110 people unsubscribed 👀

{{ subscriber.first_name }}, I'm going to tell you something most people won't.

🎧 Listen on Spotify / Apple — reflection at the end.

Every time you grow, you will lose people.

As you step into a bigger, truer version of yourself, some of the people who knew the old you can't come with you. They knew who you were. They never signed up for who you're becoming.

I watched it happen to me this week. I promoted the FAFO challenge for eight days straight. It sold out, and I'm proud of that. In the same timeframe, 110 people left these letters. A few marked me as spam. A few marked them inappropriate. Not kidding.

There was a version of me who would have read that number and spiraled for a day. Taken it personally, wondered what I did wrong. I know her well. She ran the show for a long time. Not anymore.

We live in a world where everyone thinks they're a critic, and that is what keeps women small.

You feel it too.

The second you stop performing and start becoming who you actually are, some people get the ick. They got comfortable with a version of you that was easy for them, and you just changed the terms on them.

Let them go. That's the Paradox of Growth.

You don't want people who can be bought. You don't want fake fans. You want the ones who clap for you when you tumble, because you will tumble. Everyone does. Every person you admire has a pile of losses behind them that they never posted about.

Visibility works like a filter. It sorts.

I talk about my tumbles. I built a multimillion-dollar company, exited, and started over. I'm building again, differently, with many of you watching. I show you the falls. But what separates the good ones from the greats is simple… they fall, and they don't move in and live there. I take what the fall taught me, dust myself off, and build the next thing.

I am realizing more and more that every time I write a letter, it's a risk. Someone might be offended. Someone might be triggered. But, I send it anyway. Because I lived by other people's comfort for years and it burned me the fuck out.

There's a nurse who spent years sitting with people in their final days. The thing they grieved most at the end was simple. All the times they wanted to try something and talked themselves out of it.

Don't be that person, at the end of their life wondering what they could’ve done differently.

You can look back at the time you've already spent, or you can look at the time in front of you and use it. I hope you use it.

Your growth, your truth, is going to cost you people.

Pay the tab. It's the best money you'll ever spend.

On the other side is the woman you already know you are. Bigger than the vision board. The one who wakes up in her own body thinking, I can't believe I get to live this life.

I have that and I’m building the rocket as I fly it. Without any shame about what people may or may not be saying. Building a life that feels good even on the hard days. Because the hard days remind you of who you are and who your people are.

So if I can leave with one more thing… don't get too comfortable with this version of me. I'm going to change. I expect you to, too.

Until the next letter,
Vanessa

Reply and tell me who you're becoming.

P.S. The FAFO challenge is closed for August. A few of you said these letters landed in your promotions folder. Move them to your primary inbox so you don't miss the next round.

💸 TLDR 💸

Every time you choose to honor yourself, you will lose people. That is the math. The invoice. The receipt. The tax you pay for a life that actually feels right in your body. A shrinking circle is what growth looks like from the inside.

When you can't see the path, that is your sign that you're the one meant to build it. The only way to build it is to put yourself out there and try. Life is long, but time is fast. Give yourself the chance to try something. And if it doesn't work, you try again.

Today's Letter Is Sponsored Superhuman

​Vanessa Santos