Achievement Lately: When Netflix Inspires You to Get Off the Couch

I’ve been thinking a lot about achievement lately.

So there I was, deep into a House of Cards binge—watching fictional politicians claw their way to the top of the power ladder—while I sat comfortably on the couch doing the exact opposite. The irony, right? But in my defense, I was multitasking. Kind of.

Somewhere between episode five and a second bowl of popcorn, this familiar pounding started in my chest. Not anxiety. Not caffeine. But that persistent feeling that I need to write this book.

I’ve been dodging this story for a while because, honestly, it’s a heavy one. It’s complicated. It's traumatic. It’s the kind of story that makes your hands tremble before they hit the keyboard. But it’s also the story that could save someone else from making the same mistake.

And maybe that’s the reason it keeps tugging at me.

It was the most traumatic experience of my life. It opened my eyes to the dark corners of the world—and the kinds of people who prey on the naive, the hopeful, the trusting. People say I’m strong, and I appreciate that, but strength isn’t something you wake up with. It’s forged. And this experience… forged me.

The good news? Last night, I wrote.

And when I wrote, I felt okay. Actually okay. I expected to feel panic, or to break down, or to stop halfway through. But I didn’t. It was like something had shifted. Maybe years of therapy and prayer actually worked. Maybe I’m finally on the other side of it.

So why write it now?

Because the story matters. Because I’m not the only one it’s happened to—and I won’t be the last if no one speaks up. Because a man who once lured me with a dream was later arrested for grand larceny. Because closure isn’t always silent; sometimes it’s written.

I’ve drafted versions of this book for years. None of them stuck. But this time feels different. It feels right. And if God keeps nudging me toward it, then maybe it’s finally time to listen. Every time I ignore it, the guilt grows louder. And honestly? I’m tired of carrying it.

So yes, I’ll write the book.

But also, yes—I will finish House of Cards.

Balance, people.

You're Going to Rue the Day… You Started My Dream

I’ll be completely transparent: I was let go from my 9–5 job on Monday. Most people would expect me to spiral—cue the dramatic thoughts: “Oh no! What am I going to do?” or “I can’t believe that horrible b**ch let me go. She’s going to rue the day she made that decision!”

But truthfully? I don’t feel that way at all.

Instead, I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Prayer is a powerful thing—believe that however you will. I hadn’t prayed in a while, but Monday morning I broke the silence. I simply asked, “God, show me where my path to living a dream will take me.”
By that afternoon? Boom. I was let go.

Was it abrupt? Yes. Was the relationship working? Not really. But deep down, I knew I had been using that job as a crutch—an excuse not to pursue what truly sets my soul on fire: writing.

Since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of being a writer. For a long time, I thought that meant becoming a journalist. But once I realized that would involve telling other people’s stories in a rigid format, I lost interest. I wanted to write my stories. Raw, vulnerable, unfiltered. I wanted to speak truth—not conform.

But instead of chasing that dream, I did what so many of us do: I got a “real” job. I traded my calling for a paycheck. For years.

It wasn’t until 2011—post-heartbreak, searching for purpose—that I picked up the pen again. Someone told me I had talent. And in that moment, I remembered who I was. I remembered the little girl who felt most alive when she was writing.

The rest unfolded from there.

I dipped my toes into freelance work. I told pieces of my story. And now here I am: jobless, terrified, but finally pursuing my passion full-time.

This leap would not be possible without the unwavering support of the Comedian—my partner in creativity, in dreaming, in believing that we were meant to make things. He reminds me often that we weren’t put on this earth to just exist—we were made to create.

Am I still scared? Absolutely. The fear of the unknown is real. But so is my faith.

Today I read a piece on Addicted2Success.com about stepping through fear—and it hit me hard. I’ve been avoiding the very thing I now feel called to: uncertainty. But the truth is, I wasn’t made for the clock-in, clock-out life. I wasn’t built to spend 40 hours a week chasing someone else’s dream. I was made for this.

And even though I don’t know exactly what “this” looks like yet, I know it’s mine.

So no, I’m not bitter. I’m not resentful. If anything, I’m grateful—because that woman didn’t just let me go. She set me free.

The Freelance Struggle

by Sean MacEntee

Recently, I took the leap into the world of freelancing. After listening to countless podcasts and reading article after article, I decided to go against the grain and try one of those popular freelancing platforms. Let me just say—if you’re looking to get paid what you’re worth for your creativity and talent, this is not the path.

Within a week or two on the site, I quickly learned what so many others had warned about: most gigs pay pennies. Quite literally. Still, I was excited to land my first official assignment—writing 30 articles on dating advice. Right up my alley, right?

Then I did the math.

I was getting paid $1.00 per article.
One dollar.

Let that sink in.

Sure, it was my first job on the platform and I genuinely wanted to make a great impression. And to their credit, the client said my content was “amazing.” But even hearing that didn’t make it feel worth it. I knew my writing—especially on something I know so well—deserved far more value.

That’s when it hit me: I was pouring energy and talent into something that didn’t respect the craft.
And I could do so much more on my own.

So, I pivoted. I started my own website to offer real freelance writing services. A space where I could set my own rates, showcase my best work, and attract clients who actually valued what I bring to the table. If you’d like to see some of my writing or work together, you can visit me at Valerie Writes.

This isn’t just about money—it’s about freedom. I want to design a life where I can travel, create, and thrive without asking for permission to use 10 days of vacation or being told what I’m “worth” based on a corporate pay band.

Maybe I sound like a textbook Millennial—but honestly?
That’s exactly how I feel.

The Road to Self-Discovery

I finally did it. I figured out what I want to be when I grow up.

It’s taken time—and more than a few detours—but I’ve landed on something that feels right. The beginning of this year came with its fair share of struggles, but somewhere along the way, I stepped onto this road of clarity and self-expression. And let me tell you, it’s been enlightening.

If you know me, you know I don’t always express myself best out loud. But give me a pen and paper, and suddenly, I’m fluent in emotion. Writing has always been my safe space, my outlet, my translator. And lately, I've been learning so much about myself—especially in relationships. This current one? It's been a mirror. It's shown me who I really am when I care deeply about someone.

I’m stubborn. I don’t always know how I feel until twenty minutes later. And when I’m angry, I stutter. (Yes, really.) Looking back, some of my past relationships were filled with arguments, which now feels so foreign to me. I’m not naturally aggressive. But some people... they just know how to push your buttons. Still, I’ve always been patient. I try not to let things get to me—but what does get to me is inconsideration. Or people who are always looking for the easy way out.

Maybe I come off a little intense sometimes. My business upbringing wasn’t exactly all hugs and rainbows. There’s a little birdie in my head constantly chirping, “Don’t do anything half-assed.” And because of that, I hold others to the same standard. But I’ve been working on softening that edge—reminding myself: They are not me. Relax.

Anyway, I know what you’re wondering: Okay, but what do you want to be when you grow up?

Fine. I’ll tell you.

I want to be a Corporate Trainer. I want to create and lead training and development. I want to teach, guide, and empower adults—and yes, I get to write in the process. Boom.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Why not just be a teacher? Here's the thing—I'm not a kids person. I love the ones in my life, truly. But dealing with other people’s kids (and their possibly questionable home training)? Not my lane. And that’s okay. I have so much respect for the teachers who do that work and do it well. Thank you for showing up, for shaping the future.

As for me? I’m stepping confidently into this new direction. I’m excited to grow, to lead, and to finally merge my passions in a meaningful way.

See you at the finish line. 🚀

The Urge to Write

overcome-writers-block

It’s been a couple of weeks since I last wrote in my infamous blog. Writer’s block? Maybe. Or maybe life has just been… a lot lately.

Since moving in with the Comedian, things have been nonstop. Work got wild, social plans multiplied, and suddenly our weekends aren’t so much ours as they are another square on the calendar. I long for the lazy mornings where I could look at him and ask, “So what do you want to do today?” These days, it’s more like, “Babe, what do we have scheduled this weekend?”

Don’t get me wrong—this isn’t a complaint. I’ve calmed down quite a bit since my wild college years (and let’s be real, finding my party-loving Orlando crew didn’t help back then either). But now? Babies and pregnancies are popping up in my friend group like whack-a-moles at a carnival. My coworkers love to joke that I’m next. I just smile and say, “Not yet—I haven’t been drinking the water.”

Recently though, I’ve been filling my quiet moments with podcasts—and honestly, I have the Comedian to thank for that. It started with his favorite, Bill Burr, and spiraled into binge-listening to creators like Pat Flynn and my latest obsession, Entrepreneurs on Fire. My mind’s been racing ever since. So many ideas. So many dreams. And right in the middle of it all is this urge—this calling—to write.

I know this blog is only the beginning. I know it’s going to evolve, just like I have. And maybe one day, I’ll look back on these entries as the seeds of something much bigger. Something I was destined to do.

Thank you, truly, for reading. Here’s to finding time, even when it feels like there’s none. ✨