I’m Becky.
Advocate for empowerment, choice, mental health and wellbeing; longtime yoga student and teacher; proud corporate dropout; sober mama raising four teenagers.
I’m a pet lover, book hoarder, plant tender, change seeker, curator of things that smell good. Enneagram 8, anti-small talk, pro-hygge, big hugger. Midwest-born and raised. Mediocre cook, terrible (but enthusiastic!) tap dancer,
50 years old and forever figuring life out.
Mostly, though, I’m a meat-coated skeleton made of stardust – and I believe you are, too.
If there’s a question that stumps me, it’s: “What do you do for a living?” The answer was much easier in the old days when I worked in newspapers, political campaigns, and PR.
If you want an “elevator pitch,” I’ll tell you I’m an empowerment writer, teacher, and speaker, and founder of You Are Not Stuck®.
But that’s starting pretty far into the story. That’s the how I do what I do.
What lives beneath is the what, which is the way I describe my actual work: helping people identify and create the life that is calling to them.
In that way, I’m a soul whisperer. A dream doula. A change catalyst. I’m a guide into the questions for which only you have answers. Poet David Whyte refers to these inquiries as “questions that can make or unmake a life… questions that have no right to go away.” I see the divine badass in you, charm it out, and cheer it on.
The most important part of the story, though, is the why. Why is this work of empowerment what I’m called to do? The answer to that is simple:
I’ve lived a life that looked good on the outside but felt horrible on the inside.
I’ve lived a life that I didn’t feel authorized to change.
I’ve lived a life that I felt hopelessly stuck… and once I found freedom, I made it my mission to help others find it, too.
Please know this: You are not intended to spend this life squeezed and choked and squashed in a vise of Other People’s design, or values that aren’t your own, or an outdated world view; no, you were made for discernment, cultivation, and expansion.
Lines are not meant to be toed, they are meant to be moved and redrawn and colored in and erased until they suit you—and you can do that as many times as you like.
They’re your lines, after all.
Becky is no-bullshit real. She’s got an energy and warmth that’s born from her unique and relentless optimism. Yes, she’s a cheerleader. She’s a whip-cracker, too.
Scott Stabile
Author of Big Love
Becky combines deep caring with a kick-ass attitude (and humor!) to help you break the cycle, form new habits, and find a new — healthier and happier — path for your life.
Amy Calvin
Executive Coach
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A sporadic love letter from me to you with insights, happenings, homework, and the occasional kick in the pants.
Newsletter
If you’ve been thinking about coming to the “Yoga + Hygge” retreat in Branson at the end of the month, this is your reminder to register ASAP! We need the final headcount early this week to order all the goodies. 😊
It’s going to be a most special weekend, with women coming from near and far (from San Francisco to Orlando, Chicago to Austin, and points in between)!
I’ve never hosted a retreat quite like this: slow, easy, focused on connection. One gigantic exhale. And it’s tailor made for you if you’re a woman who is:
* Sober, sober curious, or just ready for a break from alcohol after the buzzy holiday season
* In desperate need of some time away to clear your head, breathe deeply, reset, recharge
* Interested in kickstarting or reviving your yoga and meditation practice
* Longing to make new connections with like-minded women, or spend quality time with old friends
The rustic @villageatindianpoint on Table Rock Lake in the beautiful Missouri Ozarks is the perfect setting for this getaway: crackling fireplaces, indoor pool and sauna, the cutest condos nestled in nature. And we’ll have activities that you can choose to do (or not!), such as daily yoga and meditation practices, vision boarding, knitting, one-on-one walk + talk with me or special guest @amandakuda , journaling, sobriety discussions and more.
You just bring your favorite cozy pajamas and we’ll take care of the rest. 🥰
Lmk if you have questions. Otherwise, sign up link is in bio.
Hope to see ee you! 🤍
#youarenotstuck #hyggeretreat #yogaretreat #soberretreat #hygge #sober #sobriety #alcoholfree #wedorecover ... See MoreSee Less
Vulnerable post to show how the ADHD brain works:
In the course of about 60 seconds, Hungry Me pulled a baguette and some Gruyère out of the frig for a li’l snack. (tbh, it’s nearly lunch time but this is my breakfast because I keep forgetting to eat.)
Anyway…
I started slicing said baguette and thought, “Hmmm, the birds outside on this snowy day might be hungry, too,” so I put the knife down and plucked out some nibbles for them. Realized I was thirsty so poured myself the day’s first glass of water, which requires a healthy dose of Miralax because, well, you know. Decided bread and cheese wasn’t going to be enough so went back to the frig to grab yogurt. Started to get a bowl from the cupboard but realized there were only bread nibbles in this bowl right here; better to go ahead and throw them to the birds and use this than to dirty a new one. (Wait, didn’t I already throw the bread to the birds? How did I forget to throw the bread to the birds?!) Noticed the Miralax was on the counter but that I hadn’t actually put it in the water. Rolled my eyes at myself. Stirred the water to dissolve the powder and remembered that the point of water was not just hydration and elimination, but also to take meds. (Meds, Becky, MEDS!!) Told myself to hold on a damn minute, that the meds were too important to forget and that I’d remember, and would you please just finish one goddamn thing before you move on to the next? (Breakfast, Becky, BREAKFAST!!) Then I thought, you know, “I bet someone else is experiencing something similar in this exact moment, and maybe they don’t have a diagnosis so they just think they’re crazy like I have for 50 years, so perhaps it would be useful if I paused long enough to document this shizz in hopes of making them feel less alone.” So I snapped the pic, poked out this message on my phone, and here we are.
Exhale.
Now, off to take my meds – because they *are* too important to forget – and eat my damn breakfast.
#adhd #youarenotstuck ... See MoreSee Less
I'm 1,800 miles away from Los Angeles and it feels impossible to focus on business as usual.
My heart breaks with every post that comes across my feed. The images steal my breath. "Apocalyptic" and "terrifying" feel like thin attempts to describe the indescribable.
I can't look away, in the same way I couldn't look away from Asheville, Lahaina, Katrina, Joplin, 9/11, COVID, Haiti, Harvey and Sandy and Andrew, the Great Flood of '93.
If your heart and mind are not on your work today but instead on the hundreds of thousands of people suffering right now – the ones who lost their lives, the ones who are still standing but lost absolutely everything else, the evacuated and separated and scared, the exhausted firefighters who are *in a literal firestorm*, the first responders and medical professionals, the ones waiting for news – you're not alone.
Whether you know the city or anyone in it doesn't matter. You are a witness to devastation and despair, and completely helpless to ease it.
That's not nothing.
Please, everyone, be gentle with one another at a time when life is being too cruel to too many.
Los Angeles, we're holding you from near and far.
Photo and excerpt from The New York Times. ... See MoreSee Less