So… can we have a do-over?​
​

I wish I could say that I disappeared from your inbox these last few months because I was off having some Eat, Pray, Love revelation in Mexico.

But the truth?

I thought moving here would magically fix everything.

Oh, sweet, naive Jenn...

Turns out, the problems and the bad habits packed themselves right into my suitcase.

Everything feels the same... just with more sunshine, salt water, and tacos. (Honestly, the tacos are doing the heavy lifting.)

And then life got… loud.

Christmas is my absolute favourite season, and being away from family hits differently this year.
My father-in-law is in palliative care.
It’s complicated and layered and not a made-for-TV moment.
He and I weren’t close, but I love my husband.
I love my son.
And this is the first time my kid is watching someone he knows decline.
It’s a lot.

There’s a guilt that comes with enjoying our life here, the beach, the warmth, the tiny moments of peace, while people we love are hurting.

Joy and grief have been sitting beside each other at my kitchen island like two coworkers who hate each other who didn’t know they’d both been invited.

But here’s the part that keeps me grounded:

My kid is such a beautiful human.
My husband loves me unconditionally.
Whenever I feel myself spinning, I can walk ten minutes to the ocean and breathe again.
Everything I need is still right in front of me.

And somewhere inside all that messiness, something clicked:

You can change your location, but not yourself. Not without doing the work.

On the business side of things, I’ve been burnt out.
Stressed.
Worried.
Stuck in an identity that didn’t fit anymore.

I niched down so hard that I accidentally boxed myself in.
“Email marketing strategist” became this tiny room I outgrew fast.
"Funel strategist" felt freeing.
Because the truth is…
I was already doing funnel strategy.
I was helping clients expand and optimize and build revenue engines.
Email was just one of the tools, not the whole toolbox.

Funnels feel expansive.
Emails felt restrictive.
And I’m finally ready to stop pretending otherwise.

The other big, slightly scary shift?

I am so tired of listening to everyone else.
The coaches, the courses, the masterminds, the “shoulds,” the “you need to niche more,” the “this is the only way to grow.”

2026 is the year of listening to my own damn voice.

Of trusting that I know what I’m talking about.
Of talking to you, the person who’s actually here, instead of performing for the online-business peanut gallery.

And I’ve missed this.
I’ve missed writing to you.
Not as a “value machine” or a “thought leader,” but as a human.
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A woman in her 40s trying to build something meaningful while supporting family, riding the waves of pre-teen mood swings (boy moms, WHY did no one warn me?!), and trying to stay upright in a world that keeps asking for more.

So here’s what you can expect from me now:

More stories.
More honesty.
More conversations that feel like we’re curled up on the couch with tea, chatting like actual friends. Not like I’m trying to extract a “takeaway” from every moment for your “growth.”
More funnel strategy, but the real kind. The “here’s how to make your business feel lighter, not louder” kind.
And more consistency.
Because I want to be here.
With you.
For real.

If anything in this email resonated, if you’ve had your own “life is a lot right now” moment, I’d genuinely love to hear it.
My inbox is wide open, and I miss the dialogue.

Thanks for letting me try this again.
More soon.
And this time, I mean it.