I've always been someone who needed boundaries — 100% stemming from my childhood. It used to be in a rigid, walls-up kind of way but as I have grown, I’ve learned to actually use them as my superpower in business and now in motherhood. When the people around me tell me I am really good at boundaries, I take that as the highest compliment because let me tell you, it has been years in the making of me mastering this craft.
Since becoming a mom, boundaries have taken on a new light for me.
I recently got to talk about all of this and more on an episode of Raising Hustle with my business yin to my yang, Mariel Fry. We got real about the identity shifts, the ambition that doesn't disappear but does change shape, and what it actually looks like to run a business with a baby under one year old. If you haven't listened yet, go do that.
But here's some of what's been on my heart and how I am actively healing from my childhood through my motherhood journey.
Before she got here, I guess I laid the groundwork
Moxie literally just turned five. I was watching a video I posted on that very first day, hearing myself talk about what I wanted this to be, and it still rings true. But back then there was no sweet baby Grace. No Nick asking what's for dinner. No schedule to build my workday around.
My business was my baby, and I gave it everything.
What was there, though, was a younger version of me who was determined to build a business differently. Now I know, on some subconscious level, I was laying the groundwork before I had a whole human to birth and keep alive.
The first boundary
When I was around 23, long before starting my own business, I started seeing one of my all-time favorite therapists. (Shoutout to Dorney!) If you've ever been to therapy, you know there are certain conversations that stick with you forever, and for me, learning about boundaries was one of them.
Because of my childhood and some of the relationships I had with family, I realized as an adult that I needed to start creating boundaries of my own. Up until that point, I don't think I fully understood that I was allowed to. Boundaries became my ticket to building a life that felt like mine instead of constantly worrying about someone else's expectations, opinions, or attempts to control it.
While I was learning all of this in therapy, I was in my first big-girl job and getting my first real taste of workplace expectations, office politics, and the unspoken pressure to always be available. Like a lot of people early in their careers, I felt like I had something to prove. Saying yes felt easier than saying no, even when that yes came at my own expense.
One of my clearest memories from that time is being expected to work weekends. Even now, thinking about it makes my chest tighten. It felt restrictive. It felt like my time wasn't my own. It felt like being taken advantage of. Looking back, I can see that those experiences were reinforcing the very lessons I was learning in therapy: if you don't protect your time, someone else will decide how it's spent.
So when I eventually started Moxie, one of the very first boundaries I put in place was around office hours. I've never liked working weekends, and I've never liked working late. My clients know I'm available Monday through Friday during business hours. They know I'll move mountains for them. I'll solve problems, hit deadlines, and pour my heart into their projects. What they also know is that you probably won't find me answering emails at 9 p.m. on a Saturday, and I won't be expecting them to answer mine either.
Some people see boundaries as a preference. I've always seen them as protection. Looking back now, I think they were also practice for a season of life that was still years away.
What boundaries actually look like now
The funny thing is that when I first started learning about boundaries, I thought they were mostly about protecting myself. They were a way to create distance from situations, expectations, and relationships that felt unhealthy or overwhelming. What I didn't realize then was that boundaries aren't just about what you keep out. They're also about what you make space for. Looking back now, I can see that all those years of learning how to protect my time, energy, and peace were preparing me for a role I didn't even have yet.
Today, those same boundaries look very different than they did when I was twenty-three. Instead of helping me navigate difficult family dynamics or workplace expectations, they're helping me create the kind of life I want for my family. The little girl who grew up feeling like she needed stronger boundaries is now using them to build a childhood for her daughter that feels intentional, present, and grounded.
Right now, I have childcare Tuesday through Thursday, and not even full days. About four hours each. That's my dedicated work window, and I protect it because I know exactly how valuable that time is. I don't load my schedule with unrealistic expectations, and I don't put deadlines on my calendar for days when I know I'll be caring for Grace. I've learned that setting myself up for success is a form of self-respect. Could I try to squeeze work into every spare moment? Sure. But I've realized that constantly trying to do everything at once usually means I'm not fully present for any of it.
Of course, if she naps and I get a little extra work time, I'll happily take it. But I don't build my plans around the possibility of a perfect day. Motherhood has taught me that flexibility matters just as much as structure.
Clear communication has always been a huge part of how I operate. It comes with being in the business of communications. But now it feels even more important. When I tell a client I'll be back at my desk tomorrow at 10 a.m., it's not because I care less about their project. It's because I've learned that honesty creates better expectations than overpromising ever could. My clients deserve my full attention when I'm working, and my family deserves the same when I'm not.
It's not just business. It's home too.
One thing motherhood has revealed is that boundaries don't stop at work. They show up at home too.
Something I shared on the podcast that felt surprisingly vulnerable was talking about the mental load. Before becoming a mom, I understood the concept intellectually. After becoming a mom, I experienced it firsthand. There are constantly a hundred little details floating around in your brain, and many of them are things nobody else can see.
One of my biggest triggers, genuinely, was being in the car on the way to church on a Sunday morning with a baby in the backseat and being asked what I wanted for groceries that week. It wasn't that Nick was doing anything wrong. It was that my brain was already carrying so much information that adding one more decision felt impossible in that moment. What I was really reacting to wasn't the question itself. It was the weight of being the default keeper of information.
So, like any good business owner, I built a system.
Every Monday, I use AI to generate a gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, chocolate-free meal plan for the week. I pull the grocery list, load everything into Instacart, send it to Nick, and move on. It sounds simple, but removing that recurring conversation has created so much more mental space. We no longer spend energy figuring out what's for dinner every day because the decision has already been made.
More importantly, it's opened the door for bigger conversations about ownership and expectations. Nick and I both do individual therapy and couples therapy, but even before that we've always been people who talk things through. Motherhood has simply given us more opportunities to practice. One lesson I've had to keep learning is that people can't respond to needs they don't know exist. If I'm overwhelmed and expecting someone else to magically notice, I'm setting both of us up for frustration. Boundaries require communication. They require clarity. And sometimes they require asking for help before you're already running on empty.
Staying in the maintain phase (and being okay with it)
One of the biggest mindset shifts I've had to make since becoming a mom is accepting that every season isn't meant for growth in the way we often define it.
For a long time, I measured success the same way many entrepreneurs do. Growth meant more. More clients. More revenue. More opportunities. More momentum. There was always another goal to chase and another milestone to reach.
But this season has challenged me to define success differently.
The truth is, I cannot be in "10x the business" mode while also showing up as the kind of mom I want to be. At least not right now. I've stopped fighting that reality and started accepting it. Instead of constantly trying to scale, I'm focused on maintaining. I'm serving my clients well. I'm showing up consistently. I'm keeping the business healthy. And for this season, that's enough.
What surprises me is that accepting this has actually brought me more peace than constantly striving for the next thing ever did.
Watching Grace experience the world has a way of pulling me back into the present moment. She notices things that I stopped paying attention to years ago. The feeling of grass between your fingers. The way leaves move in the wind. The excitement of tasting a strawberry for the first time. She reminds me daily that not everything valuable needs to be productive.
And maybe that's where this whole story comes full circle.
For years, I've talked about how my childhood shaped me. It shaped the boundaries I needed to learn, the healing I had to do, and the woman I eventually became. What I didn't expect was that motherhood would start reshaping the way I see my childhood, too.
Because while there are parts of my childhood that taught me what I never want to repeat, there are also parts that remind me of what we've all lost a little as adults. Wonder. Curiosity. Imagination. The belief that almost anything is possible.
It's ironic, really. So much of entrepreneurship and motherhood has required me to heal from my childhood, yet at the same time, it's reconnecting me with some of the best parts of it.
Somewhere between raising a daughter and running a business, those two worlds finally collided. And I'm beginning to realize that healing isn't always about leaving the past behind. Sometimes it's about returning to parts of yourself you forgot existed and seeing them through new eyes.
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