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This is for anyone who is ready to earn more and feel better.

I broke my New Year's resolution on January 1st.

Not January 15th, when most resolutions supposedly die. Not even January 2nd, which would have at least given me bragging rights for completing a single day.

Day One. The very first day of my "hardcore novel-writing plan." The word count I'd committed to? Didn't happen. I did other work instead—work that was already overdue from yesterday—which meant everything started cascading backward like dominoes, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and whisper fuck it into the void.

If you've ever set a strict diet and then broken it spectacularly—bingeing your face off, literally feeding guilt with more guilt, adding a stomachache as a form of self-punishment—you know this feeling. That was me for years. The restriction, the failure, the spiral, the shame. Rinse, repeat, hate yourself.

But here's the thing: I'm not that person anymore. Not because I've achieved some enlightened state of perfect discipline, but because I've learned to interrupt the spiral. And when I felt it starting on January 1st, I had a choice.

I chose differently.

What I did instead:

1. I recognized the voice—but remembered it's not the only voice.
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   ​The part of me screaming "YOU ALREADY RUINED IT" is loud. Crushing, even. But it's a part. Not the whole. So instead of letting that voice run the show, I got curious: What other parts of me have opinions about this situation?
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   Turns out, there's a part that's exhausted from the holidays. A part that knows my son had a rough night. A part that's genuinely proud I showed up for client work. A part that understands life is not a spreadsheet.
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2. I asked the loud part what it actually wants.
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   ​This is crucial. That guilt-ridden, self-flagellating part of me isn't trying to destroy me. It has a positive intention—it wants me to be professionally fulfilled, financially stable, able to provide for my family. Its method (shame and punishment) is terrible. But its goal is actually aligned with what I want.
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   Once I named the goal, I could ask a better question: What's another way to get there that doesn't involve self-destruction?
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3. I fast-forwarded to bedtime.
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   ​This is my favorite reframe. I asked myself: Tonight, when I'm lying in bed reflecting on my day, what would make me feel proud—given that the morning is already gone?
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   ​Not proud in a hustle-culture, "I clawed it back with superhuman effort" way. Not proud in a "I gave up and watched Netflix guilt-free" way. But a real proud. A compromise between indulging the inner critic and abandoning ship entirely.
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4. I mapped my options and checked them against my body.
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   ​Here's what I came up with: finish my overdue email pipeline (necessary), post a simple static carousel instead of skipping social entirely (compromise, not perfection), and write something on the novel tonight—even if it's not the word count, maybe just a voice memo fleshing out the first chapter.
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   And then I did something radical: I asked my body which option felt right. Not my head. My body. The one that was telling me I desperately needed a nap.
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5. I planned around my obstacles. ​
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   I know myself. I'm incredibly tempted to nap through the afternoon and wake up hating myself more. So instead of waiting until I was "at my desk and focused" to pick which carousel to post, I opened Canva immediately—while I still had a sliver of momentum—and chose one.
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   It's not about willpower. It's about making the next right thing easy.

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Here's what I realized:

Missing my goal on Day One wasn't a disaster. It was the exact learning curve I needed.

Because the skill I'm actually trying to build isn't "follow the plan perfectly." It's "get back on the horse." And you can only build that skill by falling off.

This is why traditional goal-setting fails us. SMART goals are too logical, too rational—and we're not rational beings. We're emotional beings. Goals don't fall apart because of bad planning. They fall apart because our emotions get in the way of follow-through.

So if you've already "failed" at your resolution, I want you to try this:

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I created something called the DIME Method—it stands for Desire, Impact, Metric, and Energy—because I got tired of setting goals that looked good on paper and then watching them crumble the first time life got in the way.

DIME helps you build goals around how you want to feel, not just what you want to achieve. It accounts for your actual capacity. And it has built-in flexibility for moments exactly like the one I had on January 1st.
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The goal isn't perfection. The goal is a system—and a self—that can absorb the inevitable curveballs without crumbling.

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Now go get paid.

x Claire

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​PS Loved this newsletter? Pay it forward by sharing it with someone who could benefit 🤗

I work with women who want more out of their career, and their life.

I have the capacity to take on a few more clients in January. These are the situations I specialize in (any sound familiar?):
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• The Golden Handcuffs Client: Well-compensated but soul-starved. You want meaningful work but can't afford to sacrifice financial security—especially with a family depending on you. The thought of starting over feels paralyzing.
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• The Ambitious Achiever Who Hit a Wall: You do everything "right"—stellar performance, great relationships, impressive results—but you're not advancing as expected. You get to final rounds but don't close the deal, and you can't figure out why.
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• The Brave Leaper in Analysis Paralysis: You're already mid-transition but frozen by overthinking. You have courage but lack clarity, strategy, or confidence. Every option feels like it could be the "wrong" choice.
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• The Expert Stuck in Your Expertise: You have deep knowledge and experience but struggle to translate it into something marketable. You're caught between your established identity and who you're becoming.

If any of these resonate, you're at a critical inflection point that requires both strategic clarity AND the internal tools to execute with confidence. I'd be honored to guide you.

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Why Choose Me

Most coaches give you either strategy OR mindset work. I seamlessly weave together:

1. Practical next steps with the internal alignment work needed to execute them
2. Strategic roadmapping with tools to manage your present so you have bandwidth for your future
3. Market positioning with the confidence to own your worth and negotiate from strength

I don't push you to quit your job tomorrow or take dramatic leaps. Instead, I help you see your current paycheck as "a venture capitalist funding your transition" so you can shift to a more empowered position.
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I provide gentle support when you're struggling with fear and self-doubt—and firm accountability when you're making excuses or avoiding necessary action. I won't let you stay stuck in planning mode or let perfectionism sabotage your progress.

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The Real Reason My Coaching Works

Here's what I've learned after working with thousands of women: When you say you want a "career change," what you really need is alignment between who you've become and how you show up professionally.

The surface problem is job dissatisfaction. The real problem is identity evolution.

I've lived through the messy, complicated reality of major life transitions. I know what it feels like to be successful on paper but lost inside. I understand the fear of making the "wrong" choice when everything feels high-stakes.

My approach is to turn my life inside out—taking what I've learned (mostly through struggle) and breaking it down in a way that's accessible and actionable for you.
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