Tomorrow, I turn 38.

And tonight, on the eve of my birthday, life looks very different than it has for the past several years.

For a long time, my birthday meant hopping on a plane to somewhere warm.

Bare feet in the sand.

Late nights dancing.

Ocean air, loud music, spontaneous plans, and the kind of celebration that felt expansive and free in a very external way.

This year, I’m home.

In Bivalve.

With my daughter.

My mom.

And a small circle of close friends who feel more like family than anything else.

No flights.

No packed itinerary.

No staying out until the early hours of the morning.

Just presence.

Just slowness.

Just meaning.

And I’ll be honest — the shift has been dramatic.

Life Is Slower Now (And That’s Been an Adjustment)

Some days, grounding into this new pace feels natural.

Other days, it feels disorienting.

Motherhood has restructured my entire nervous system.

My rhythms.

My energy.

My relationship with time.

There are moments where I miss the ease of movement, the spontaneity, the version of myself who could pack a bag and disappear to a beach for a birthday weekend without thinking twice.

And there are moments — many of them — where I look at Bella, sitting on my lap or sleeping beside me, and I know with every cell in my body that this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

This life is quieter.

It’s slower.

It’s more intentional.

And it’s filled with a kind of meaning I never accessed before.

The Space Between Who I Was and Who I’m Becoming

Being on the edge of a new year of life feels symbolic right now.

I haven’t turned 38 yet — but I can feel it approaching like a threshold.

This isn’t about age.

It’s about identity.

I’m standing in the space between who I was for many years — the woman who built her life through movement, travel, grit, and momentum — and who I’m becoming as I step fully into motherhood.

That space can feel uncomfortable.

Tender.

Unfamiliar.

Some days, it’s hard to anchor into.

Hard to trust.

Hard to surrender to.

But I know — deep down — this is my becoming.

Not a contraction.

An expansion.

One that’s slower, yes.

But also deeper, steadier, and more rooted than anything I’ve lived before.

Community Looks Different — And More Essential — Than Ever

As my world has shifted inward, community has become even more important.

Not the loud kind.

Not the performative kind.

But the kind that shows up quietly.

The kind that sits with you.

Brings food.

Holds your baby.

Listens without trying to fix.

The TEW community has grown alongside me in this season — and I feel that deeply.

As I prepare to step into my 38th year, I’m not just building programs, trainings, or retreats.

I’m building deeper bonds.

With people who value presence over productivity.

Depth over noise.

Connection over comparison.

That kind of community is not accidental.

It’s cultivated.

And it’s one of the things I’m most proud of.

On the Eve of 38

Tonight doesn’t feel like a celebration in the traditional sense.

It feels like a pause.

A breath.

A quiet acknowledgment of how far I’ve come — and how much has changed.

Tomorrow, I’ll turn 38 surrounded by love, simplicity, and the people who know me in this version of my life.

And even though the shift has been hard to ground into some days…

I know this season is shaping me in ways that will carry forward into everything I create next.

Into motherhood.

Into leadership.

Into community.

Into the next evolution of TEW.

This is not the life I imagined years ago.

But it’s a life that feels honest.

And real.

And deeply aligned with who I’m becoming.

And that feels like the most meaningful birthday gift of all.

With love,

Megan