August always feels like a turning point for me. Summer’s winding down, routines are starting to shift, and something in the air makes you take stock of where you are and where you’re headed. This is something I’m currently doing, and there’s one thing I’ve been contemplating for a while now: the Monday Motivation newsletter.
I’ve contemplated for a while now whether I should continue the newsletter. It’s something I’ve loved doing, and if you’ve been on my list for any length of time, you’ve been able to experience it firsthand. Every piece of encouragement included in that email was something I’d want to find in my own inbox. Especially when the week feels like a lot.
The newsletter was born because I believe in the power of a good nudge at the right moment, and I hope it’s served that purpose for the people who’ve been reading it. But the truth is, sometimes things serve their purpose, but only for a season. This one has served its purpose. Letting it go feels a little heavy, the way good endings always do. But at the same time, deep down, I’ve known for a while now that it was time.
How You Know When It’s Time
There’s a specific feeling that comes when something you’ve built has reached the end of its run. It’s not dramatic; it’s quieter than that. The energy that used to flow easily starts to feel forced. The thing you used to do with a full heart starts to feel like something you’re just maintaining. It’s not bad; it’s just done.
A lot of us hold onto things past that point because ending them feels like failure. It’s like admitting something didn’t work. But that’s not what this is. Something can be good, and meaningful, and genuinely valuable—and also have an expiration date. Two things can be true at the same time.
Monday Motivation was real. It mattered to my subscribers and me. But it’s run its road, and it’s complete.
If you’re holding onto something that’s giving you that same quiet signal—a project, a commitment, a version of yourself you’ve outgrown—this might be your permission slip to listen to it. Knowing it’s time isn’t a sign you gave up. It’s a sign you’re paying attention.
What’s Opening Up
When one door closes, another opens. And there’s almost always something on the other side of it, waiting for the space to become real. For me, two things are waiting.
SheSupports has been something I’ve been quietly building in the background for a while now. And I haven’t talked about it nearly enough. It’s a free, private community for women—a place to talk about work, life, vent when you need to, and be met with real support rather than judgment. It’s a place where you don’t have to perform or pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. This is a place for women who want to show up exactly as they are and be for each other authentically. Now’s the time to give it the attention it deserves, and if that sounds like a space you want to be a part of, I want you there. You can join SheSupports here.
And then there’s Operating Differently—the newsletter I’m building for Beachcomber Business Solutions. It’s centered around the same belief that drives everything I do: there’s a calmer, more intentional way to run a business, and more of us deserve to find it. It’s for founders who are done with hustle culture and ready to build something that actually feels sustainable. That one is coming soon, and it’s honestly the thing I’ve been most excited about in a long time.
The Thing Worth Remembering
Most of us weren’t taught how to close things gracefully. We were taught to push through, keep going, and treat endings as something to avoid at all costs. But some of the most meaningful growth I’ve experienced has come from letting something go and watching what fills the space.
It stings a little, even when it’s right. That’s not a sign you’re making the wrong move. That’s a sign you cared about what you built—and you’re willing to care just as much about what comes next.
If you’re in a season of ending something right now, give yourself the grace to feel it and the courage to keep moving anyway. The door closing is not the end of the book. It’s just the beginning of the next chapter.
Have you ever had to close something to make room for something better? I’d love to hear about it—drop a comment.
