There are certain moments in history when almost everyone from a generation can answer the same question: Where were you when it happened? September 11, 2001, is one of those moments for me. Twenty-five years later, I can still remember that morning with incredible clarity. I was 23 years old, recently graduated from Chapman University and renting a house with college friends. I was at 24 Hour Fitness, like I was so many mornings in my 20s. Ironically, all these years later,

Sometimes the first person who shows us what's possible changes the trajectory of our lives Long before I knew what the word "mentor" meant, I had one. My Auntie Diane. Diane is my dad's sister, and when I was a little girl, I thought she was just about the coolest person on the planet. She was the first person on my dad's side of the family to go to college. She attended Cal Poly Pomona for her undergraduate degree and then went on to USC Pharmacy School. To little-girl me,

Some of the most valuable lessons you'll ever learn come from the classes where you don't excel. For me, that class was journalism. As an undergraduate at Chapman University, I enrolled in a journalism course expecting another semester of working hard and earning good grades. Up until then, I had been a straight-A student. If I put in the effort, I usually received positive feedback from my professors. Then came journalism. My professor, Susan Paterno, believed in teaching jo

A few years ago, I read Soundtracks by Jon Acuff, and it was one of those books that stayed with me long after I finished the last page. Recently, I read a newsletter from Jon introducing a concept he calls Strategic Apathy, and once again, I found myself nodding along. To give full credit where it's due, this idea belongs entirely to Jon Acuff. But as I reflected on his message, I realized it connects deeply to how I have intentionally tried to live my life for years. The in

People often ask me how I manage to juggle a demanding career, maintain relationships, exercise consistently, write, mentor others, and still find time for the things that matter most to me. The truth is far less exciting than people expect. It isn't motivation. It isn't discipline. It isn't talent. It's reps. Over time, I've realized that many of the things people compliment me for are simply the result of thousands of small repetitions. I don't wake up every morning inspire

Sometimes the hardest part of raising independent children is realizing you did exactly what you set out to do. When I first became a mother, I was petrified I was going to screw it up. So naturally, I did what I do when I want to be good at something. I studied. I read the books. I highlighted the chapters. I researched. I worried. I tried to learn everything I possibly could about how to be the best mom I could be. I wanted to get it right. Thankfully, I also had Tim. There