Let’s talk about that specific, gut-twisting flavor of disappointment.

You know the one. It’s when you pour your heart, your time, and your own hard-earned money into a professional partnership you believe in, only to realize the foundation you’re building on is actually quicksand. It’s the sickening lurch when you discover that the trust you extended in good faith has been… misplaced.

I’ve been so excited to tell you all about my upcoming book signing here in my own backyard. I’ve spent the last month marketing it like crazy, just like I was asked to. I’ve invested over 40 hours of my professional time in outreach and hundreds of dollars in materials because I was genuinely thrilled to create something special with a local business and, most importantly, for all of you.

And now, I have to tell you that the event we’ve been planning is not going to happen. At least, not in the way we thought.

Let me be clear: this isn’t a post to air dirty laundry. This is a post about what happens when a Wounded Healer gets wounded in the professional world, and what it means to practice radical resilience when the stakes feel intensely personal.    

My entire brand, my entire life’s work, is built on the messy, magnificent, and often brutal journey of being authentic in a world that begs you to be anything but.  I write about it. I teach it. And this week, I had to fucking live it in a way that tested every principle I claim to stand for.   

Sometimes, a professional partnership reveals a fundamental misalignment of values. It’s a slow-dawning, painful realization that the respect, transparency, and integrity you require to do your best work simply aren’t present. It’s when the energy you should be putting into creating a beautiful experience for your community is instead being siphoned off by confusion, broken promises, and a pattern of behavior that makes you feel unsafe.

And that, honey, is when you have to make a choice.

Do you wear the mask, smile through the bullshit, and perform for the sake of avoiding a difficult conversation? Or do you honor your own damn soul? Do you set a boundary, even if it’s heartbreaking? Even if it means letting people down?

I chose to honor my soul. For my own safety and professional integrity, I have made the difficult decision to withdraw from the previously announced venue.

This isn’t a defeat. It’s an act of radical self-respect. It’s me, looking at my own scars and refusing to allow a new one to be carved out of a lack of boundaries.  It’s me, taking the advice I scream from the rooftops in my books and my blogs and actually applying it when it’s hard and messy and comes with consequences.    

Because here’s the truth: my commitment has always been to YOU. My readers. My found family. My fellow survivors and badasses in Clark County and beyond. My promise is to connect with you, to share these stories with you, and to celebrate our shared resilience.

That promise has not changed. It has only gotten stronger.

So, while the original plan has gone up in flames, I’m already grabbing a goddamn fire extinguisher and building something new and better from the ashes. I am already in talks with another incredible local bookstore that shares my values, and we’re working on a new plan. And if that doesn’t work out, I will, as I’ve said to my friends, host this event in a freakin’ park if I have to.

Because the event was never about a specific place. It was about a specific feeling: connection. It was about celebrating our stories, our community, and our collective strength.

That is still happening.

So please, stay tuned. The party is still on. It’s just moving to a better, safer, and more authentic location. Thank you for your patience and your incredible support. It means more than you will ever know.

We’re not just surviving this. We’re thriving.

Onward.