No Such Thing Club
You tried gratitude, it didn’t fix it.
Neither did the reset, the routine, choosing joy, drinking more water, or manifesting harder. You did the work. All of it.
But you’re not fixed. So you start wondering if maybe you’re the problem.
You didn’t fail. You were sold something that didn’t exist.
So I made something that does.
From the Club
You don’t have to find the bright side here.
An honest, sweary journal for the thoughts you edit before saying out loud. Open anywhere, write what’s true, and skip whatever doesn’t land. No gratitude homework. No pressure to turn it into a lesson.
Milkweed or Nothing.
Milkweed is the only thing a monarch caterpillar can eat, and it gets called a weed for its trouble. Plant it anyway.
• NEW FROM THE CLUB •
Shirts for short fuses and very particular caterpillars
• NEW FROM THE CLUB • Shirts for short fuses and very particular caterpillars
For days when your shirt should do the talking.
No Such Thing Club shirts are here:
“One minor inconvenience away from losing it.”
Consider this fair warning.
The last prompt in the Anti-Gratitude Journal, now on a shirt for the days when you’d rather let your clothes explain.
“Milkweed is a monarch’s chicken nugget.”
For people with strong opinions about caterpillar snacks.
A nod to our milkweed seed balls and the monarch caterpillars they’re made for. Because even the smallest creatures have a preferred menu.
Work With Colleen
For the thing you already know the answer to and still can't do. You don't need more information. You need an hour with someone who won't flinch.
One-on-One Coaching
When you want a person, not an app. One hour, one thing, no silver linings.
Say It Out Loud
A coaching chat that answers back. On your phone, whenever the thing shows up.
No Such Thing Club
No such thing as the woman you’ve been trying to be. No such thing as the practice that fixes it. There is, however, a club.
You don't have to be grateful here. You don't have to be productive, inspiring, healed, or optimistic.
You just have to be honest
The perfectionist in me tried to out-schedule, outwork, and out-organize a brain tumor. Turns out, that doesn’t work. I can tell you exactly when that hit me and what I made when it did.
