I thought I’d never stop watching cooking shows.

It started with Lidia’s Kitchen on PBS Saturday mornings. Before I knew it, I was drizzling olive oil right before serving my Lipton noodles like I had a restaurant to run.

Little did I know that show was basically a gateway drug.

Soon it was Cook’s Country with Christopher Kimball, who always seemed one sentence away from telling us we’d all been making soup wrong.

Then Food Network arrived an fully took over my Saturdays.

I watching Giada’s daughter, Jade, munch up pasta with her fingers, started calling olive oil EVOO (come on, we all did it), and started my sentences with “Fukui-san!” ala Iron Chef.

This was such a long-running Saturday ritual for me that I almost got emotional for so many years that my eyes may have gotten a bit moist when little Toddy Drummond grew old enough to direct cattle while standing in the middle of a fast-running herd.

And then, things started to shift.

I started dating my husband who watched the news instead (yawn). We started going to the gym together & running errands afterward. And the late Saturday programming changed to cooking competitions & kids constructing fondant dragons.

One Saturday around 10:30 I sat my freshly showered, high on exercise endorphins self down to watch Tricia Yearwood teach her niece how to cook on a tight college student budget and realized:

…I just didn’t care anymore.

“Who Am I?”, I wondered.

What once used to bring me so much joy & inspiration was now just “meh”.

And that feeling was strangely unsettling.

Because sometimes the first sign that you’re changing isn’t some dramatic epiphany.

It’s realizing that something that once felt so “you” suddenly doesn’t anymore.

And while that realization can feel disorienting at first, it’s often the beginning of something really important. And exciting.

If you’ve been feeling that subtle pull lately, that “I think I might be outgrowing something but I’m not really sure what comes next” feeling, that’s exactly the kind of transition I help people navigate in my coaching work.

Not by reinventing your whole life overnight.

Just by helping you figure out what actually fits this next version of you.