Doing the Scary Thing

Learning to Be Seen While I’m Still Becoming

The Moment Before Being Seen

There’s a very specific kind of fear I feel when I introduce myself while I’m still becoming—when my story isn’t fully formed, what I’m building isn’t easy to explain, and the answer to “what do you do?” doesn’t fit into a simple sentence.

That’s the moment I’ve avoided for a long time.

I’m an introverted extrovert. I can show up, connect, hold space—but introducing myself to new people, especially when I don’t have an easy story to explain?

That’s where my introvert takes over.

And over time, that hesitation grew into something much bigger.

The In-Between

When I moved to Wilmington, everything cracked open at once.

I had reached a breaking point financially, but at the same time, I carried this deep, unwavering knowing that I needed to stay on my path—even though I had no idea how to bring it to life.

And then, two weeks later, my dad died.

It felt like the last thread holding everything together snapped right as I was trying to move forward.

In a way I never could have planned, his passing became a financial lifeline—and with it came an overwhelming mix of grief and gratitude that’s hard to put into words.

That support gave me space. Space to grieve. Space to breathe. Space to begin growing into the version of myself who could actually live out the purpose I felt called to.

What I needed in that moment was distance.

Time to process. Time to grieve. Time to begin putting pieces of myself back together.

But over time, that distance became something else.

The Story I Told Myself

That distance became a kind of protection.

It gave me space to avoid having to explain myself—both to people who wouldn’t understand what I meant when I said “healers,” and to healers themselves, as I bumbled through what Healers Unite would eventually become.

If I didn’t say it out loud, it didn’t have to be fully real yet.

And if it wasn’t fully real, it couldn’t fail again.

For a long time, I told myself I just hadn’t found my people yet.

But the truth is, part of me didn’t want to be found—because not sharing what I was building meant I didn’t have to fully face it.

Letting It Be Imperfect

For a while, I stayed in that space—half-seen, half-building, not quite ready to bring it into the light.

And then something began to shift.

Not all at once, but gradually.

I started to feel the weight of holding it all in.

I started to see how much energy it was taking to stay hidden.

And slowly, I began loosening my grip on the idea that it needed to be perfect before it could be shared.

If what I’m building is allowed to be in progress…
maybe I am too.

Doing the Scary Thing

So now, I’m practicing something different.

I’m letting myself be seen before I feel fully ready.

I’m introducing myself without having all the words figured out.

I’m walking into spaces, starting conversations, and allowing it to be a little awkward.

I’m starting to connect with people who speak my language—people who understand what it looks like to build something without a blueprint—and beginning to bring us together.

I’m exploring what it looks like to create space where we can gather.

Letting those interactions build into something, without needing to control exactly what that becomes.

Because what I’m realizing is that connection doesn’t happen after everything is fully formed.

It happens while it’s still taking shape.

Finding My People

For a long time, I thought “my people” would appear once I had everything figured out.

Now I see it differently.

You find your people by letting yourself be seen before you feel ready.

By speaking before the words are perfect.
By showing up before you feel fully formed.

That’s how connection actually begins.

What I’m Learning

I’m learning that fear doesn’t go away before you act.

You just decide to move anyway.

I’m learning that the version of me I was waiting to become…

She’s built by doing exactly this.

Showing up.
Speaking anyway.
Letting it be messy.
Letting it be seen.

Getting Out There

So this is me, doing the scary thing.

Introducing myself before I feel ready.

Heading out into my local community—walking into metaphysical shops, wellness spaces, and anywhere I feel called—to introduce myself and share what I’m beginning to build.

Trusting that the people meant to find this… will.

And trusting that something meaningful doesn’t start with perfection, but with small moments of courage—a conversation, a hello, a willingness to be seen.

And from there—

everything else grows. 🌱

So if you see me out walking around, introducing myself, just know—I’m doing the scary thing in real time. Be on the lookout… and hopefully I won’t be too awkward as I figure out how to turn these moments into something real.