What no one tells you about building differently.

Letters From The In-Between:

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​What No One Tells You About Building Differently.

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Dear {{ subscriber.first_name }},

The first time I held a firm boundary, I wanted to hide from myself.

Not because I'd done something wrong. Because I'd done something true, and true felt like collapse. (Want the audio version plus a bonus rant you won't get here? Listen while you read. 🎧)

Last year, I offered to keep something going. A way to help someone I love, to save something I'd poured years into. My CEO title. A business I adored. A mission that felt like oxygen.

But when I sat with it, I realized: I couldn't do it well anymore. The socioeconomic headwinds and the administration's dismantling of DEI had hollowed me out. The fighting, the pivoting, the holding it all together while pieces fell. I had depleted myself so completely that there was nothing left to give. And if I pushed through anyway, I'd be lying.

I'd promised myself I wouldn't lie to myself anymore. Even if it meant disappointing people I loved.

So I chose to exit. To preserve whatever was left of me.

It was the most gut-wrenching decision I've ever made. Not triumphant. Not liberating. It felt like ripping out a part of my identity with my bare hands. For so long, I'd had no boundaries with my business… we were fused. The collapse wasn't the exit. The collapse was finally setting the boundary.

And this is what I need you to understand:

Most women will spend January rebuilding the same structures that collapsed last year.

You are not most women.

You're reading this because you've been here. You've opened these letters, sat with the hard questions, stayed when you could've scrolled past. That means something to me. So I'm sharing this with you first, before the wider list, and before the public posts because I honor your time and respect.

2026 is the year of building differently. Not "new year, new you" optimism. Not another vision board that ignores the body holding the marker.

Building differently means this:

You refuse to betray yourself in the name of building.

It means getting ruthlessly honest about what success actually feels like to YOU. Not what looks impressive, not what earns applause, not what photographs well. What actually lands in your body as enough.

For me? Mastery of self. A deepening meditation practice. Consistent revenue that funds the grants I'll give to underestimated entrepreneurs. Freedom to create. Honoring my sovereignty so loudly that other women remember they can do the same. Mental peace.

When I named that and accepted it, I stopped chasing things that would require me to erase myself to get.

Self-erasure starts small. A "yes" when you meant "no." A boundary you let slide because it's easier. A need you dismiss because you've trained yourself to believe you don't have needs. And then one day you look up and realize: you've become nothing to yourself.

This year, my mission is to be your mirror. Not the kind that shows you what's wrong — the kind that reflects back everything you've forgotten is right. I'm here to remind you that everything you need is already within. To guide you through your seasons, because we're all in-between something. To build individuation inside a collective, because that's how we grow both inner power and shared power.

I will not let you neglect yourself. Self-erasure is not a prerequisite for success, even though that's what we were taught.

So here's my invitation:

If you're ready to build alongside women who refuse to break themselves apart, I host a free monthly gathering called the Glow Up Connection Hour. It's not a webinar. It's not networking. It's a curated room for women navigating the space between who they were and who they're becoming, in life, in business, with self.

Our next gathering is January 15th at 11am PST.

​Join us here.

Am I building a secret society? Maybe. ;)

But the only way in is to show up. For the room. For yourself.

Con amor,
​Vanessa

P.S. If this landed, reply and tell me: what are you refusing to betray this year?

P.P.S. Have you picked your word of the year yet? I'd love to hear it, just hit reply.

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I don't know if you know this but I spend hours writing these letters. Sometimes I pop an edible and let myself vibe out. Other times it's a 3am, I need to write this down kind of letter. Either way, I'd love your support as I build a world where success doesn't come at the cost of self-erasure. And I do this by honoring the gap between who you were and who you are become. We're all in the middle of something and I know these letters will make you feel a little more yourself, and a lot less alone.