One year ago today — yes, on Election Day — I quit my job. (IYKYK.)

What followed was 364 days of pinch-me, is-this-real-life moments.

I’m always a firm believer in the universe doing its thing. In fact, every day — without fail — I say the following mantra loudly and with my full chest: “All of the energy I have received … good or bad … right or wrong … I give back out into the universe where it belongs.” (Try it. Then repeat it a dozen more times. Seriously. It’s even more powerful if you’re standing barefoot in the grass. For realz.)

Turns out, cutting ties that bind allowed me to not just ride a wave, but a tsunami of good fortune. I think it’s safe to say, it’s been my best year ever.

Let’s take a look back at just one highlight from each month, shall we?

November: Less than twenty four hours after I quit (IYKYK), Norwegian Cruise Lines called. “Hey! Wanna host a Moroccan cruise with a little one-day stop in Seville, Spain next fall? PS. It’s KC’s sister city. We’re calling it Morocco À GoGo.”  Uh, that sounded like a 1960s spy movie starring Ann-Margret. (I swear I signed the e-contract within 90 seconds of their offer. Bless.)

December: Remember that celeb-centric book I casually wrote during the pandemic? Neither did I. But then — because my life works in mysterious ways — a publisher suddenly wanted it. I smugly assumed I was done writing. They assured me I was not. “You’re maybe, maybe 35% done,” my publisher said in an admonishing tone. Cue a caffeine fever dream writing sprint for the next two months, including February — where I wrote one chapter every single day. (I made the most of unemployment, believe me.)

January: I rang in New Years in Aruba. On a cruise. With my bestie, my bestie’s twin sister (a co-bestie), and my bestie’s brand-new fiancé. A best-fest, if you will. And the energy the four of us created sustained me the entire winter. (So did the glowing orb of sun in the Caribbean skies.)

February: I had the greatest photo shoot of my entire life. I swear theRYEstudio snapped one thousand photos. Towards the end though — stick a fork in me, I was done. Amy Ashurst kept shooting. The final click? (Yes, the one above.) It became my book cover.

March: Square Peg Marketing + Branding offered me the role of Director of Brand Development. Think Mad Men but with less smoking and more deal closing. I started the week of my birthday. Coincidence, I think not. That being said, this full-service agency can help you reinforce, rebrand, or reinvent your business with their spot-on blend of analytical storytelling. (Restaurants and entrepreneurs, this means you!)

April: I got the single worst beard trim of my life. My friends scream-died laughing. Schadenfreude was in full effect. “Your jawline apparently now starts at the top of your ear,” they yelled. Their joy at my misfortune? Worth it.

May: I did more big-name celebrity interviews than I had done in the entire previous year. Helen Hunt. Patti LuPone. Nancy Wilson. Kevin Pollak. Cheyenne Jackson. The entire Big Slick crew. Because timing is everything, I slammed ten more riveting chapters into my book — on deadline week, no less.

June: After five long years, Lonely Planet — the Beyoncé of travel publishing — finally returned my call. They asked me to write a feature on the Iowa State Fair. (It’s part of a hardcover book on the Midwest coming out next year.) I cried a singular deep fried tear, folks. As if that weren’t amazing enough, they then handed me two more KC-centric articles later that month. Read on! I gave Kansas City the glorious glow-up it deserves:

• The Ultimate Weekend in KC
• A First-Timer’s Guide to KC

July: I flew across the country to watch my bestie front an 80s tribute band on the 4^th of July! Fireworks on a mountaintop in Asheville? Getting rocked like a hurricane? Eating my weight in shrimp and grits? Perfection.

August: Northern Montana became my mothership. I’m not an outdoors-y person per se, but when the house you’re staying in perches squarely above Flathead Lake, you find yourself sunning yourself like a lizard on a rock in the hinterlands. If there’s anyone capable of getting hypothermia and a sunburn simultaneously, it’s me.

September: My book “You Have Four Minutes” hit shelves on 9/9. My energy practitioner picked the date … because, of course, she did. The launch party at Jasper’s Ristorante was wall to wall people. Rave reviews followed, including a fluffy feature piece in The Kansas City Star. If you haven’t read my book, prepare to laugh, cry, and be in awe that I’ve chatted up eleven Academy Award winners. (Hint: it’ll make the perfect Xmas gift.)

September/October: I debuted a spokesperson gig that combines every single thing I am good at — talking, connecting, and continued talking. I became the host of “Artful Connections Along the Streetcar.” This monthly arts podcast — brought to you by KC Studio — deep dives into how the KC Streetcar and the World Cup are shaping our cultural landscape. It was a huge hit right out of the gate.

November: She’s a goddess on the mountain top. Burning like a silver flame. Of course, I’m talking about B-52s’ songstress Cindy Wilson. Not only did she write the heartfelt foreword for my book, we had an amazing interview about her new EP that was so in-depth, it garnered two feature stories, one in my blog and one in The Pitch KC. (Oh, and she signed my book too. Natch!)

So yeah … quitting my job may have been the most fulfilling and productive thing I have ever done. (IYKYK.)

Clearly, I chose wisely. The universe only confirmed it.

Because what unfolded next was not luck. It was alignment. It was me choosing myself at full volume. It was finally living at my highest setting. It was proof that when you take one rogue brave step into the great unknown the universe starts hauling in good stuff like it has been sitting on it for years. (Yes, that’s a B-52 pun for those of you who caught it.)

And now here I am one year later — happily sitting on a mountain of affirmation.

That being said, if you’re on the edge looking over and wondering if you should make a big-ass, bold move that scares you a little. You probably already know the answer.

Jump. The net appears.

The universe has been waiting for you — and it wants you to have an sch-amazing 2026!