Why I’m Done Playing Small: My Loud, Messy, Real, and Beautiful Life

Life was "perfect," except I was losing my mind.

Up until the age of 30, I was living a perfect life — by all appearances.

I’d followed the rules, contorted myself into what was expected, bit my tongue, and swallowed my truth. I shrunk myself to a size 2 and played the roles I was told to play.

I was married to the tall, dark, handsome, and dependable man I’d met at my first fraternity party at San Diego State University. I had two beautiful daughters, ages 2 and 5. We had: 

• A house
• Two dependable cars
• Two careers (one that required a lot of travel (his) and one with flexibility (min
• Savings, retirement accounts, and a savings account for college for our girls
• Money for dance lessons, gymnastics, and vacations.

Life was “perfect,” from the outside, it looked like I had it all.

“But inside? I was spiraling”

Two weeks before a major work trip, I started unraveling.

As the assistant director of a large, multi-site school-based research project at UC San Diego, I was preparing to fly to New Orleans to meet with stakeholders. This was the first project of its kind funded by the U.S. National Institutes of Health.

And I was terrified.

In my mind, the plane burst into flames. No survivors.

I played that reel until it became real.

I couldn’t leave my girls motherless. Who would take care of them?

I stopped eating. I stopped sleeping. I wore the mommy mask and the employee costume. 

I even prayed for a broken arm or a sick daughter–anything to keep from boarding that plane

I got on the plane.

And I cried in the back of the meeting room for four days, convinced I’d die on the flight home.

“You Have PTSD,” the Therapist Said

I made an appointment as soon as I got back to San Diego. I needed to be fixed.

“What? I’m not a soldier. I didn’t come from a war-torn country…”

Marlene held up her hand.

“Listen, Michelle, Molly is about to go off to kindergarten. You feel like you can’t protect her once she’s out in the world — just like you couldn’t protect your sister… and no one protected you.”

Tears filled my eyes.

For the first time, someone saw me — all of me — and didn’t look away.
She didn’t flinch at my mess. She didn’t deny my truth.
She gifted me the wisdom that I could be messy and still be worthy.
That I could live louder and bolder.

That moment — at 30 years old — was the beginning of my messy, authentic, and beautiful journey to being a LOUDER GIRL.

Start Living Your LOUDER GIRL Life

Three decades later, I’m still on the journey.
LOUDER GIRL isn’t a destination. It’s a way of living.
Some days, I’m bold and alive.
Some days, I stay in bed and watch “reality” TV.
And both are okay.

How are you going to start living your LOUDER GIRL life today?

Try one of these:

• Say “no” to the meeting, favor, or request.
• Take up space. Walk into the room like you belong there — because you do.
• Rest without guilt. Read the rom-com. Nap. Put up a “Do Not Disturb” sign.
• Just. Breathe.

Tell me — what did you do today to start your LOUDER GIRL journey?
Leave a comment. Someone else may need to see your step to take their own.

Ready to Unleash Your Story?

If you're ready to unleash your happiness through storytelling,
join me at the next FREE immersive LOUDER GIRL Webinar:

Date: August 18, 2025
Time: 4 PM to 5 PM Pacific
RSVP Here: https://www.loudergirl.com/webinar

You’ll walk away with new clarity, renewed confidence, and maybe even the first chapter of your transformation.