Work with me

A long letter about a small offer. Take your time with it.

If you've found your way here, you've probably been reading me for a while.

Maybe you came in through one of the essays — the tree in the greenhouse, the labels that became walls, the witness piece — and something in it landed in a way you weren't quite ready for. Maybe you've been on the list for months, opening the Tuesday letters and then closing them quietly, not subscribing yet to anything you can't take back. Maybe you've never read me before, and someone you trust forwarded this page, and you're trying to decide whether to keep scrolling.

Whichever way you arrived, I want to slow down for a moment before I tell you what I do.

Because there's a particular kind of person I work with, and if you're not her, this page is going to cost you ten minutes you'd rather have spent elsewhere. I want to give you the chance to find out early.

Who this is for

I work with women who have already done the inner work.

You've been in therapy, probably for years. You know your attachment style, your nervous system, your patterns. You can name what happened to you and what it did to you. You've read the books — the slow-living books, the productivity books, the contemplative books, the trauma books. You've sat with teachers. You have language for almost everything.

And despite all of this — because of all of this, in some quiet way you can't quite explain — you cannot make yourself move.

You sit at your kitchen table with the email you've been drafting in your head for six weeks, and you don't send it. You have the idea for the thing. You have the framework for the thing. You can describe, with precision, why the thing matters. You just don't begin it.

You've started to suspect that the next piece of advice, the next book, the next framework is not going to help. You've started to suspect, quietly, that you've been preparing for years for a life you aren't yet living.

If that's you, you're who I write to. You're who I work with.

If that's not you — if you're earlier in the work, or looking for a coach who'll push you into action faster, or wanting a method delivered in 90 days — I'm not the right person, and I want to say that clearly. There are good coaches for those needs. I'm not one of them.

The day-to-day

Once a week, I send you a prompt. Sometimes it's a question. Sometimes a small experiment. Sometimes an observation about something you said the week before that I want you to sit with.

You take the week with it. By the end of the week, you write back. Length is yours — anywhere from a few hundred words to a few thousand. The instruction I give every client in the welcome letter is the same: write until you've said the thing, not until you've made it good. The letters are not meant to be performances. They are meant to be honest.

I read what you send carefully. Then I write back, usually shorter than your letter — because my job is precision, not volume. My response reflects what I heard, offers one frame or distinction, and ends with your next prompt.

That's the cycle. Once a week. For a year. Inside that simple rhythm, more work happens than most people expect.

Once a month, on top of the weekly exchange, I send a longer synthesis letter. It names what's emerged in your writing, locates you on the four-stage arc, and forecasts what the next month is likely to ask of you. Think of the weekly exchanges as close-up; the monthly letter is the view from the ridge.

In between scheduled exchanges, you can send shorter notes when something happens in real time — you sent the email, you had the conversation, the pattern showed up at dinner. I respond briefly, usually within a day or two on weekdays. These are witness notes, not full coaching responses. The deep work happens in the weekly exchange. The in-between is for the human moments.

What this is not

It is not therapy. I'm not a therapist, and I won't pretend to be. If what you actually need is therapy — and some of what you're carrying probably is therapy work, especially if it has trauma at its root — I'll say that, and I'll be useful to you about finding someone good. The two kinds of work can run alongside each other; they often do.

It is not strategy consulting or business coaching. If you're trying to grow a business and need someone to help you build a launch plan, I'm not that. Some of the women I work with are building things — businesses, books, art practices, lives — and the capacity work touches that, but it's not the spine. The spine is you, not your project.

It is not a course, a group program, or a community. There are people you'll never meet. The work is private, slow, and in writing, and it stays that way.

It is not a quick conversion. The clients who change in a year change because we both committed to a year. If you're hoping to feel different by month three, you'll be disappointed. The kind of change I work toward isn't legible from inside the early months. You have to trust the process before you can see what it's done.

What I'll ask of you

A year of consistent showing up. Not perfectly — missed weeks happen, and they're part of the work, not a violation of it. But a fundamental willingness to keep returning to the page, even when you don't want to.

Honesty. Not the curated, well-articulated kind that you've gotten good at. The other kind. The kind that says I don't know when you don't, and I'm scared when you are, and I didn't do the thing this week when that's the truth. The work cannot happen on top of careful self-presentation.

A willingness to sit with discomfort. Not to push through it, not to override it, not to bypass it — but to be with it, in writing, with someone watching. That's the actual technology of this work. If you can't yet do this, that's okay; some of what we'll work on is exactly this capacity. But you'll need to be willing to try.

The financial commitment. The work is expensive enough that it has to be a real choice for you. I don't want it to be financially trivial — that changes the shape of how you show up to it.

Investment

The year is $7,500.

I want to say something about the price, because I imagine a small jolt happens when you read it.

The price is what it is because I work with a small number of people for a long time. The work is not scaled. It is not leveraged. There is no group program, no course library, no app. There is one person — me — reading your letters carefully and writing back, fifty-two times across a year, with a synthesis letter once a month. The price reflects what that costs to produce well.

If the number lands as out of reach, I want to honor that as real information. I don't offer payment plans designed to obscure the cost. I don't offer scholarships or sliding scales. The right answer when something is genuinely out of reach is not yet, not let's restructure the offer. I'd rather you arrive a year from now ready and able than arrive now stretched.

If the number lands as a real-but-meaningful commitment — the kind that asks something of you without breaking you — that's the right register for this work, and we should probably keep talking.

What happens next

If you've read this far and something in it is still alive for you, the next step is to fill out my intake form.

It's not a quick form. It will ask you to write — about where you are, what you've tried, what you're carrying, what you're hoping might be different a year from now. Most people take 30 to 60 minutes with it. Some take longer.

I want to be honest about what the intake is for. It's not a screening application. It's part of the work. The questions are designed to produce insight, not just data — by the time you finish it, you'll have done some real thinking about your own situation. People often tell me the intake itself was clarifying.

I read every intake carefully. If your answers and my work seem like a fit, I'll write you back within a few business days with a real letter — not a templated yes — and we'll go from there. If we're not the right match, I'll tell you that too, and I'll do my best to suggest what kind of work might actually serve you.

The intake form is here: https://tally.so/r/gDWdEP

I take a small number of new clients each cycle. Sometimes there's room immediately. Sometimes there's a short waitlist. I'll let you know which when I read your intake.

One last thing

If you're not ready yet, that's okay. It's almost always okay.

The work I do is not urgent in the way most internet offers want you to believe their work is. The right time is the time it actually feels right, and not before. If you read this page and you feel a quiet not yet, honor that. Stay on the list. Keep reading the essays. Come back when something's shifted.

The door isn't going anywhere.

And if the right time turns out to be now — if you read this and something in your chest said yes, this is the thing — then I'll see you on the other side of the form

Either way, thank you for reading. I don't take it lightly that you spent this time here.