Just do it.

We’ve all heard it before—famously adopted by Nike, the phrase “just do it” is motivating as hell. For me, it’s been a guiding light for years.

Before I was a health coach, I was a mindset coach. For two years, I worked with people on the stories they tell themselves—stories that shape their sense of identity, limit their potential, and block them from taking action. And while each story was unique on the surface, every single one of them was rooted in the same underlying fear.

But before I get to that, I want to take you back to how I even ended up doing this kind of work. Because for the first year, whenever I told people I was a mindset coach, they’d look at me sideways: “Wait, so… you coach people just on their mindset? Is that even a thing?”

Let’s rewind to March 2021—before the coaching, before the business, before I even considered entrepreneurship.

I had just made the decision to leave an almost five-year relationship. It wasn’t a clean, confident decision. It was terrifying. I had so many fears running through my mind, including:

“I’m going to be alone forever.”

“I’m never going to have any friends.”

“What if my family hates me for doing this?”

“Am I making the wrong decision by ending this?”

Not everyone will relate—but some of you will. So I’m not sparing the details.

I had wanted to leave that relationship for the last two years of it. But I stayed because it felt like the right thing to do. Everyone around me was in relationships. And the only identity I saw modeled by the women around me was “girlfriend” or “wife.” No other aspirations. No sense of self. Just belonging to someone else.

And while I knew, deep down, that I was meant for something more, it felt like no one else could see that version of me. In that relationship, my value seemed to exist only in the role I played for him. It was one of the loneliest feelings I’ve ever experienced—being in a relationship and still feeling completely alone.

With time (and a lot of healing), I’ve come to see that it wasn’t just about the relationship or my partner. It was me. My own lack of courage, my own fear of being alone, my own belief that I wasn’t worthy of something deeper or better.

There’s a quote I read later that stopped me in my tracks:

“I am not who you think I am. I am not who I think I am. I am who I think you think I am.”
— Charles Horton Cooley

Yeah. Read that again.

That fear of being alone? It was keeping me from real connection. Not just with him, but with myself.

Eventually, the pain of staying became greater than the fear of leaving. That’s when real change happens. I found a level of courage I didn’t know I had, and I finally ended it.

What came next? I moved to a new city. I quit my stable job. I bought my dream car. I got five tattoos… and yes, I cut my own bangs. From the outside, it might’ve looked like I was spiraling—and in some ways, I was. But in the most necessary way. I was finally doing it. Taking the action I’d avoided for so long. Facing my biggest fear head-on.

And you know what? I regret none of it.

That single “just do it” moment rippled out into hundreds of others. I started my business, I found aligned friendships, I run impactful events, I travel when I want to… I even started a podcast recently! Check it out here. The cool thing is this hasn’t just been in my life, but in the lives of my clients, too. Because once you prove to yourself that you can survive your fear, you stop letting it control you.

Now, let me circle back to that common fear I mentioned earlier.

It’s not really about failure.
It’s not about being single.
It’s not even about not hitting the goal.

The fear is almost always about worthiness.

We create these stories—these fears—because they give us something to hide behind. If we’re afraid of being alone, or afraid of failing, we don’t have to admit the deeper belief: “I don’t think I’m worthy of more.”

We don’t believe we’re worthy of real love.
We don’t believe we’re worthy of the body we dream of.
We don’t believe we’re worthy of building a successful business.
We don’t believe we’re worthy of friendships that are loving, safe, and judgment-free.

I didn’t think I was worthy of better love. So I convinced myself that being “just a girlfriend” was all I could be. And I projected that belief onto everyone else—telling myself that they saw me that way, when really… I did.

If you’ve read this far, here’s what I want you to take with you:

You are worthy of more than you believe.

And the second you take action on the fear you’re holding onto, you’ll give yourself the gift of seeing what’s underneath it.

If you’re staying stuck because you think it’s what’s expected of you, remember: this is your life. Not theirs. Not your parents’. Not your partner’s. Not society’s.

At the end of the day, you are the one who wakes up and falls asleep in your body. No one else.

So take the leap. Say the thing. Leave the job. End the relationship. Start the business. Invest in your health. Speak your truth.

Just do it.