When Nathan and I met, we started dating just a few days later. It was love at second sight.
Very quickly, I learned he was a man of peace and order.
I’ll never forget showing up for a date, excited to see him, and he said matter-of-factly, “Wait, I need to fold my laundry first.”
I’ll never forget showing up for a date, excited to see him, and he said matter-of-factly, “Wait, I need to fold my laundry first.”
Fold your laundry?
Meanwhile, mine was in a glorious pile on my bedroom floor.
I could tell you exactly where “that one sock” was in the mound—it was my own special system of organized chaos.
Nathan, on the other hand, had a closet that looked like a boutique: color-coded, perfectly folded, everything warm and in its place.
I could tell you exactly where “that one sock” was in the mound—it was my own special system of organized chaos.
Nathan, on the other hand, had a closet that looked like a boutique: color-coded, perfectly folded, everything warm and in its place.
Our first few years of marriage were spent finding the middle ground between my spontaneity and his structure.
Between his order and my chaos.
Between his order and my chaos.
There were moments we clashed, of course.
But with time, we discovered something sacred: Peace isn’t about sameness.
It’s about honoring what the other person brings.
But with time, we discovered something sacred: Peace isn’t about sameness.
It’s about honoring what the other person brings.
And wouldn’t you know—
The very things that once felt like dividers between us have become the superpowers we lean on in each other.
After 22 years of marriage, we now live in a rhythm that’s uniquely ours.
His steadiness anchors me.
My fire awakens him.
My fire awakens him.
Where I see possibility, he sees process.
Where he sees steps, I see leaps.
And somewhere in the dance between the two, we've built a life.
Where he sees steps, I see leaps.
And somewhere in the dance between the two, we've built a life.
Not perfect.
But deeply grounded.
But deeply grounded.
We’ve learned that true partnership isn’t about meeting in the middle—
It’s about covering each other’s blind spots.
It’s about leaning fully into each other’s strengths.
It’s about leaning fully into each other’s strengths.
We’ve also scrapped the traditional gender roles.
Nathan does 100 times more laundry than I do, while I do the majority of the cooking. He is a scholar, and I am an entrepreneur.
Nathan does 100 times more laundry than I do, while I do the majority of the cooking. He is a scholar, and I am an entrepreneur.
It hasn’t always been understood—and yes, we’ve been criticized for it.
But I’ve made it my mission to help women see the truth:
The magic in the home doesn’t come from doing things the way everyone else says we should. It comes from partnership. From becoming a relentless finder of the magic that could otherwise be considered a mess. From living life on your terms, together.
The magic in the home doesn’t come from doing things the way everyone else says we should. It comes from partnership. From becoming a relentless finder of the magic that could otherwise be considered a mess. From living life on your terms, together.
In doing so, you’ll build a life that’s worthy of the calling you’ve received. We often talk about beauty as merely skincare, but I know, after helping thousands of women come alive to purpose and incredible health and radiance, that living authentically, and on your terms, especially at home, is essential for happiness. And happiness is a principle of life and health. Never underestimate the power of being happy. It will positively affect your skin, your organs, your health, and the life you live. Take some time to ponder the areas of your life that create consistent sorrow, and consider assessing how you can bring about change.
