July 12, 2025
I recently walked onto the stage at the LA Comedy Club. Not to roast anyone. Not to deliver a stand-up set. But to learn and grow.
Let’s face it—life can be brutal. Especially for high-achievers, leaders, and women navigating workplaces that say they value confidence, but punish you for having too much of it.
It’s why I wrote Assured. Because being “serious” all the time doesn’t make us stronger—it just makes us tired.
So today, I want to introduce something different: The L.A.U.G.H. Shift.
It’s a mindset reset.
It’s a new operating system.
It’s the permission you’ve been waiting for to lighten your grip and still hold your ground.
Here’s how it works:
Jealousy. Sabotage. Gossip. You don’t have to carry it all. In Assured, I share real-life stories where I had to release resentment in order to reclaim my peace. Letting go isn’t weakness—it’s strategy.
You are allowed to smile during the mess. To dance in your kitchen. To giggle on a Zoom call. Chapter 4 in my book reminds us that joy doesn’t mean you’re not serious—it means you’re still standing.
You do not need to perform for approval. Not at work. Not in life. You are allowed to be real, even if that means showing cracks. That’s what makes you magnetic. Let the flaws in. Let the stress out.
Toxic behavior doesn’t deserve a thoughtful analysis. Call it what it is: nonsense. And when you do, it loses power. That’s what Chapter 7 is all about—naming the envy, dismissing the drama, and keeping your energy sacred.
Not just your calendar. Not just your to-do list. Yourself. Your dreams. Your decompression. Your laughter. Your right to say, “Not today.” You are worth your own attention.
Because being hardened by the world isn’t the same as being prepared for it.
Because exhaustion is not a badge of honor.
And because when you laugh—not to mask pain, but to reclaim lightness—you remember who you are.
When I stepped off that stage in LA, someone said, “Laughing feels good.” I smiled and told her, “That’s the shift.” The powerful truth that healing doesn’t always look like hard work—it sometimes looks like laughter.