Recently, I had a surprising realization: after eight years in business, we don't really know how to sell. We don't have a sales team. We don't have a formal sales process. In fact, we're building one for the first time.

When I started Just Us; We All Struggle Inc., I thought the hard part would be the paperwork, the lawyers, the accountants, the CRA requirements and finding board members. I was wrong. The hardest part has been asking for help.

I'm preparing for a retreat in a few weeks, and part of our homework is to read the book Positive Intelligence. We were also asked to complete an assessment of our saboteurs.
Saboteurs are the voices in your head that create stress, anxiety, frustration, self-doubt or conflict. They are not who you are; they are habits of mind that developed over time and became your default way of coping with challenges.

I was recently on a hike when the person I was hiking with asked me, “Which path do you think is the best one?” Without any thought, I answered, “Whatever one gets us out.”

There’s a lie that many of us carry: that one day, we’ll finally arrive. That after the next promotion, relationship, milestone or certain age, we’ll feel settled and certain. Like we’ve figured it all out. But that’s not how growth works.

There’s a kind of hard conversation that doesn’t come with yelling. No slammed doors. No sharp tone. Just an awareness that didn’t sit right. You’re calm. You’re not reactive. You’re not spiraling. And yet… you’re not okay.

This year, my word is "Safety". Not exactly physical safety, but the kind of safety that's felt when my body trusts my life, because this hasn’t always been my experience. 

If you’ve ever thought, "I love my partner… so why do I feel completely uninterested in sex?" It doesn’t automatically mean your relationship is broken. It doesn’t mean you’re not attracted to your partner. More often than not, it means you’re overloaded.

I recently received a napkin that said: “I'll be home for Christmas and in therapy by New Year's". It made me laugh — and then it made me pause. Because for a lot of people, that’s not a joke. It’s a whole lived experience. For some people, Christmas feels fun and easy. For others, it feels like stepping back into the same space they’ve spent years trying to heal from — just with more lights.

We talk a lot about burnout, boundaries and self-care, but not nearly enough about the quiet, invisible work that drains so many of us long before the day even starts. It’s called emotional labour, and it’s the unpaid, often unacknowledged effort of managing not just your own emotions, but everyone else’s too.

I want to say something out loud that we don’t hear a lot this time of year: sometimes this season is hard. And I don’t mean “a bit busy” hard. I mean the kind of hard that sits in your chest. The kind that makes you feel like you’re doing the holidays wrong because you’re not feeling the Christmas spirit.