A few weeks ago, I was alone cleaning out one of my old warehouse spaces.
I was opening dusty boxes, finding old product labels, display pieces, notebooks filled with ideas I once felt so excited about. There were moments I laughed remembering things we had built there. And moments where I had to stop because I realized I was still more hurt than I thought I was.
What's strange is that if you had looked at my life from the outside during those years, you probably would have thought everything looked pretty successful.
And in many ways, it was.
When Success Stopped Feeling Like Myself
I had built businesses from nothing. I had traveled because of them. I had opportunities I never imagined a girl from a small town would have. I was speaking on stages, creating products people loved, opening stores, growing teams.
But somewhere along the way, I slowly stopped feeling like myself.
Not dramatically. Not in some movie-scene kind of way.
Just quietly.
I became the person everyone relied on. The problem solver. The motivator. The one holding everything together.
And honestly, I got really good at it.
Too good at it.
I think a lot of women do this. Especially entrepreneurs. Especially caretakers. Especially people who are ambitious and hopeful and want to create beautiful things in the world.
You get so busy managing life that you stop noticing how disconnected you've become from yourself.
At first, I thought I was just stressed.
Then I thought I was burned out.
But looking back now, I think it was deeper than that.
| "I think I had built parts of my life around proving myself instead of fully being myself." |
And eventually life has a way of forcing you to look at that.
When Everything Fell Apart at Once
For me, it happened through a series of really painful experiences that all seemed to hit at once.
A business partnership unraveled in ways I never expected. People I deeply trusted hurt me. Longtime employees I loved and believed in betrayed me. At one point, while I was already emotionally exhausted, I was also dealing with identity theft and fraudulent loans in my name.
I remember sitting in my car after certain meetings just staring straight ahead trying to pull myself together before walking into the next thing.
And the weird part is… most people around me probably had no idea how hard that season really was.
Because I was still functioning. Still showing up. Still smiling. Still solving problems.
I think that's why high-functioning people can struggle quietly for such a long time. Everyone assumes you're okay because you're still performing.
But underneath all of it, I was exhausted in a way that sleep wasn't fixing.
What I Found in the Quiet
And then something unexpected happened.
As things fell apart, there was also this strange sense of relief underneath the grief.
Because the noise finally stopped.
I stopped chasing expansion for a minute. Stopped trying to hold together things that no longer felt aligned. Stopped forcing.
And in that quiet, I started hearing myself again.
I went back to pouring candles. Packing boxes. Working with my hands. Walking in the woods more. Spending time alone without constantly filling every second with work.
I started noticing little things.
The days I taught a candle class and left energized instead of drained. The conversations where someone would tell me a scent made them feel calm for the first time in weeks. The moments where I talked about the nervous system, stress, scent, purpose, joy, and emotional well-being and felt completely lit up inside.
Then I gave a keynote that changed something for me.
I still remember walking off stage afterward thinking —
| "Oh… there I am." |
Not the stressed version of me. Not the overwhelmed version. Not the version trying to prove she could handle everything.
Just me. Fully myself.
I can't even fully explain how emotional that realization was. It felt like reconnecting with someone I hadn't seen in years.
How Ikigai Changed My Questions
Around that same time, I was traveling for consulting work in Singapore and someone introduced me to the Japanese concept of ikigai — the idea of finding the intersection between what you love, what you're naturally good at, what the world needs, and what you can be paid for.
And I became obsessed with the idea.
Not in a hustle culture way. In a human way.
I started asking myself different questions.
What actually gives me energy? What makes me lose track of time? When do I feel most like myself? What parts of my life feel heavy? What parts feel expansive?
And slowly, my life started changing.
Not because I suddenly had everything figured out. But because I finally started paying attention to myself again.
Where The WhyWay Really Came From
That's really where The WhyWay came from.
Not from me deciding to "launch a course."
Honestly, I resisted that idea for a long time because there are already so many people online pretending to have all the answers.
This came from years of rebuilding. Years of journaling. Teaching. Researching. Speaking. Learning things the hard way. Trying to understand what actually helps people reconnect with themselves again.
Because I don't think most people are broken.
| "I think most people are just disconnected from themselves. Disconnected from joy. From purpose. From calm. From the things that make them feel alive." |
The WhyWay is my attempt to help people come back to themselves a little sooner than I did.
Not through perfection. Not through pretending life is always positive. Not through becoming a completely different person.
But through awareness. Honesty. Reflection. Small shifts. Purpose. And learning how to pay attention to the clues your life has probably been giving you all along.
It's funny because now, looking back, I can see that everything I've built has been connected to this in some way.
Pure Placid was never really just about candles. The talks were never really just about scent. The rituals were never really just routines.
It was always about helping people feel better. More grounded. More connected to themselves. More alive inside their own lives.
And after years of this living in notebooks, voice memos, conversations, workshops, and pieces of my own rebuilding journey…
It finally feels ready to share.
Which honestly feels exciting and terrifying at the same time.
But I think the things worth sharing usually do.
|
Ready to come back to yourself? Founding Cohort starts July 1 · Circle enrollment is open now Explore The WhyWay → |
Warmly,
Marcy
Leave a comment