For as long as I can remember, I’ve been moving fast. Chasing dreams, ticking boxes, proving I could. Always reaching for the next milestone, the next big thing. Always in motion, but never quite arriving.

At some point, I realised I didn’t want to live life as a race track, looping round the same bend, hoping the next lap would feel different. I didn’t want to build a business that pulled me away from the very life I was trying to cherish.

But slowing down didn’t happen all at once. It took minutes, hours, months… years.
Of gently choosing stillness over speed.
Of quiet conversations with myself.
Of unlearning what I thought success was supposed to look like.

And now, at last, I feel my feet planted firmly on the ground again.
I can hear my thoughts.
I can breathe.
I can create with softness, and shape this business to cradle, not crush, the life I’m building.
A life that’s slower. More spacious. More mine.

I’d love to start sharing more of this slower journey with you. The quiet shifts, the honest moments, the way it’s all unfolding into days that feel joyful. Not days that count down to the next big thing, but days that simply are the thing.

To begin, I wanted to share a piece I’ve written about the myth of balance in motherhood. Because for me, that was the first thread I had to gently unravel. So here goes…

We’re told to chase balance. As if life is a set of scales, waiting for us to finally get the weight of motherhood and business perfectly even.

But here’s what I believe:
Balance, as it’s sold to us, is a recipe for burnout. For guilt. For never feeling like enough.
Because balance isn’t stillness. It’s tension.
Like standing on a tightrope—every muscle clenched, every thought trying to hold the wobble.
It’s not sustainable. And it’s not where life feels good.

Instead, I choose flow.
Not every day is equal.
Not every season is even.
But there’s a harmonic rhythm.

There are seasons when work feels electric and inspiring, and the kids eat more toast dinners than we’d like. There are seasons when the home is slow, the work is quiet, and the most productive thing we do is sit in the sunshine together.

Flow isn’t about controlling the tides.
It’s about learning to move with them.
To be where you are fully.
To trust that time will open up when it’s needed.
To stop pushing.
And start relishing in the doing.

Because when we stop fighting for balance…
We find something softer.
Something more true.
We find peace.
We find presence.
We find ourselves.

I’ll be back with more, when the next piece finds me.

Big hugs,
Jayde