Hey Reader,

I rewrote my memoir seven times.

The first few drafts were sharp, clever, and pointed squarely outward. At the ex-husband. At the corporate machine. At the societal script. At everyone who had let me down. I was articulate and witty and completely, utterly dishonest with myself.

It took seven tries to finally turn the lens inward.

And when I did, the writing finally became alive in a way it hadn't been before. Suddenly I wasn't crafting sentences–I was creating energetic truth. And the truth, it turns out, is the only thing that actually lands.

I think about that process a lot when I'm sitting with clients.

Because what I see, so frequently, is the same thing I was doing in those early drafts. Smart, deeply capable people performing a version of themselves that sounds right...polished, professional, safe–while the truest, most magnetic version of who they are stays quietly hidden underneath.

It doesn't happen because they're inauthentic. It happens because somewhere along the way, they stopped trusting that the real version was enough.

Maybe it was years in corporate, learning to speak the language of whoever was in the room. Maybe it was tiptoeing around someone volatile in your life. Perhaps it was watching what performed well online and calibrating toward it. Or it was one too many times sharing something true and feeling exposed rather than received.

However it happened, the result is the same–a slow, subtle drift away from your own voice. And the painful irony is that the more you drift, the harder it becomes to find your way back.

The Messy → Magical Shift

Here's what I learned writing my book–and what I watch happen with every client who finally lets themselves be fully seen in their work:

The truth doesn't need to be crafted. It needs to be uncovered.

When I stopped trying to write the clever version and started writing the honest one, I didn't work harder. I worked differently. I got quieter. I listened more. I stopped asking "what should I say?" and started asking "what's actually true?" and "what resonates as truth in my body when I say it?"

That shift, from performing to expressing, is available to you right now. Not after another rebrand or after you figure out your niche. Right now, in the next piece of content you write, the next conversation you have about your work, the next time someone asks what you do.

✨ 3 Ways to find your way back to your own voice

1. Notice when you're writing for approval vs writing from truth.
   There's a distinct feeling in your body when you're crafting something to be received well versus when you're saying something real. Learn to feel the difference. The crafted version feels tight. The true version feels slightly terrifying–and also like relief.
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2. Ask yourself: whose voice is this? If you read your own website, your bio, your last three posts, or heck your last three messages to friends and fam–do they sound like you? Or do they sound like a polished, palatable version of you? If you can't quite hear yourself in your own words, that's the signal.
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3. Write the version you're afraid to publish. Then publish that one.
   Not recklessly. But intentionally. The thing you almost said. The truth you softened. That's usually where your real voice lives.

A Spark of Inspiration:

Your truest voice isn't lost. It's just been waiting patiently for you to trust it again.

💬 Your Turn Where have you been performing instead of expressing–and what would it feel like to finally say the true thing? Gawd, so much freedom lives right there. Say it, my friend. Or hit reply and tell me if you need to give the truth a spin. I read every single one. 🖤

To more truth and less performance, one messy word at a time.

Grateful for you. Thank you for being here! I want you to know I'm proud of you for continuing to learn, and I believe you have what it takes to make your entrepreneurial dreams a reality.

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Need some 1:1 coaching in creating your dream business? Learn more here. ❤️

📘 It's Gonna Get Messy is my unfiltered true story of heartbreak, healing, and reinvention you can snag a copy here.

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Rebecca Eve Studios 3300 NW 185th Ave Suite 1014, Portland, Oregon, 97229
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