Let’s be honest — before 2020, my life was one big blur of alarms, coffee cups, and carpool lines. I was a mom, a wife, and a career-driven woman with a to-do list that rivaled a CVS receipt. I thought I was living — working 60+ hours a week, chasing goals, paying bills, and trying to climb a ladder I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be on.
And then… COVID hit.
For the first time in my adult life, the world stopped — and so did I. No alarm clock, no rushing to get kids out the door, no packed calendar. Just silence, pajamas, and a very confused sense of identity. I’d spent so many years doing, I had no idea how to simply be.
At first, it felt like a breakdown. I panicked. What was my purpose if I wasn’t working? But somewhere between the banana bread experiments and the 10th family bike ride of the week, I realized something I’d been missing for years — I was actually living.
For the first time, I was making my kids a full breakfast instead of tossing them a Pop-Tart (yep, I said it). I was tucking them in at night instead of answering late-night work emails. We were biking, walking, laughing, and existing together without an agenda. It wasn’t glamorous — but it was real.
And once I got a taste of that peace, I knew I couldn’t go back to the chaos.
The Reset I Didn’t Know I Needed
When furlough ended and I returned to work, something inside me had shifted. The same job that once fueled me now drained me. I didn’t want the hustle anymore — not like that. I’d learned to live with less, and surprisingly, it felt like more.
So, I did what many people are too afraid to do — I started over. I reinvented myself. I went back to the bottom, but this time, with direction and purpose. I decided to actually use those degrees I’d paid a small fortune for (because if you know, you know).
Since then, I’ve worked my way up again — but this time, I do it differently. I still have ambition, but I also have balance. I take my kids to school, I make weekend dinners, and I’m home in time to tuck them in. My version of success doesn’t come with burnout anymore — it comes with boundaries.
What Intentional Living Really Means
Here’s what I’ve learned: intentional living isn’t about quitting your job, selling your belongings, and living in a van (unless that’s your thing — then, go you!). It’s about awareness. It’s about choosing how you spend your time, who you give your energy to, and what actually adds meaning to your life.
Before, I thought intentional living meant having financial freedom — breaking the generational cycles and setting my kids up for success. And while that’s still important, I realized that my time is worth more than money. Time doesn’t come back — but money does.
Now, intentional living for me looks like:
- Saying no to things that drain me, even if they sound “productive.”
- Spending weekends outdoors with my family — hiking, camping, exploring.
- Learning new things just because I want to.
- Giving myself permission to slow down and not feel guilty about it.
- Building a life that feels good, not just looks good.
Living with Intention: How You Can Start
If you’re feeling that tug — that quiet voice saying, “something has to change” — listen to it. Intentional living doesn’t happen overnight. It starts with small questions and honest answers.
Ask yourself:
- What parts of my day feel forced instead of fulfilling?
- Who or what takes the most of my time — and is it worth it?
- What would my life look like if I slowed down, even just a little?
Once you start being honest with yourself, you can begin shifting things — one small decision at a time. Maybe it’s turning off your phone during dinner. Maybe it’s taking a walk after work instead of scrolling. Maybe it’s realizing your worth isn’t tied to productivity.
Intentional living is about being realistic, flexible, and open-minded. Sometimes, it means accepting a new reality you never planned for — but that doesn’t make it bad. In fact, it might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
Final Thoughts
Living intentionally changed my life — not in an overnight, everything’s-perfect-now kind of way — but in a slow, steady, deeply grounding way. It taught me that I can still be ambitious, still provide, and still have peace.
So, if you’re standing where I once stood — exhausted, unfulfilled, wondering if this is all life is — take a deep breath. Look around. Ask yourself what truly matters. Because intentional living starts the moment you stop running and start noticing.
And trust me, there’s a lot of beauty waiting to be noticed.
