If you know about my life as a traveling pet sitter, saw my Fox 13 Seattle interview, or have ever heard me baby-talking Levi — my daughter’s sweet little bichpoo — you might be surprised to learn that I haven’t always thought of myself as a dog person.

For decades, it was a story I told myself. A story born of fear that eventually morphed into disdain and rejection.

It all came rushing back the day my kids were chased by a stranger’s dog at the park. Suddenly I remembered my own scary childhood encounter with an unfamiliar pup.

But instead of showing empathy, my dad dismissed it as a non-event. "I could give you something to cry about," he warned.

So I learned what a lot of us learn early in childhood:

Don’t feel it. Don’t process it. Just move on.

And when feelings don’t get processed, they get repackaged.

Mine turned into cover stories like, "I'm just a cat person" or "too bad I'm allergic to dogs."They sounded harmless, even factual, but they weren’t truth, they were protection.

How identity gets formed

It wasn’t about dogs.

It was about feeling unsafe with my fear, and the story I created to survive.

Because for most of us, that’s how identity works — an adaption rather than a conscious choice. We take a moment, often in childhood, and we build a story around it. One we carry for decades, while mistaking it for who we are.

What changed

Years later, I went back and let myself feel the scary emotions I wasn't allowed to feel as a kid. I questioned the old story I'd been carrying, and decided to let it go. In doing so, I gave myself a new experience, and the truth was... I love dogs.Now I spend my time traveling up and down the West Coast, caring for dozens of incredible animals. A two-and-a-half year adventure that never would have happened if I hadn’t gone back and rewritten that story.

Why it matters

Most women I talk to aren’t stuck because they lack clarity.They’re stuck because they’re living inside a story that was never fully examined.“I’m too much.”“I’m not creative.”“I’m not the kind of person who…”These are inherited narratives, not fixed traits, and they quietly shape your choices, your relationships, and what you believe is available to you.

A different possibility

You’re not alone in this, and more importantly, you’re not stuck with it.

If this is starting to remind you of one of your own “cover stories,” that’s your doorway.

And this is exactly the work I do as a coach.

If you're ready to identify a story that might be holding you back, and start rewriting it in a way that fits who you are now, let's talk.

We’ll pinpoint one narrative that’s shaping your life and map a clear, grounded way to shift it.

Books Are My Love Language 📚

This week I’m thoroughly enjoying Matrix by Lauren Groff — a beautiful story about a discarded and underestimated woman who overcomes impossible odds to create a life she loves.

Set in 12th-century England, the story follows Marie de France’s evolution from awkward outcast to shrewd leader. Initially resentful and insecure, Marie gradually grows into her role, and transforms a struggling, impoverished abbey into a flourishing, self-sufficient community of powerful women.

I love how this book explores themes of faith, love, power, community, and belonging. This passage really spoke to me:

Have you read it? Hit reply and let me know. I have it in my Bookshop if you want it.

Weekly Journal Prompt ✍️

What old narratives no longer serve you? Can you reframe or release them? Identify the first few steps towards one or the other.

Write bravely, my friend. See you next week.

-Amber 🥰

PS. Do you know someone facing midlife transitions and looking to build community? Forward this so they can sign up below.

Thanks so much for reading and sharing! 🙏