Where You Are Changes Who You Are
On Kyoto, Paris, Profit as Protest, and becoming someone even you didn't expect.
I didn’t mean to come home with a new identity.
I meant to attend a retreat. To soak in the stillness of Kyoto. To learn from the author of Happy Money and sit in circle with 40(ish) wealth-minded entrepreneurs. To eat noodles. To be present.
And then I meant to go to Paris. To walk the streets with my Mastermind, led by the brilliant Jeffrey Shaw. To be in beauty. To sip espresso and talk business.
To eat my way across the city, chasing another moment of wonder with every croissant.
What I didn’t plan for was the complete and total unleashing of my voice.
The remembering of who I really am.
Since returning from those trips, something in me has snapped into place—or rather, burst into bloom.
I have written or recorded 50+ articles since May 9th.
People who’ve known me for decades are asking what happened.
How I became a content machine.
The truth? I stopped playing the introvert card. I showed up fully to these international experiences. I allowed myself to be seen.
And then I watched, in real time, as my words landed in a room and a near-stranger’s whole body shifted.
That was the moment something shifted in me, too.
The answer is simple: I finally heard myself.
And I liked what I heard.
Here’s what I know now:
Geography is alchemy.
Put yourself in new rooms, new streets, new circles—and the parts of you that were whispered, shushed, or starved?
They rise.
They roar.
They reclaim the mic.
And in my case, they finally spoke truths I hadn’t dared to voice.
Because when I took my work across an ocean, I didn’t just change locations—I changed frequency. I saw how universal our hunger is for truth, agency, and money that feels good to hold.
And I came back with a new phrase that won’t let go of me:
Profit as Protest.
This is the heartbeat of everything I’ve been writing since.
This is the revolution that woke up in my bones in Japan and found its voice in France.
Profit as Protest means we stop asking for crumbs.
We stop apologizing for wanting more.
We stop playing “nice” in a system that was never built for our thriving.
It means we build sovereign profits™—not just leftovers after expenses, but unapologetic overflow. Overflow that funds your life, your lineage, and the liberation of your people.
Profit as Protest is money with a mission.
Profit with a backbone.
It feels like finally exhaling.
Like breathing without asking permission.
Like no longer needing to justify your joy or your overflow.
And the wild part?
Small business owners like us hold more economic and cultural power than we’ve ever been taught to believe.
This isn’t about becoming billionaires.
This is about becoming builders—of new paradigms, new patterns, new possibilities.
This is about becoming so well-resourced that we can afford to be dangerous.
Generous.
Unignorable.
Because the longer we stay in places—physical or mental—that shrink us, the longer we delay the revolution we were born to lead.
So no, I’m not a machine.
I’m a woman on fire with her message.
A strategist turned storyteller.
A CFO who weaves spreadsheets and soul.
This is what happens when community elevates you.
When you say yes to the unknown.
When you give yourself the gift of a new view, a new rhythm, a new mirror.
I thought I was going on a business trip.
Turns out, I was coming home to myself.
And right now? I’m writing this from an airport terminal, waiting on a flight to London. Who knows what version of me will land there—what magic she’ll remember, what truths she’ll unleash.
Stay close.
This isn’t just my story—it’s your permission slip. If you’ve been waiting for a sign, a mirror, or a nudge… this is it.
So ask yourself:
What’s one place—physical or metaphorical—you need to leave behind to finally hear yourself?
What version of you has been waiting for permission to take up space?
If you believed your business could change the world… how would you treat it differently?
PS: The phrase Profit is Protest™ found me in a Kyoto coffee shop and landed in my bones like a prayer.
It’s not just a tagline. It’s a torch.
And I intend to carry it all the way home.
Song of the Day: World is Mine by Lady Bri
Oh how happy am I that you found you. And shared you. I have always seen this woman. That she came bursting out publicly in technicolor and I get to see her everyday is pretty fecking cool. That word choice in the last sentence in case Ireland’s a stop. More please.