bridging the gap

we see each other at our kids events, networking meetings, happy hours, local restaurants, and our row at church. an hour or three of interaction never paints the full story. We live in a country that, according to US News and World Report “America’s gross domestic product in 2022 was more than 40% greater than that of China, the world No. 2. Even more striking, U.S. GDP was over five times that of the next two largest economies, Japan and Germany.”

we’re swimming in cash, domestically, and yet income disparity is through the roof.

not only do we differ economically, we differ in our religious beliefs, that about therapy, who should and shouldn’t open a business, and where that business is okay. as long as our personal spaces aren’t infringed upon, we can get along just fine.

but what happens when life happens? When the panic attack hits or we lose our jobs and have to go home and tell our families? what happens when the food runs out or our zoloft prescription isn’t refilled?

our hope at re:co is simple: that you’re empowered to be bold enough to disrupt systems that keep you stuck.

We know it’s not easy to share the pain of your past and present. it’s difficult to approach leadership in your church or office to say something’s not right and we can work together to fix it.

You don’t have to have all the answers to make an impact. give yourself permission to dream and see what you can do when you’re scared, uncertain, and full of the lies that you believe about how articulate and educated you need to be to make a difference.

it’s going to take all of us.

are you in?

a powerful place

it can be difficult to consider what stepping into the mental wellness advocacy space could look like. you’re not a therapist. You’re not a counselor. that’s not your lane.

but your sister struggled to connect to her new baby and your mother-in-law is battling an addiction everyone pretends isn’t there.

it’s people you love.

it’s you.

Stepping out and sharing your story feels overwhelming and unprofessional. You’re unsure how to do it and maintain the “you”ness of it without oversharing.

I get that. There’s a fine line between vulnerability and trauma dumping. at its best, storytelling unites people for the greater good. at its worst, it’s egotistical and prideful.

somewhere in your life, someone shared an experience that resonated with you and made you feel less alone. you suddenly had commonality and things that made you feel seen, or at least acknowledged. I pray wherever you find yourself that you consider sharing a piece of yourself with someone you haven’t before. it doesn’t have to be your life story, but rather a time you, too, didn’t know how the systems in your office worked or what it meant to potty train a toddler. here you are in your years of lived experience hammering out spreadsheets without even thinking twice and you’ve launched three (potty-trained) kids to college.

look. at. you.

In the learning curve is connection. lean into it. let people in. It doesn’t have to be leading a group or throwing an event, it can simply be showing up, sitting down, being present, and letting people into the spaces that make you uniquely you.

I’m so glad you’re here. stay awhile. you’re welcome here.