Girl, You've Done Harder Things Than This.
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After arriving in Baja Sur to unexpectedly high temperatures in the upper 90s, I was excited to venture out for my first bike ride to the famous and much loved Malecón de La Paz, a seaside promenade filled with sandy beaches, public art, and open-air restaurants. I was also filled with anxiety. Prior to my arrival, I hadn’t practiced my Spanish as much as I’d planned, was still processing all sorts of details about Mexican culture, the home I’m staying in, the cats I’m caring for, and I hadn’t ridden a bike in years. My brain was spinning before I even made it out of the gated community. As the gates closed behind me, I just kept telling myself, “Girl, you've done harder things than ride a bike along a beautiful waterfront. You can do this!” And of course, I did. As I turned off Calle Nueva Reforma, onto the wide, protected bike lane leading towards the city's original floating marina at the southern edge of the Malecón, I was in awe of the vibrant bougainvillea, the colorful murals depicting the people’s relationship with the sea, and the intensity of the sun at 10:30 am. My gauzy clothing and 50 spf sunscreen — bought specifically in preparation for this trip — were no match for the blinding Mexican sun. As I sweated through my clothes and felt my face, neck, and arms absorbing way too many UV rays, I was forced to turn back much earlier than I’d planned. Still, I had to laugh, especially since the theme of our next Unmuted: Women’s Journaling Hour is, are you ready for this? Midsummer clarity — maximum light, fully exposed with nowhere left to hide from ourselves. And that’s never easy. Maximum light exposes everything, and that can be rough. Sometimes we have to abort plans before we're ready. Not because we’ve failed, but because we’re willing to respect our own limitations. And when we’re ready, we head back out and try again. Just like I’ve done with my bike rides here in La Paz. I’ve started out much earlier, and exchanged my gauzy linens for long pants and tightly woven cotton shirts. When I returned, I practically bathed in fresh aloe vera gel. That's what June 6 is all about — one hour in the light, together, reminding ourselves exactly who we are. Because sometimes, rather than show us something new, the sun's rays reveal what’s been there all along — the woman who knows her edge, who’s done much harder things, who comes home, and lets herself be healed. Join us. June 6. One hour in maximum light. See what's there. Name it. Choose what to do with it. I can’t promise what you’ll find, but I can promise you a supportive community of women holding space and doing it together.
Books Are My Love Language 📚I love audiobooks, and I especially love audiobooks narrated by Rebecca Lowman. There’s just something about her voice… Anyway, I’m currently gobbling up anything she reads, which is what led me to Ruth Run by Elizabeth Kaufman. This is a fun story about a brilliant, ambitious 26-year-old thief who makes her money the old-fashioned way — robbing banks — but with a modern twist. Ruth excels at microchip design and uses her knowledge to steal $250 million using a hacked firewall chip that only she knows how to access. When she's discovered, she goes on the run, kicking off a cross-country chase by government agents who see her as both a national security threat and a potential intelligence asset. They intend to catch her dead or alive. There's something irresistible about a woman who knows exactly what she's capable of and acts accordingly. Ruth does not shrink. Have you read it? Hit reply and let me know. It’s in my BookShop if you want it.
As Seen In... 📰I followed my boyfriend to Arizona. He left shortly after, but I stuck it out and learned to love my new state. (Business Insider) Weekly Journal Prompt ✍️Where in your life are you currently standing at the gate, telling yourself you can't do something you've actually done before? Write bravely, my friend. See you next week. -Amber 🥰 PS. If you're ready to start now, my journals will meet you right where you are. Explore the full series. |
Have you minimized your own experiences for so long that you no longer recognize their significance?
I’m Amber Campbell — essayist, storyteller, and guide for women transforming raw, messy personal stories into meaningful personal narratives. Through writing, workshops, and community, I explore how storytelling reshapes identity and self-perception — and why the stories we minimize are often the ones that matter most. In my weekly newsletter, I write about story, reinvention, emotional truth, and narrative-driven visibility, for women learning to see their lives more clearly.