Hi Reader,
We’re moving interstate.
From the suburbs to the sea.
From the life that finally felt like it fit into the total unknown.
This isn’t a story of “we had to.”
It’s a story of we chose to.
Which almost makes it harder, because what do you do when the life you love still asks you to leave it?
This house holds so much.
My kids grew up here.
My business was built here.
We finally had rhythms that worked, especially for my son, who’s autistic and thrives on predictability.
Leaving it behind feels like ripping out the last few chapters of a really good book before you’ve finished reading it.
So why go?
Because sometimes your soul whispers it’s time before your brain catches up.
Because comfort and alignment aren’t always the same thing.
Because growth rarely shows up looking like a Pinterest quote.
This move is messy. Emotional. Equal parts grief and hope.
There’s the physical shift - new place, new routines, new neighbourhood weirdos (which, let’s be real, might just be us).
But underneath that? There’s a deeper shift. One that feels like finally choosing peace over pressure. Spaciousness over shoulds. Clarity over chaos.
I’ve felt it building for a while, the urge to clear out, to let go, to stop dragging old versions of myself into new seasons.
This move is the external reflection of a bigger internal NOPE.
No more tolerating what doesn’t fit.
No more holding on “just in case.”
No more staying put because it’s familiar.
As I pack up this chapter, I’m noticing what I don’t want to carry with me:
The guilt.
The people-pleasing.
The dusty old narratives that tell me I owe everyone everything.
Spoiler: I don’t, and neither do you.
So while I’m knee-deep in cardboard and chaos, I’m also choosing something quieter. Something truer. Something that feels like mine.
I’m sharing all of it - the good, the bad, and the bubble wrap - over on Patreon, where I don’t have to censor the tears or wrap it in a bow.
If you want the raw updates, the voice notes between breakdowns, the “this was a terrible idea but also maybe brilliant?” spiral, come hang out there.
Because I’m not just moving house. I’m letting go of a version of me that can’t come with.
If you’ve been holding your breath through your own season of change, come exhale with me.
My messy middle might be the sign you’re not alone in yours.
Much love,
Suzanne
PS: Think of Patreon as the group chat where I unpack the real story (and probably lose my sanity along with a few boxes). Join here.
