🌴 Day One in Florida — Trust, Sunshine, and Figuring It Out

After a night of solid sleep — 8 hours in my car — I slept like a rock.
Windows cracked, fresh air, full Florida vibe already.

The day started with a walk around the welcome center, then we hit the road to finish out the last 2.5 hours to our destination.

The drive was glorious. 70 degrees, sun shining, windows open!

We arrived and our host family welcomed us right in. We introduced the dogs (they did great), chatted, and went over all the important house details. I got unpacked, put my swimsuit on, and found myself a spot in the sun to relax for a bit.

Charlie immediately lost his mind (in the best way) over the big open yard. Full-speed zoomies. Dirt flying. Tail helicoptering. He ran like he had just been released back into his natural habitat 😂

Then he noticed the pool… and froze. Stared at it. Walked around it. Stared again. Very clearly trying to decide if it was a giant luxury water bowl or some kind of Florida trap. I’m about 90% sure he’s going to jump in tomorrow just to find out. He was so happy, so free, living his absolute best dog life.

After a moment of actually slowing down, I unpacked more, gathered my things, and hit the road to get to Iron Religion for a workout.

The U-Haul still hadn’t arrived and I didn’t bring gym clothes, so I stopped at Ross and grabbed a few things — definitely didn’t try anything on and it’s all too big 😂 — but regardless, I crushed a workout.

After that I ran to Whole Foods (I hadn’t eaten in two days), then headed back to the house to tend to the dogs, eat, and relax by the pool with my journal and computer to get some peptide orders prepped for shipping.

And here’s the part I haven’t said out loud yet…

As I crossed the state line at 11:30pm last night, I wondered if I made a mistake.
What did I do?
Am I going to be okay?
How am I going to afford to eat and live?

Then I woke up this morning to the Florida sunshine and the Florida air… and I just cried. Because I love it here so much.

So much that I will somehow figure it out. 🤍

welcome to florida!

This place was PACKED!

I really wanted to push him in

Christmas, In Between

It’s my first Christmas without my dad.

To be honest — it still sucks. I miss him so much.

There’s no poetic way to wrap that up. There’s just the quiet ache of him not being here, and the moments where you instinctively think you’ll see his name light up your phone or hear his voice in your head… and then you remember.

And still — this Christmas felt like standing in between worlds.

Between what was.

Between what’s ending.

Between what’s beginning.

As tradition, my daughter and I worked out together Christmas morning. Same ritual. Same sweat. Same smiles. We took our usual gym photos — not because we “have to,” but because it’s one of the ways we mark time together. One of the ways we say: we’re still here, we’re still moving, we’re still choosing strength.

After that, we had Christmas lunch with my mom and stepdad at my house.

Simple. Quiet. Full of warmth.

Then it was time.

Finished loading the U-Haul.

Packed up my car.

Did one last slow walk through the house to make sure I had everything.

That walk hits different when you know it’s the last time.

But it also holds a strange kind of beauty — a moment to honor what was, before stepping into what’s next.

Every room holds echoes. Every corner carries a version of you that lived there once. So I walked slowly. I breathed it in. I said thank you to the walls, to the years, to the growth, to the pain, to the healing.

There were a lot of hugs.

A few tears.

And a lot of “see you in a month in Florida” — because they’re all coming to visit in February.

So we’re not doing goodbyes.

Just gentle see-you-soons.

Florida is waiting. A new chapter is opening. Sunshine, ocean air, fresh routines, new rhythms. I don’t know exactly what it will look like yet — but I know it will be good. I know it will be alive. And I know I’m ready.

I’m bringing my dad with me — in my heart, in my strength, in the parts of me he helped shape. I’m bringing this family with me. I’m bringing every version of myself that got me here.

Today wasn’t joyful in the traditional sense.

But it was meaningful.

And it was loving.

And it was full.

And that counts

Matching tattoo’s (memory of my dad/grandpa Warren)

Christmas on the Road:

I left Minnesota on Christmas Day around 3 PM, with the car packed up and my 95-pound black lab, Charlie, as my road trip buddy. It’s always been my dream to head south, and we set off full of excitement. We made it all the way past Wisconsin before needing to stop for gas and to let Charlie stretch his legs.

As night fell around 10 PM, we found a rest stop. Charlie had another good run, and we settled in to sleep right in the car. I was listening to a rain meditation on YouTube to relax, which is why my phone ended up dying overnight. That gave my parents a bit of a scare in the morning when they couldn’t reach me and thought something might have happened!

Charlie, despite being a big boy and a pretty intimidating black lab, was the perfect guard dog. He growled and barked at every car and passerby, making sure we were safe through the night. In the morning, he had a blast running around the truck stop again. We both got ready quickly and hit the road by 7:30 AM. Now we’re rolling along with about thirteen and a half hours to go, and Charlie’s having the time of his life—no whining, just pure adventure.

I can’t think of a better way to start this next chapter. Stay tuned for more updates as we make our way to sunny Florida!

A House in Transition

There’s something incredibly tender about watching a home change hands.

Today the upstairs is being painted.

My things are packed into a U-Haul.

And my daughter — with her cousin beside her — is brushing color onto the walls that used to hold my life.

It’s no longer my space.

It’s becoming her sanctuary.

Twelve years ago, this house was a dream my dad helped me make real. He walked beside me through the process of buying it — encouraging me, supporting me, helping me believe it was possible. My mom and my stepdad poured their time, energy, and love into this place too. We all did. This house was built not just with money and labor, but with care, family, and intention.

And now that same house is becoming the place where my daughter gets to grow into herself as a young adult.

That fills me with a deep, quiet joy.

What used to be my bedroom, my quiet place, my thinking place… is being transformed into a retreat for a young woman who is stepping into her own chapter. And instead of feeling sad about it, I feel peaceful. Like the house itself is exhaling and saying, yes — this is right.

This season is full of endings and beginnings layered on top of each other.

I’m moving into something new.

She’s rooting into something new.

And the house is the bridge between us.

Watching her paint the walls feels symbolic — like she’s not just changing a room, she’s claiming her place in the world. Making space for who she’s becoming, while I make space for who I’m becoming next.

There’s gratitude in this. And tenderness. And a lot of love folded into the middle of it all.

Homes aren’t just structures — they’re containers for phases of life.

And this one is being lovingly passed from one generation to the next, brushstroke by brushstroke. ❤️

Marked by Miles

Many Hands, New Beginnings

As a good friend once said, many hands make easy work.

With my family of ten people, we loaded the U-Haul in about 45 minutes. Everyone stepped in and worked together quickly and efficiently. What could have felt overwhelming was actually very simple when shared.

I also overestimated how much I had. We finished early and still had extra space in the truck. That felt quietly reassuring — a reminder that this move isn’t about taking everything with me, but about making space for what’s next.

There were goodbyes, of course. Not dramatic ones — just the natural kind that come with change. The kind that acknowledge a chapter closing and another beginning.

This move is more than a change of location. It’s a change in how I’m living and working.

I’m 41, which means I’m not slowing down — I’m building. I’ll be continuing to grow Trident in Florida, and I’ll also be building a healing business through MMS Orlando. This move gives me the space and environment to do that in a way that feels sustainable and aligned.

For a long time, much of my life has been about responsibility — raising my daughter, building my businesses, supporting clients, and being there for family and community. That still matters deeply to me. But now there’s also room for expansion, creativity, and choosing more intentionally what I want this next phase of life to look like.

Charlie and I leave tomorrow.

We’re heading toward warmth, ocean air, and a place that supports the next chapter of our lives — not as an escape, but as a natural next step.

This blog is a place for me to share that process with you — the changes, the growth, and what life looks like as it unfolds.

If you’re here reading this, thank you for being part of my life and this journey 🤍