currently under construction + identity thrifting + lions gate birthday incoming đŚ
AUG 02, 2026
Unusual winds and relentless rain have settled over Indonesia, the sprawling archipelago of more than seventeen thousand islands that stretch across the equator that, for the past six months I have called home. Even here, where the jungle still swallows buildings whole and the ocean dictates the rhythm of each day, the signs of climate change are impossible to ignore.
In thirteen days, this chapter will become part of my past. Another version of my life folded away, another home that will soon exist in memory.
If youâve been reading my writing for a while, youâll know that this past year has been defined by one recurring theme: not knowing. Iâve shared about how foggy this season of my life has felt. The path ahead, the next iteration of my work and of myself, has refused to reveal itself in the neat, crystalline way I so often wish it would.
Change has always been a constant in my life. We are all evolving all of the time whether we notice it or not. But I donât think Iâve ever experienced such a prolonged period of standing on the edge of something I can feel so deeply without yet being able to fully see it. It has felt at once incredibly significant and intangible, as though Iâm living inside something that is reshaping my entire life while, from the outside, it looks like almost nothing is happening at all.
Judging by the emails you send me and the conversations I find myself having almost daily, I know Iâm far from alone in this. So many of you are living inside your own version of this in-between, questioning. Clear, unclear, right, or wrong, trying to make sense of the uncertainty. I keep returning to it because it makes the process of becoming something new a shared experience.
At first, I resisted this season completely. Like most things that arrive uninvited, my instinct was to escape it, to solve it, to move through it as quickly as possible so I could get back to feeling certain again. But somewhere over the past year, the place that once felt so awful has slowly become… not comfortable exactly, but familiar. Iâve spent so long in this underground season that it no longer feels like somewhere Iâm trapped, but like Iâm being prepared. I have stopped demanding to know exactly when Iâll emerge and where I am going. I (impatiently) trust that I am exactly where I need to be right now.
I canât help but feel that this is one of the defining invitations of our time. We are being reminded to stop producing packaged versions of ourselves, to stop optimising every part of our lives and to become more deeply ourselves in the actual living of life. To enjoy where we are while weâre still messy, uncertain, changing our minds and becoming. To return to life as it is really is.
Over the years Iâve come to trust that our individual lives are often little microcosms of broader cultural shifts. We donât all experience the same thing at the same time, but there are seasons where enough of us find ourselves asking the same questions that it begins to feel less like coincidence and more like a real movement taking place beneath the surface.
What I also notice is that so many people are responding to this season by making themselves smaller. As though uncertainty is asking them to quieten down, want less, risk less, become less visible, less ambitious and less expressive until the answers eventually arrive.
While I do think weâre collectively being invited to loosen our grip on consumption, on external validation, on endlessly chasing more things, more status and more proof that weâre doing life correctly, I donât think that invitation is asking us to become less. If anything, I think itâs asking us to strip away the layers that were never really us in the first place so that more of our essence has room to breathe. There is a difference between consuming less and becoming less. There is a difference between simplifying your life and shrinking yourself to fit inside it.
The universe never stops expanding. Everything in the natural world is in relationship with expansion, not as an endless pursuit of accumulation, but as an expression of life itself. I canât help but think that we are, too.
Whenever I see people online insisting that you must know exactly where youâre heading, have a crystal clear vision for your future, a five-year plan, and should map out every step between where you are and where you want to be to get anywhere, I shake my head. I donât think life works quite so neatly. It never has for me, anyway.
The only way we truly create a life that is different from the one weâve already lived is if we allow it to reveal itself to us as weâre existing in it. Evolution isnât something we can pre-plan because every experience changes us, and each version of ourselves makes different decisions than the one before. The woman writing this today would make choices that the woman I was three years ago couldnât imagine making, because she hadnât lived as much life yet.
Iâve been sitting with a question in my journal for a week now: Who and how am I being when Iâm unmistakably myself?
Every time I have attempted to answer it, my words feel strangely incomplete. They skim around the edges of something I cannot capture. I can describe qualities, values and characteristics, but none of them quite reach the essence of what Iâm trying to articulate. I realised that, like with many things, âwho I amâ cannot be designed but rather needs to be lived and breathed into existence day by day. By showing up, by trying on different versions of self, by connecting with my inner child, by destroying old identities that have acted as protection and letting myself be raw and naked and in the void for extended periods, as uncomfortable and unsafe as that feels.
Iâve been reading about this idea recently that we donât have one fixed identity, but countless identities already living within us, waiting for an invitation to be expressed. Another one of my kismet book finds: âan investigation into the occult, the paranormal and the supernaturalâ by Colin Wilson.
Not identities that are fabricated but real aspects of ourselves that weâve either cultivated or neglected over the course of our lives. Somewhere along the way we convince ourselves that we are one thing. The quiet one. The responsible one. The anxious one. The successful one. The creative one. The sexy one. The ugly one. The fit one. The lazy one. They begin as descriptions that then harden into identities. We stop saying, I feel anxious today, and instead begin saying, I am an anxious person.
We stop noticing that we’ve been playing a particular role and begin believing that we are the role itself. We rehearse these identities so many times that we begin to eblieve that is who we are now.
Children donât have this problem. One moment theyâre an explorer, the next theyâre a dragon, then a teacher, then a pirate, then theyâre drawing in the corner. They move so fluidly between ways of being because they havenât learnt to choose one version of themselves and remain stuck in it forever. Which makes me think that this internal pivot is less about becoming someone new and more about remembering that I have access to far more of myself than I have allowed.
I’ve started thinking about these identities almost as different levels of expression of ourselves. Some identities keep us operating within the boundaries of who we’ve always believed ourselves to be. Then some identities call us into a fuller expression of ourselves. More courage. More creativity. More openness. More play. More generosity. More leadership. More love.
There are versions of me that keep me small because they were created to keep me safe. They learnt to anticipate disappointment, to seek approval, to stay quiet, to avoid taking up too much space. I donât judge them because they did exactly what they were created to do. But there are other parts of me too. Parts that feel expansive, creative, generous, deeply trusting of life. Iâm learning to let those new parts of myself to lead.
This conversation has been occupying so much of my thinking lately that it has found its way into my journal, into my client sessions, into conversations with friends, and into a new video I filmed. Itâs part diary, part Q&A and part exploration of what it really looks like to shift identity from the inside out. A lot of the questions you sent in circled around business, money and creating work that feels deeply aligned.
video timestamps so you can see where you want to go:
0:00Â Hi, Iâm Vienda â properly introducing myself for the first time
0:26Â Tuesday 6:45 am â letâs spend the day together
0:55Â Ten years as a psychology-educated mentor for women
1:50Â Getting dressed, coffee, morning walk
2:40Â Life has been asking me to do things differently
4:10Â Answering your Q&A questions â the real question beneath them all
5:41Â The question is never âhowâ â itâs âwho do I need to becomeâ &Â COWORK
6:41Â After the hairdresser â little crush confession
7:16Â Wednesday morning â I love slow mornings but hate up and out
8:09Â The questions you sent in are really about identity shift
8:56Â What do I miss most after six months in Bali?
9:19Â Bali as an adult playground â and what Iâm ready for next
10:56Â If I knew I couldnât fail â my secret childhood dream
12:43Â Why identity shift is the answer to every question
13:30Â You cannot think your way into a new identity
14:30Â The three pillars: environment, body, self-talk
17:05Â Q&A: How do you create a life of freedom?
17:23Â Freedom as an identity decision before a practical one
18:20Â Q&A: Where is the line between surrender and avoidance?
19:25Â You do your 50% â then take your hands off
20:46Â Q&A: My relationship with money
21:08Â Why I think the stock market is ridiculous
22:11Â Money as a sacred and beautiful resource
22:58Â Coming soon â my Affluence course
23:49Â My income sources: clients, courses, sponsorships, investments
24:13Â Wrapping up â next video will be from Europe
This is particularly timely because applications for the next round of my live group mentorship, COWORK, opened yesterday. Weâll spend two months together not just talking about strategy, marketing and building a business that supports your life, but exploring the identity that is required to build it. Because in my experience, your business can only ever grow to the extent that youâre willing to grow alongside it. The practical and the personal have never felt separate to me, and COWORK has become the place where those two worlds get to meet. Applications are now open for our September cohort.
Next Saturday is my birthday, which makes me a Lionâs Gate1 baby. đŚ Rawr.
Birthday month has officially commenced, and after spending so much of this past year learning how to receive, rest, soften and celebrate the ordinary moments, Iâve decided to be very, very generous with myself this year. So far I have: made my inner child a crystal necklace, bought myself a sorbet lemon linen mini-dress and a pair of gold-and-pearl heart earrings, and booked myself a 3-hour massage experience.
If youâd like to celebrate with me too, Iâd love to invite you to become a paid subscriber. As a little birthday gift from me to you, Iâm running my biggest subscription sale ever for the whole of August. Annual memberships are 70% off, which means they drop from $50 to just $15 for the entire year (!!).
If my writing has ever made you feel a little less alone, helped you make sense of a season of your life, or simply become a comforting weekend ritual, becoming a paid subscriber is one of the most meaningful ways you can support my work. Youâll also unlock the full archive of essays, including the more personal, vulnerable pieces that I keep tucked away behind the paywall.
Thank you for reading, for replying, for sharing your own stories with me and for letting me do this strange, beautiful little job of writing letters to the internet.
See you soon. đ
The Lionâs Gate portal opens as the Earth, the star Sirius, and the Sun move into complete alignment with the pyramids of Giza (Egypt). The powerful peak occurs on August 8 (8/8) and is considered one of the most ideal times of year to harness good luck.