Empty Passenger Seat, Full Throttle

Clean Rims & Clear Boundaries

Today was a full-blown get shit done masterpiece.

It started with my non-negotiables—the Glow Getter routine—and my favorite day of the week: NAD+ day. There’s something about a cellular reset that reminds you—you’re built from fire.

The office was a whole vibe.

My first client was a sweet young woman.

Then a gentleman whose growth I’m genuinely proud of.

And a 90-minute session with a regular who rebooks before he even leaves the table.

That’s the 888 energy.

Helping people stay connected to their bodies… while I stay connected to my own path.

After work, the hustle didn’t stop.

Walked Parker—because fresh air really is therapy.

Picked Evan up from college.

Ran through Sam’s Club with a friend.

Then came the manual labor.

I spent the evening washing and drying my car—scrubbing the rims until they caught the moonlight just right.

There’s something about cleaning your own wheels.

It’s hands-on. It’s earned. It’s real.

A reminder… you control the friction.

So tonight, I’m sitting here with a clean car, a clear head, and a very specific set of boundaries.

They say healing is a destination—some quiet place where you finally stop struggling and start smiling 24/7.

Lies.

Healing isn’t about being “happy” all the time.

For me, healing means I finally stopped long enough to realize I’ve been running at 100mph for everyone else—and it’s time to celebrate the woman behind the wheel.

It means staying grounded enough to understand that even when the road gets bumpy, I can move faster now… because I’m no longer carrying weight that was never mine to hold.

March was a record month.

The spa is buzzing.

My memoir on Substack is gaining traction.

Google is doing its thing.

There’s a lot to be grateful for—but the biggest blessing?

The courage to do it scared.

Take tomorrow, for example.

I hit a massive goal, and I decided it was time for a high-end steakhouse kind of celebration. I asked a “friend” to join. They gave me a “possibly.”

Old me would’ve sat on that “possibly” like it meant everything.

New me? I moved instantly.

Because here’s the truth—I shouldn’t have to be scared to take myself out to dinner alone.

I do everything else alone.

I can do this too.

Because I’ve earned my seat at the table—with or without a plus-one.

And if the passenger seat is empty?

That just means more room for me… and a better view of those clean rims.

Tomorrow, I’m putting on that black dress, hitting the throttle, and celebrating the woman I’ve become.

And if you see a shiny car flying down the highway tomorrow night—don’t worry about who’s in the passenger seat.

Just know the driver is exactly where she needs to be.

If your nervous system needs a place to exhale, I offer trauma-informed massage, head spa treatments, and advanced skincare at 888 Spa MN—where real life and real healing meet.