Deep Brews
For the days when life isn't frothy. Where we talk about the burnout behind the brilliance, the doubt behind the doing, and the messy behind the magic.
The bitter blends we rarely talk about.
Scroll through our espresso shots of truth — the raw, the real, the downright relatable.
Some stories don’t come with a feel-good froth.
Here, we go beneath the surface. Past the curated reels and hustle highlights.
This is where we talk grief, rage, motherhood meltdowns, loneliness in leadership, or just that one Tuesday you almost gave it all up.
No judgement. No sugar-coating. Just real people, real emotions, real sips of life.
Brew Bites
Burnout isn’t sexy. It’s silence.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
Motherhood is magic. Also, mayhem.
It’s not the glam hustle culture wants you to believe.
It's not “pushing through” or “being strong.”
It’s your voice going quiet.
Your creativity drying up.
Your joy becoming background noise.
Burnout doesn’t announce itself with drama —
it whispers, withdraws, and wears you down.
So no, it’s not a badge of honour.
It’s a red flag with glit
It’s not the glam hustle culture wants you to believe.
It's not “pushing through” or “being strong.”
It’s your voice going quiet.
Your creativity drying up.
Your joy becoming background noise.
Burnout doesn’t announce itself with drama —
it whispers, withdraws, and wears you down.
So no, it’s not a badge of honour.
It’s a red flag with glitter slapped on.
Rest is radical. Saying no is power. Pausing is self-respect.
Let’s stop applauding exhaustion and start choosing presence.
Motherhood is magic. Also, mayhem.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
Motherhood is magic. Also, mayhem.
It's sacred, yes — all heartbeats and lullabies and magic.
But it’s also a 24/7 emotional lockdown with no exit clause.
You’re the healer, the feeder, the finder of missing socks and broken dreams.
The goddess. The ghost. The go-to for every crisis.
And some days?
You don’t want to be needed.
You want to be left the hell alone.
But here’s th
It's sacred, yes — all heartbeats and lullabies and magic.
But it’s also a 24/7 emotional lockdown with no exit clause.
You’re the healer, the feeder, the finder of missing socks and broken dreams.
The goddess. The ghost. The go-to for every crisis.
And some days?
You don’t want to be needed.
You want to be left the hell alone.
But here’s the thing —
You can hold love and frustration in the same breath.
Devotion and depletion can coexist.
That doesn’t make you a bad mom.
It makes you human.
Messy, magnificent, multi-dimensional.
Just like motherhood.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
She was wild. Unfiltered.
Didn’t need a calendar to feel important.
Now she’s all edge, no exhale.
Leadership gave her a title,
but taxed her softness.
Taught her to speak up—
but not too much.
Be bold—
but don’t scare them.
She’s clawing her way back.
Because power means nothing
if you lose you in the process.
The Invisible Load of "Having It All"
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
I miss the woman I was before leadership ate her.
We asked for it.
Worked for it.
Dreamed of the day we could say —
career, family, friendships, freedom. All checked.
And it is beautiful.
But let’s not pretend it’s effortless.
Behind every “she’s got it all”
is a woman juggling ten tabs in her head
—and still remembering everyone’s birthdays.
It’s not about doing it all.
It’s about owning your all—
loud, proud, and on your terms.