We Moved to Florida in 60 Days. It Took a Year to Land.

A year ago, we packed up our lives in 60 days and moved to Florida.

It wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t fully thought out.

It wasn’t some perfectly planned “next chapter.”

It was fast. Emotional. Necessary.

And if I’m being honest… it took me an entire year just to feel like I’ve even landed.

When we left, I think part of me believed the move itself would create clarity.

A fresh place. A fresh start.

More space. More time. More sunshine.

And in some ways, that’s exactly what we got.

But what I didn’t expect… was how much this year would ask of me.

This year has been the most intense year of my life.

Not because of one big moment... but because of everything underneath it.

We’ve been rebuilding. Relearning.

Growing in ways that don’t always look like growth.

Healing in ways that don’t always feel good.

Trying to take space… while also figuring out who we are inside of it.

There’s something no one really tells you about starting over:

You don’t just change your environment…you lose your reference points.

The places that felt familiar.

The routines that grounded you.

The roles that defined you.

I spent 31 years of my life in Wisconsin.

Every version of me was built there.

The girl I was.

The life I created.

The work I poured myself into.

The people who knew me before I knew myself.

There’s something about growing up in the same place for that long…it becomes part of your identity without you even realizing it.

It’s not just where you’re from, it’s how you move, how you think, how you see yourself.

And for a long time, I didn’t question any of it. Because I didn’t have to.

But moving here, to Florida, shifted that.

Not just the weather.

Not just the pace.

Everything.

Back home, life had a rhythm I understood.

Seasons that told you when to slow down and when to push.

People who knew your story without you having to explain it.

A version of me that felt… established.

Here, there was no rhythm at first.

Just space.

And space will either ground you…or make you face everything you’ve been avoiding.

And in the middle of all of that…

I was learning how to be a mom.

Aidyn had just turned one when we decided to move.

I was still breastfeeding. Still deeply in that phase of being needed in a way nothing else prepares you for.

There’s no clocking out of that.

No “I’ll come back to this later.”

Motherhood was happening in real time…while everything else in my life was shifting just as fast.

At the same time, I was writing.

Not casually. Not when it was convenient.

I was writing, editing, and preparing to publish my book—Enough Already—in the middle of all of it.

Between naps. Late at night.

In the quiet moments I could find… or create.

And I don’t think I fully realized it at the time…

But I wasn’t just moving to a new place.

I was holding multiple versions of myself all at once:

The version of me learning how to be a present, grounded mother.

The version of me building something meaningful through my work.

And the version of me trying to figure out who I was becoming in a brand new environment.

And while all of that was happening…

I was also showing up for my partner in a season where he needed me more than ever.

And the truth is, I didn’t always have much left to give.

There were moments when I felt pulled in every direction.

Being a mom.

Showing up for my partner.

Building my work.

Paying the bills.

Staying present.

And trying not to forget about myself in the middle of all of it.

Some days I did it well.

Other days, something had to give.

And that’s probably been one of the hardest lessons this year has taught me.

That I can’t be everything, all the time, for everyone…without losing parts of myself in the process.

Florida has given me space in ways I didn’t even realize I needed.

Space to spend more time with my son.

Space to slow down (even when I resist it).

Space to create differently... at home, outside, in ways that feel more like me (like the She Shed;)

But it also exposed me.

Because when things get quiet… you hear yourself more.

And this year, I’ve heard things I couldn’t ignore.

Where I was overextending.

Where I was still performing instead of just being.

Where I was holding onto identities that didn’t fully fit anymore.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that

the move, the motherhood, the writing, the rebuilding

something started to shift.

Not in a loud, obvious way.

But in a quieter, more honest way.

I’m learning how to be here… instead of always trying to prove something.

I’m learning that slowing down doesn’t mean I’m falling behind.

I’m learning that growth isn’t always visible, but it’s still happening.

And maybe that’s why I’ve started creating something new out of this season.

Enough Already Resets.

A monthly space to pause.

To reconnect with ourselves.

To step out of the noise, the pressure, the constant doing—and come back to what’s real.

Because if this year has taught me anything…it’s that we don’t need more pressure to become someone new.

We need space to come back to who we already are.

Next Thursday, I’ll be hosting my second RESET.

And it feels different this time.

More grounded.

More intentional.

More aligned with the life I’m actually living not the one I thought I needed to have figured out by now.

This year didn’t give me a perfectly put together life.

It gave me something better.

It gave me awareness. It gave me space to question what actually matters.

It gave me moments with my family that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

And maybe the biggest thing it gave me… was the realization that starting over doesn’t mean escaping your life. It means meeting yourself in a new way.

I’m still in it.

Still building.

Still figuring it out.

Still becoming.

But for the first time in a long time…

I’m not rushing that process.

If you’re in a season where things feel uncertain, messy, or slower than you expected…

you’re not doing it wrong.

Sometimes it takes a full year just to settle into the decision you already made.

Sometimes growth looks like rebuilding everything without fully knowing what it’s becoming yet.

And maybe you don’t need to start over somewhere new to feel that shift.

Maybe you just need a moment to pause… and come back to yourself.

Join me at the RESET next week at www.nadinespeaks.com/experiences

xo,

N