What July Taught Me

Some months pass in a blur. July wasn’t one of them.
It was a full month—of people, memories, movement, and moments that made me pause. And while I didn’t go into it expecting any big lessons, July had quite a bit to teach me.

In the past, I often summed up my months with five learnings. This time, it’s five reflections and one forward-looking thought—a perspective that’s been unfolding slowly but steadily. An outlook that, as a parent, I can’t stop thinking about.

Let’s dive in.

1. Reach out. Just because.

July was filled with birthdays—family, friends, the kind you see often, and the ones you only text on their special day. But what struck me most wasn’t the celebrations themselves—it was how many check-ins happened “just because.” A spontaneous voice message. A “thinking of you” text. A "random" photo. And every time, it meant something.

We often wait for a reason to reach out. A milestone, a crisis, a clear excuse. But July reminded me how powerful it can be to reach out without a reason. To remind people they matter. To let a connection breathe without a calendar invite or a birthday notification.

2. Some dates live in your body.

July is also the month I last spoke with my best friend. He passed away in August, but July is when we had our final conversation. And that memory finds its way back in.

I’m the kind of person who remembers strange, often useless details. The exact day we talked. The birthday of your neighbor’s third cousin. But don’t ask me to remember phone numbers or historic events—I couldn’t tell you. My husband teases me for it, but I know these emotional timestamps serve their purpose. They remind me how deeply I feel time, even when I can’t always explain why.

3. You can be proud without making it your whole personality.

I ran (another) marathon in July. And while I don’t want to be the annoying runner, who can't stop bragging, I’ve also realized: I am proud. And I want to own that.
There’s this strange cultural thing, especially for women, where being proud of your accomplishments is often brushed off as “fishing for compliments.” But running isn’t about external validation for me. It’s about my why. It’s about the hours I carve out, the discipline I build, and the strength I find on the hard days.

So no, I don’t want to turn my whole personality into “marathon mom.” But I also think we can all get a little more comfortable saying: I did something hard. I’m proud of it. That matters.

4. Sometimes the thing that feels selfish is exactly what you need.

This month, I spent a weekend away from my son and my husband. Just me and a dear friend in her new home. No nap schedules. No toddler negotiations. No playground scouting.

Was there mom guilt? Of course. But there was also joy. Deep conversations. Belly laughs. Long stretches of silence. And watching a friend navigate her old/new life with so much grace and joy—it left me inspired. Sometimes, we just need that reminder: it’s okay to step away. It’s okay to choose you. And it’s okay to do something that fills you back up, even if it feels scary at first.

5. There’s a gap in support for women on GLP-1s—and it’s weighing on me.

Professionally, something else has been sitting with me. I’ve been having more and more conversations with women who are nearing the end of their GLP-1 journey. And a theme keeps surfacing: fear.

Not just the physiological side—that’s discussed often enough. What’s missing is the emotional side. The quiet panic of “What happens next?” The weight of navigating appetite, weight regain, self-doubt, and identity shifts with little to no guidance. The fear of losing something that finally seemed to be working. The fear of losing control over food.

These conversations have left my head spinning—in a good way. Because while I don’t claim to have all the answers, I do know this: we need more compassionate support for the after phase. Not more shame. Not more quick fixes. More science, more context, more understanding.

That’s why I’m putting together a new workshop:
“Breaking the Hunger Cycle: The Science of Appetite Control”
It’s designed to shed light on the hormones behind appetite, what truly drives hunger, and how to rebuild trust in your body—whether you’ve used GLP-1s or not. If you’ve ever felt like your hunger cues are broken or you’re stuck in a cycle of confusion, this is for you.

This topic won’t leave me alone—because I think it matters deeply. And I want to be part of the solution.

Outlook: Toddlers are sponges—and we are the mirrors.

This isn’t a lesson wrapped up with a bow—it’s more of a lens I’ve been looking through lately. A realization still taking shape.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how toddlers eat. And more importantly, how we eat around them. It’s become clear that it’s not just about what’s on their plate. It’s about what they see on ours.

Our words, our gestures, the sigh when we put on jeans, the praise or guilt we assign to certain foods—it’s all being absorbed. Not just copied. Internalized. And while this toddler phase may feel endless some days, the truth is: they won’t think we’re the greatest forever. But right now, they do. And they’re watching closely.

This idea has been tugging at me. I’ve started looking into research and hope to share more soon. But for now, this is my outlook: that the way we show up at the table—emotionally and physically—matters just as much as the food we serve.

July, in one word? Layered.

It was a month of movement and memory. Of laughter and grief. Of letting go and leaning in.
Of reaching out and coming back home to myself.

And maybe, just maybe, those are the best kind of months—the ones that leave you a little changed, a little cracked open, and a little more curious about what matters most.