It’s no wonder why so many of us feel driven to “find our purpose”. We’ve turned it into a destination where everything finally falls into place.

Until we arrive there, it’s easy to feel like something is missing. We can spend years building our lives around milestones that promise security, while secretly hoping they’ll also tell us who we are.

So of course it’s tempting to believe that purpose is the moment when we finally get to be our authentic selves, all of our struggles make sense, and life begins to feel kind and trustworthy.

At least, that’s where I placed my hope for a long, long time.

 

Before I started S&S, I wasn’t asking, “What is my life’s mission?”

I was following a feeling. An appreciation for vintage jewelry that I discovered through my dad’s lifelong love of antiques. A thirst for adventure and risk. A desire to learn something new. Without realizing it, I set out on a quest— What kind of life and business do I want to build?

At the time, I thought I was building a vintage business that could support my lifestyle in San Francisco. Learning how to market, sell, manage inventory, grow sales, and build community. But looking back, I realize I was following a much deeper question— How do we trust ourselves enough to keep following what feels alive?

Even when we get stuck. Even when we want to quit. Even when we fail. Even when it seems like no one cares. Even when we succeed and the next question appears.

Years later, that same question followed me into my coaching work. The medium changed, but the question evolved. Instead of helping people express their unique personal style, I was now helping them trust themselves through what they create.

But I think the question has evolved again. Because after fourteen years of building, creating, experimenting, and pivoting, I no longer wonder if I can trust myself to follow what feels alive.

I know I can. The question I’m living now is more like— How do we build a life where what makes us feel alive can also sustain us?

Over the last few years, I’ve been deepening into that question through writing, teaching, facilitating, curating, and styling. Everything I create is an attempt to explore that same thread.

Still choosing it. Still learning from it. Still letting it reveal what comes next.

And maybe that is what purpose actually is. Not arriving at the answer. Continuing to live the questions.

 

But why do I still feel like something is wrong sometimes?

Because there is a part of me that still believes if something is truly aligned, it should be easier.

I’ve asked Chat the same things a million different ways.

Am I missing something? Should I have a better strategy? Should I be marketing harder? Should I stop giving myself so much space? If this is really my thing, shouldn’t it be more obvious by now? How do I turn what I love into something that can actually sustain me?

What is my thing anyways?

If I’m being honest, I really want purpose to guarantee financial abundance, attract love, bring in opportunities left and right, one right after another. I want it to make life feel lighter, slower, calmer.

But that’s not what has happened.

Purpose hasn’t removed uncertainty. It hasn’t eliminated loneliness. It hasn’t always been that clear. It hasn’t made every launch successful or every relationship work out. It hasn’t erased self-doubt. (Hell, I really might be doing this all wrong… ).

If anything, purpose has kept asking more and more of me—and in the process, it has made me a more compassionate and wiser human. Someone with a lived perspective to share.

It continues to ask me to keep showing up without guarantees. To create before I know if anyone will care. To keep asking better questions instead of demanding immediate answers. To keep trusting what feels most alive, even when it’s not how everyone else is doing it. And to build structures that can hold me as I do.

 

So many of us are already living our purpose, but we overlook it when we’re too busy asking whether it’s big enough, popular enough, clear enough, or whether it will lead us somewhere important. We forget to notice what’s been here all along.

The conversations you can’t stop having. The ideas you keep returning to. The problems you can’t help but care about. The questions that refuse to leave you alone. The things you keep exploring, even when nobody is applauding yet. The things you create because you can’t not create them. The thread that has been quietly weaving through your entire life.

Purpose hasn’t removed uncertainty, but it has made it worth living through.

Maybe that’s the real love story.

You are okay if the things you pour your heart into don’t work. You are okay if you’re still waiting for love. You are okay if you need to take a break. You are okay if money takes longer than you hoped.

No matter what, you are safe to keep building.