping me from being worthy of success. Maybe I was blocking the money. Maybe I wasn’t believing enough. Maybe there was another subconscious belief I needed to rewrite before everything would finally flow.
But underneath all of that?
I hated this system.
Even though a few wonderful moms eventually signed up, I had to ask myself a question I had avoided for a very long time: Did I actually want this to work?
Did I want to continue living my life around sales calls? Did I want to manage a large group coaching program? Did I want my precious pockets of childcare and naptime to revolve around selling?
I was miserable, and it was affecting how I was showing up for my babies. That’s when the irony became impossible to ignore.
I had gone into this journey wanting to create something that allowed me to be fully present with my kids while using my free time to do work that lit me up.
I had somehow built almost the exact opposite.
My ad expenses stopped just shy of $10,000. I threw in the towel after one final attempt at a free workshop for moms. Four people showed up. No one signed up.
But by then, something had changed. My heart wasn’t in it anymore. I don’t even think I wanted it to work.
Maybe my soul simply didn’t need another sign that this wasn’t the journey for me—not in this form and not in this season of my life as a mother, creator, and human being.
I had also completely burned myself out trying to post on social media every day. My content felt like it was coming from autopilot rather than truth. Eventually I had to ask: What is my truth anymore? What’s my purpose? Who am I actually here to serve? What am I here to create and contribute?
I had become so focused on building the life I thought I wanted that, somewhere along the way, I had become disconnected from myself. And I’ve been thinking and writing a lot lately about [what it actually means to reconnect with yourself], because I now realize that’s exactly what this season has been asking me to do.
Those questions, reflections, and realizations lead me back here, to this moment and to reclaimed free time that isn’t filled with sales calls. Back to writing, creating, and expressing.
I paused my relationship with the marketing company and gifted myself something I hadn’t allowed myself in a long time: space to rest, process, heal, and invite clarity and inspiration back in before deciding what I’m supposed to build next.
So yes, I spent more than $20,000 to arrive here.
And as painful as that number can still feel, this very expensive lesson gave me something I don’t think I could have fully understood otherwise: I was trying to force a proven system from ego rather than allowing myself to create from authentic alignment.
I remember telling my husband on multiple occasions, “If this works for other people, it’ll work for me as long as I follow their system.”
And here’s the important part: I still believe that’s probably true for some people.
These systems aren’t inherently bad. Sales calls aren’t bad. Ads aren’t bad. Group coaching isn’t bad. And the companies I worked with weren’t necessarily wrong about what works (I actually have no complaints with the agencies I hired). For someone whose authentic desire is to build that kind of business, those systems may be exactly what they need.
But that was the question I hadn’t stopped long enough to ask: Do I actually want the life on the other side of this strategy?
Looking back, I don’t think my subconscious was fully on board, but I also see something even more clearly now—my ego was demanding something I didn’t actually want.
I don’t currently want the responsibility of managing a hundred women through a group program while also filling my calendar with sales calls and one-on-one sessions. I genuinely love working with people through their healing and transformational journeys, but that particular model doesn’t fit my life right now as a mother and creator.
Admitting this, and writing through this, has been incredibly freeing.
I missed writing.
When I wrote my book just before becoming a mother, it was one of the most meditative, aligned, and healing things I had ever done. So why did I stop? Why had I convinced myself that the best use of my limited creative time was doing what a marketing framework told me to do rather than doing the thing I couldn’t stop wanting to do?
I’m learning to return to what I love before immediately asking how to monetize it.
Maybe right now isn’t the time to make significant money from my passions. Or maybe, once I allow myself to return to rest and authentic expression, opportunities and newfound clarity will surface in ways I can’t see yet.
That’s where I am today.
I’m writing whenever I can. I’m getting clearer on how I actually want to serve and what I believe my personal contribution to humanity might be. I’m learning again. I’m creating again. And I have joy again.
I’m more present with my kids. I’m significantly less anxious. Life already feels more abundant, hopeful, and light.
This isn’t a story where I tell you, “I stopped manifesting from ego and three weeks later became a millionaire.” I haven’t.
And honestly? I don’t even care about becoming a six-figure coach right now.
For me, that’s huge, because I can finally recognize how much of that particular goal came from an ego that wanted to prove something.
Right now, what’s far more important to me is actually doing the inner work I eventually want to help others explore. I want to help raise consciousness. I want to help people reconnect with their authenticity, purpose, and potential.
It’s painfully clear to me now that I was trying to do that while building my own life from a place of disconnection and exhaustion. I was trying to teach alignment while forcing myself into something that wasn’t aligned.
That’s a difficult sentence to write, but it’s true.
And I think that’s why authentic alignment has to come before manifestation. Before asking how to create something, maybe we first need to understand which part of ourselves is asking for it.
So I’m rebuilding. I’m resting. I’m meditating daily. I’m choosing family over career right now while still making space for the passions that make me feel like me. I feel like I’m returning to my authentic journey.
And yes, I still believe deeply in our ability to create our reality. I still believe in manifestation. I still believe the subconscious mind is incredibly powerful.
But I’m adding another question to the beginning of that process now…
Instead of immediately asking, How do I create this? How do I manifest this? What belief do I need to change so I can have this?
I’m starting here: Who within me actually wants this?
Is it my most authentic self, or is it the part of me that wants to prove something? Is this desire making me feel more expansive and alive, or am I pursuing it because someone else convinced me this is what success should look like?
And perhaps most importantly: Do I actually want the life that comes with getting the thing I’m asking for?
It’s increasingly clear to me that maybe the goal isn’t to become better and better at manifesting whatever our ego decides it wants—maybe the deeper work is learning to discern what’s actually ours to create.
This story won’t resonate with everyone, but if something in it feels familiar, I encourage you to pause and get raw, real, and honest with yourself. Maybe ask yourself if there is something in your life you’re desperately trying to force that simply isn’t working. And then, rather than immediately asking what you’re doing wrong, what if you asked something different?
Is this actually what I want?
Is this aligned with the most authentic expression of who I am?
Do I want the reality that would come with achieving it?
And even if the answer is scary or uncomfortable, is there something you’re being asked to shift, change, release, or step away from so you can return to a path that actually feels like yours?
Maybe stopping isn’t always giving up.
Sometimes, stopping is how we finally hear ourselves again.
