Hey friend,

A couple days ago, I had a right night. The 2am doubt showed up loud — who do you think you are, building this, putting yourself out there — and I lay there a long time, very much living in the fear.

As a coach, I’d love to tell you I’ve arrived at some serene, unshakable place where doubt doesn’t come knocking anymore. I’d be lying. I’m still a work-in-progress — and I think I always will be. That’s literally why I call it practice, not work.

The morning after my fear-soaked restlessness, my husband held me, listened, and then said: “Go for a walk.”

A walk.

In Arizona.

In June.

(Our sun can be considered a personal attack, friends).

I also had a coaching call at 8:30, a list a mile long, and every reason to stay inside and earn my way back to okay.

I went anyway.

Twenty minutes. One un-fancy prayer: I’m here. I’m raw. I feel a bit lost. Are You here?

And He answered in wings.

A hummingbird — our homeschool mascot, and I’ve seen exactly one in the wild in my whole life. That morning I saw two. The second one hovered right next to me and just...stayed. Like it was waiting for me snap out of it and grab my phone for a photo.

Then a bunny flashed its little cottontail — and Peter Rabbit is my favorite story of all time.

I stood on that hot sidewalk and just knew: God made this treasure hunt. For me. That morning, of all mornings.

And here’s the part that still gets me:

I almost missed it.

I almost traded a glittering-fingerprint morning for one more hour of white-knuckling my own worth.

That’s the quiet tragedy of Good Girl Ghosting. It’s not dramatic disappearing. It's skipping the walk. Breezing past the wonder. Trying to earn a feeling you’ve already been handed — by grace, as a gift.

When the doubt is loud, you don’t out-think it.

You do the small, true thing.

You look for the fingerprints.

You remember your job is to bring your best — your five and two, your loaves and fishes — and the feeding of the five thousand is His.

You can put the stress about the results down now.

Your JOY NUGGET for you this Friday, friends:

Go find your glittering fingerprints.

They're out there. Waiting for you to look

Your PINKIE-TOE STEP (the tiny, brave one):

This weekend, catch the moment you're about to skip something that would actually feed you — the walk, the five quiet minutes, the small yes to yourself.

Don't argue with it. Just take the tiniest version. Two minutes counts. Stepping out the door counts. That's the whole step.

Self-respect doesn't need a grand gesture — it just needs you to not abandon yourself this one time.

Your PLAY PROMPT — because it's Friday and this one's for the weekend:

Be a Joy Detective.

Your only assignment: collect three glittering fingerprints.

Three little moments where something shimmers — a color, a creature, a song on the radio, a memory that floats up out of nowhere.

Don't decode them. Don't make them mean anything yet.

Just catch them.

Snap the photo. Jot the note. Text one to a friend.

You're drawing the first corner of your own treasure map — the one that leads back to her.

The woman underneath all the handling and the holding-it-together.

The one with her own light, her own delights, her own glittering, only-her fingerprints. (This is the exact practice we go treasure-hunting with inside the Reset.)

And if you’re tired of white-knuckling your worth alone — if you want to practice this with people — that's what I'm building inside the Good Girl Ghosting Reset. For a limited time, I'm opening it to a small founding circle: my Founding Sisters.

Reply to this email with RESET and I’ll send you everything.

Go outside and play, friend. I’ll meet you back here.

— Rachel