The Things I Never Thought I'd Let Go Of

Hello, you. I’m writing from my parent’s dining room table, sipping on a mango iced tea and basking in the AC because it’s a blazing 100 degrees outside. But don’t worry, the heat hasn’t stopped us. Over the past week, we swam in the ocean, ate french fries on the beach, recreated an adorable Pinterest photo, had multiple pool days, played mini-golf, watched some fireworks, licked ice cream cones, enjoyed corn on the cob, reunited with old friends. And you better believe this soul of mine took in every single coastal view.

Now, as I sit here one day away from flying back to Georgia, I’m a little sad, of course. But I can also feel how much I’ve softened into this version of my life. And thank heavens for that. This time, I didn’t walk through the door anxious, bracing for the waves of grief to hit me. Instead, I soaked up the experience, feeling the preciousness of being here with the people I miss the most.

And when I really think about what shifted — what really made this possible — it all comes down to one thing:

A LOT of letting go.

I shed what feels like a hundred layers of a former self and a former life.

Painful? Yes. Necessary? Also, yes.

It needed to happen. I’m glad it did. And I have our unexpected relocation down south to thank for it. The whole thing brought me to my knees and it loosened my grip on all the parts of me that no longer fit. And turns out, there were quite a few.

Oh, did I have my heart set on a forever life in coastal New Jersey. Think: beautiful homes with hydrangea lined fences, beach clubs with pools and snack bars, boating marinas aplenty, views of New York City on a clear day. And just an overall chill vibe that I remember from childhood. I pictured us settling into a house where we could easily pop in for visits with extended family, gather for holidays, and send our kids to the same schools. And of course, spend summers planted by the ocean.

Naturally, the decision to relocate to Georgia shattered that vision — my heart shattering right along with it. But what I’ve come to believe is that while I will always love the ocean and dream of that life, it’s clearly not meant for me right now. Which has opened me up enough to really see what Georgia’s given me — more quality time with my kids, a more relaxed default mode, a bigger home, a dreamy soaking tub, a wooded backyard, and the mental space to build what’s next for me professionally.

Letting go of the attachment to live up north helped me realize that while I have desires, sometimes there’s something bigger at play — that the Universe is working on my behalf to give me what I really need in this season of life. So I’ve made peace with it, which allows me to enjoy the time I get to spend in NJ. There is no question that me and the coast will always have a connection — the dream still lives on, I’m just holding it more lightly now.

The number one thing I’ve been the most proud of in my adult life is the fact that I built my own business. Somehow I turned an unexpected job loss into an opportunity to test out freelance copywriting and that turned into something far beyond what I had ever imagined. I got to use my innate gifts as a force of good in the world and earn more than my 6-figure corporate salary.

I believed it would be my forever career.

That is, until it started to feel “off.” While I couldn’t admit it at the time, I was growing tired of sharing the same message over and over again. And underneath there was a craving for something new and different — something less one dimensional, something deeper. And even though I went through a beautiful rebranding process, business just wasn’t bustling anymore.

The move to Georgia gave me the opportunity to look it all squarely in the face and finally come to terms with the fact that it not only wasn’t working anymore but it wasn’t what I wanted anymore either. At first, it was “I’ll press pause on this for a few months”. But by then, I just knew — it was time to be done. Letting it go opened up an uncomfortable amount of space for me. I hated not knowing what was next. But once the dust settled, I could hear my truth rising to the surface, coaxing me to write again — just for the hell of it. No agenda. No pressure. No plan.

When you’ve got an online business, ordinary moments become content opportunities. Breakfast. A walk in the park. Journaling. Dancing with your kids. Decorating your house. All of it becomes something to capture for the sake of showing, sharing, and selling, instead of safe-keeping.

I was that person for so long. Announcing my kids’ births. Documenting my day as an entrepreneur. Creating videos of everything with the intention of chopping them into reels. Reporting the latest on IG stories. In some ways it was fun. In others, it kept me from really taking in the moment. And after a while, I hated that.

Which is why when July 1, 2025 rolled around, I decided to stop posting for one month. And then, that one month turned into one whole year — a much-needed period that helped me break the habit of looking for sharable moments, and instead BE in the moment. This alone has helped me become so much more present and engaged in my real life.

Honestly, I wasn’t planning to let this one go. At first, I was an entrepreneur “taking a break” — and in some ways, I still am. But what I realize now is that I had been unconsciously disengaging from this identity for years — with every piece of content I resisted creating, every reel that got 5 likes, every sales cycle I completed under my goal enrollment number. Gradually, I stopped wanting to be part of the scene, the race, the always reaching. I stopped wanting to be someone who believed she wouldn’t officially “make it” until she was a millionaire.

All of it was replaced by a desire to live a much simpler life. So, I finally leaned into that truth, stopped identifying as an entrepreneur above all else, and started exploring who I am with a clean slate. A human. A mother. A wife. A writer. A curious person. Someone who wants to build a life that actually fits me instead of one that looks impressive from the outside. And it has helped me create the most authentic body of work I’ve ever created.

Ok, so this one took me a minute to wrap my head around. Because I love making my own money. And I decided a long time ago that I would never be financially dependent on anyone else — namely my husband. There are so many reasons for that, which could be its own post. Needless to say, making $20,000 a month from my very own business made me feel really good. I was free to buy or invest in whatever I liked. I was contributing to our life and household income. I was an independent woman!

When I stepped away from my business, I essentially went from making thousands to making almost nothing overnight. Which freaked me the eff out! It was so weird to watch my business bank account dwindle down to a few hundred bucks and live off of my husband’s salary. But I reminded myself of something very important: this is temporary. I’m at the start of a new chapter, adjusting to a brand new life, and figuring out the most aligned professional path. It’s ok to let my husband take the wheel financially and lean into the space I now have to do what feels the most exciting to me.

It’s felt like a long exhale. Where I can relax into these circumstances and appreciate them for what they are — a beautiful opportunity to align myself with what I feel most called to do. And truly that has been the greatest gift. So while I am so looking forward to the day when my business bank account is filled with cash again, I feel grateful for the chance to take a breather and figure out what’s next.

Something interesting happens when you start examining how you’ve been living. With each layer peeled back and released, I could see how automatic it was to reach for my phone constantly. While the kids were watching a show, while they swam in the pool, at the red light, in line at the grocery store, after popping chicken in the oven, on roadtrips… everywhere, really. I could see how staring at the lives of other people over and over again was distracting me from my own life. And often making me feel scared, anxious, and like the world was about to end.

So in February, I decided to remove it from my phone entirely so that I couldn’t look at it. What I really wanted was to be more engaged in my life — more present, more available, more in tune. Instead of essentially living half here, half somewhere else. One app removal turned into a dozen — from Pinterest to Substack to shopping apps. Here we are almost 6 months later and it has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Because with a phone that no longer holds me captive, I have relearned how to be captivated by what’s real and alive and ordinary.

It took time for the reflex of reaching for my phone in open moments to relax, lessen, and mostly disappear. It took time for me to stop looking for something stimulating when I was bored. And it also took a little while to be okay with the calm and stillness of everyday life. But now, it feels like I’ve returned to something comparable to life before the iPhone had a million bells and whistles. To when it felt like the place I was really spending my time vs. spending it scrolling.

Honestly, this one wasn’t intentional. It just happened — a natural byproduct of all the shedding that came alongside it. The more I let go of everything else — the life I thought I was supposed to live, the business I’d built, the pressure to perform, the need to document every moment…

…The less interested I became in being the ideal version of me.

For years, I’d carried the idea of her around with me. She had the thriving business, the beautifully decorated home, the fit body, the effortless routines, the perfect balance, the overflowing bank account. She always seemed just a few steps ahead of me — I just needed to check a couple more boxes.

I didn’t realize it then, but I wasn’t actually after all “the signs I’d made it.” I was after a feeling and I thought perfect Blair was the only way…

To feel content. To feel at peace. To feel enough.

But somewhere along this crazy turn of events, all the old stuff that fell away and I realized I didn’t need the “perfect” version of me, or the perfect version of my life, to feel those things. They had become available right here — all I had to do was notice.

Funny how that happens 🤔.

You spend years believing the life you want is waiting somewhere out there after one more achievement, one more opportunity, one more milestone. And then one day you look around and realize the feeling you were chasing arrived while you were busy letting go.

Maybe all that letting go simply gave me fresh eyes. The ability to really see how good I already have it.

Big hug,

P.S. One of the biggest contributors to feeling content in this version of my life has been simply being in my life. Once I created a little more space, everything else began to shift. That's the heart behind Life Unlooped: a 45-day experiment that helps you create enough room to reconnect with yourself and your real life.

The next round begins Monday, July 13th, and it's available to all paid subscribers. If you've been craving this kind of reset and a chance to step out of the noise and reconnect with what matters most, you can become a paid subscriber here.

If this piece spoke to you, tap the heart or comment below. Knowing whether or not this resonated seriously makes my day. And if someone in your life might need this reminder too, feel free to share it with them. Thank you for reading — I’m so grateful you’re here.

If you’re feeling the pull create more space in your life, the lowest hanging fruit is spending less time on your phone. Life Unlooped is a 45-day experiment to help you become less attached to your device — one small choice at a time. If that sounds like something you want to explore alongside others, join us by becoming a paid subscriber. Starting Monday, July 13th.