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The Year I Stopped Following the Plan

A year ago, I walked away from a career that looked very good on paper.

Not because it was failing.
Not because I had a better plan.
But because something in me kept whispering:
Is this it? There has to be another way to live.

What followed was something much messier and much, much more alive.

The other day I caught myself standing at the kitchen counter with yet another cold cup of coffee, scrolling through drafts and old notes, and realized:

Oh. A whole year happened. Not a neat, “and then everything worked out” year.
A real one that I loved and that was really hard.

And somehow, you came with me.

So this is me sitting down with you and dumping Year One on the floor.

The behind-the-scenes version of what you’ve been watching me build in real time. The numbers, the experiments, the tender parts, the parts I didn’t see coming.

Back in March, I needed a recent pic to launch Substack. These are the selfies I took, quickly, just to hit publish. Leaving them here because they’re a snapshot in time and a little ridiculous, which is kind of the point.

And just to name it: this kind of post isn’t for everyone here.
Some people are here for essays and stories and to be guided through deeper inner work (same). Some people love the local Serenbe and Chatt Hills texture and info.

And some of you are also genuinely curious about the making of it all.
This one’s for you.

And if you’ve been here this year in any way, even quietly in the background… thank you. Truly.

In Today’s Issue

One quick note before we get into it:

If you enjoy these stories, you can subscribe free or paid. Paid doesn’t get you “more” right now. It just helps keep this space alive and tells me, please keep going. Which… honestly matters on the days I’m like, what am I doingggg.

Okay. Let’s do this.

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🌀What actually happened in Year One

This first year was part experiment, part exhale, part “what happens if I trust myself a little more… and freakin’ play?”

There was no master plan. No perfectly mapped content calendar. Just curiosity, intuition, and a lot of showing up as I am.

A snap from my last day at my corporate job. That smile speaks for itself.

My last day in corporate software marketing was April 1, 2025.

Life at Play on Substack officially started in March. I’ve published 27 pieces, and we’re now at 563 subscribers — 62 of you are paid, which still blows my mind.

I wrote essays I didn’t know I had in me.
I shared stories I might’ve kept to myself in another lifetime.
I hit “publish” before I felt ready (many, many times).

We covered everything from community, death, hormones, intuition, Serenbe, emotional awareness, AI, local farmers, motherhood, itchy whoo-has, play, clean living, menstrual cycles, psychics… and whatever else was inspiring or making me think that week.

Building something that’s meant to be used

In May, I launched lifeatplay.co and slowly rolled out a local Serenbe + Chatt Hills directory, event calendar, and visitor guide.

About 2,700 real humans found their way there. They didn’t just skim — they stayed for nearly two minutes on average, clicked around, explored events and listings, and interacted with the site over 42,000 times.

Seventy-five local businesses joined the directory. Five paid for featured listings.
That tells me something important: this isn’t just a place people read.
It’s starting to be a place people use.

On social media, I mostly hid behind Instagram stories (hello, comfort zone). In the last four months, I finally leaned into short-form video and started a TikTok.
I now have a few ongoing series — Building a 9–3 Business, Nuuly Hauls, Snooping Around My Neighbors’ Houses, Things I’m Learning from My Community — and 3,000 followers across platforms.
Where I share more than I probably should: Instagram | TikTok

Midyear, I also kicked off a local Women Business Owners Cohort – because I wanted to surround myself with others in the thick of entrepreneurship. Eight women, intentionally small, meeting twice a month. We’ve laughed, cried, worked, been vulnerable, and grown together. It’s been one of the most grounding parts of my year. There is a waitlist to join (ping me if you want on it, I will be opening one spot in Feb).

As of last week, I’ve hosted one IRL gathering. A walking club in the woods. I’m calling these Play Dates (for grown women). There will absolutely be more.

I’ve recorded six in-person podcast interviews that aren’t public… yet. They’re sitting patiently while I feel into what it would take to bring them to life in a way that feels sustainable and supportive – likely with sponsorship and an editor.

And this month, I said yes to my first official brand partnership with Four Rivers Skincare, founded by a childhood friend. I’ve been using their products quietly for a while, and it felt like the right place to begin. If you’re curious, you can explore them here.

The month everything slowed way down

I also did some marketing consulting and quickly realized: less is more if Life at Play is going to work. I narrowed it way down, and then paused entirely when my daughter had open-heart surgery in August (I’ve written more about that here and here, if you want to read.)

That month changed everything.
I said no to most things. I poured into care and slowness. I crocheted a king-size blanket. I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls.

Dottie two days after open heart surgery. What a warrior!

Everything went better than we could have imagined. All that’s left is one badass scar and a story. And the way the Serenbe community showed up during that season made me fall even more in love with this place.

Greg and I also started couples therapy shortly after. Not because we were broken, but because the year was really fucking hard, and we wanted to invest in us. Six sessions later, I feel closer and more in love with him than ever. Truly. We’ve been together 21 years (yes, we are annoyingly high school sweethearts), and watching us pour into each other (intentionally, grown-up-edly) has been one of the quiet gifts of this year.

🧺 What this season of work really looked like

On average this year, I worked about four days a week, roughly 9:00am–4:30pm, across Life at Play and consulting. And yes, I had (the best) full-time nanny, a privilege I don’t take lightly and one that made this season possible.

I mean this sincerely: I say pinch me daily that this is the work I get to do.

A photo from my second month into this. I bought professional pics to prep for the website. It felt silly then. Looking back, it was $130 very well spent.

I’m actively unlearning my attachment to money, titles, success, and ego. That work is ongoing. Some days feel expansive and grounding. Other days are confusing and tender. When low moments hit in an entrepreneurial, life-led business where you don’t fully know the end goal… they hit hard.

This whole thing is a big experiment in whether I can design a happier, more fulfilled life. Not just a higher title with more money.

And now that I’m here, I don’t think I could ever go back to a traditional corporate role. At least not in the same way. Not while being a mom to two young kids.

Not after tasting this version of life.

I didn’t want to replace one impressive, misaligned system with another.

Because I’m having too much fun building a life that doesn’t require me to be in an office 9–5, five days a week, with 15 days of PTO… while also being the mom, friend, wife, and community member I want to be.

When you actually run the numbers, that math doesn’t work.
Something always has to give, and I won’t let it be my physical or mental health.

What I didn’t want was to replace one impressive, misaligned system with another.
This year wasn’t a failure of momentum. It was a deliberate refusal to build another machine that required me to disappear inside it.

For a long time, slowness felt like something to apologize for. I’m starting to see it differently now.

This slowness isn’t a flaw.
It’s a strategy.

💰The money (the real real)

I’m sharing this part not to impress or perform, but because I know many of us are quietly wondering what’s actually possible when you build something slower and more human.

At my peak in corporate, I was making $235k a year.
And earlier this year, I also received a one-year salary bonus from a stock buyout — the thing I now jokingly call my sign from the universe. Because with that, I was officially out of excuses to stay.

Here’s where things landed this year:

I made about $60k in revenue since April.
Most of that came from consulting, which acted as a financial backbone and gave me room to build Life at Play slowly.

About $6k from Substack, entirely from paid subscribers (still wild to me). Especially since EVERY reader gets the same content right now. So upgrading to paid feels less like a transaction and more like a quiet vote of confidence that says, I value this. Please keep going. Truly. Thank you.

I reinvested all of it back into the business.

This wasn’t a profit year.
It was a playing around and building year.

Most of that investment went into:

  • the directory + event calendar (~$15k)

  • contractors and consultants (~$20k)

  • software and tools (~$3k)

  • and the very real, unglamorous costs of running a business

When I zoom out and factor in everything this work absorbed (like my home office rent, phone, internet, child modeling etc), that I was able to offset with the business, (yes, I absolutely did that for taxes), Im really looking at negative $25k for the year.

And I’m okay with that for year 1.

Life at Play isn’t meant to feel like a high-growth media company.
It’s not trying to be.

It’s more like a meandering road trip. I have a sense of direction, sure. But if we see something interesting along the way, we’re pulling over.

🧠The work beneath the work

What I keep coming back to is this:
Doing this kind of work has been some of the deepest inner work I’ve ever done.

Not because it’s spiritual or slow or soulful (though it can be all of that). But because it has forced me to loosen my grip on ego. On productivity. On the idea that money equals worth.

I was trained to produce. To do more. To lean in. To keep climbing.

This year has been a quiet but radical rebellion against everything in me that learned those rules. I’m still driven by money. And praise. And external validation. But I’ve noticed it has a little less power over me now.

My lowest moments this year haven’t been about the work itself. They’ve been the moments where I look up (usually when i’m hormonal) and think, I’m not totally sure where this goes next or where the money will come from.

That uncertainty can be terrifying. And at the same time… I can feel something else underneath it. I can see it. I can taste it. My intuition knows that if I show up, it will all come.

I’ve also worked really hard not to feel guilty. To reframe the story from I’m spending more than I’m making to I worked my ass off for 15 years so I could invest in myself and build something I love.

This year moved waves in me. Not numbers I can neatly report. Just a deep internal shift. Something cracked open.

Some glass walls I didn’t even know were there came down.

If you’re in a season where the inner shift feels loud but the outer proof is still quiet, I just want you to know this:

that doesn’t mean nothing’s happening.

It might mean something important is.

💛 What you seemed to love most

One of my favorite parts of doing a recap like this is noticing patterns together.

Here’s what stood out this year:

Personal stories landed hardest.
The slower essays. The specific ones. The “this is what’s actually happening” pieces.

Transitions resonated.
Burnout. Reinvention. Motherhood. Grief. Choosing differently. A lot of us are quietly rewriting our lives at the same time.

Local life mattered more than I expected.
Even readers who don’t live here loved the texture: the walks, the rituals, the sense of place.

You’re not just here for information. You’re here for meaning.

Reader favorites (in case you missed them)

If you’ve been around a while, I’d LOVE to know:
Did you have a favorite piece this year?

✍️ A small end-of-year ritual (for anyone who wants it)

One more thing before we move on. For almost ten years now, I’ve ended the year the same way:

I write a letter to my future self.
Not a goals list. Not a vision board.
Just a letter. Honest. Ordinary. Whatever wants to come out.

This year, I thought I’d open it up to all of you.

Here’s how it works:

  • Write a letter to yourself.

  • Seal it. Address it to you.

  • If you’re local, you can drop it in the basket on my front porch by January 31. I’ll hold onto it, stamp it, and mail it back to you in December 2026.

If you’re not local, you can still participate. You can tuck your letter somewhere meaningful — a book, a drawer, a memory box — or, if you want me to be the one to hold it, just reply or DM me and we’ll figure out mailing details together.

That’s it.

A small note to your future self.

If it feels like something you want to be part of, you’re welcome.

📍 For the Locals

👀 In Case You Missed It

Quick hits of neighborhood news + updates, straight from the community.

  • Did you know? Steve Nygren launched a Substack this year while on his book tour. His latest piece on choosing optimism in 2026 is a grounded, hopeful read, especially if you believe change starts close to home.

  • Christina Trifero’s Spiritual Curiosity circle. Just One last spot in this six-part journey into intuition, held in a small, supportive group here in Serenbe. I joined the last one and LOVEEED it. Learn more.

  • Kids 2026 Spring T-Ball + Coach Pitch in Chatt Hills is open for kids ages 3–14 the season kicks off in March at Rico Park and runs through May. Details, updates, and volunteer info are all over at community-brickworks.org.

  • Kids 2026 Spring Soccer with Soccer Shots at the serenbe athletic fields the season kicks off in march at Serenbe athletic fields and runs through may. d sign ups are open

  • Mahjong League at Serenbe Open Play Nights Monthly Mahjong open play happens every third Thursday. This month’s game is January 15, 6:00–8:30pm at Halsa. $10 per person. 18+.

  • Serenbe Farmers Market Moves Indoors for Winter For the first time ever, the farmers market is indoors for the winter season. 9am–12pm at Gainey Hall

  • Kim Bracey Piano Lessons Kim is now enrolling students of all ages and levels for small-group piano lessons. A free trial lesson is available. She’s also offering a adult beginner class starting in January. Email her for details.

  • Tui-Na Acupressure Massage Comes to town A new bodywork offering at Creek Retreat, a traditional Chinese acupressure massage focused on restoring balance, easing tension, and supporting the body’s natural healing process. As a welcome, they’re offering $20 off first sessions through January

📅 Local Events

The local events worth knowing about this month.

Browse or subscribe to the calendar anytime at lifeatplay.co/events. Add your own events if you’re hosting something worth sharing – submit here.

Thank you (again)

If you’ve been here since the beginning, shared a post, replied to an email, joined a walk, or supported this work as a paid subscriber — please know this:
You are not a passive audience.
You are part of the shape of this thing.

Life at Play is still becoming.
I’m still becoming.

And I’m really glad you’re here for it.

With so much love,
Gina

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