On unfinished projects, being a bad cook with a good recipe, and finally letting my life be unscripted.

Apparently, it took me 40 years to figure out how to be myself.

Which is impressive, considering I have been myself the entire time.

You would think I had a head start.

But somewhere between reality TV, motherhood, brand deals, and being told what a “perfect influencer” should look like, I started wondering whether the actual Rachel needed a little… editing.

Maybe she should post less of this. More of that. Pick a lane. Make everything look expensive. Be relatable, but not too relatable. Be authentic, but please make sure your authenticity matches the campaign.

And whatever you do, look like you have it all together.

Well. We already have a problem.

My Life Has Approximately 37 Open Tabs

I am professional. I work hard. I care about doing a good job.

I also have three projects going at any given moment, another idea forming while I’m working on those projects, and something half finished that I fully intend to return to.

Eventually.

There is mom life, wife life, work life, and the version of me who sees a new hobby and thinks, I could absolutely learn that.

Does my schedule support this confidence?

That feels like a separate conversation.

Half my life is under construction. Sometimes literally. There are things I’ve started, things I’m learning, things I need to finish, and things I apparently thought would take “a quick afternoon.”

I would like to meet the woman who estimated that afternoon. She owes me an explanation.

When everything is moving at once, it’s easy to end the day feeling like I haven’t accomplished anything. I can spend the entire day doing things and still focus on whatever remains unfinished.

The unfinished project is very loud. It does not care that I worked, showed up for my family, or learned something new. It’s sitting there like, So… are we doing this or what?

I’m learning to give myself credit for the work that happened, even when I don’t have a beautiful finished product to post.

I Like Trying Things. Apparently, This Is Confusing.

I love learning a new skill. I love being curious enough to try something before I know whether I’ll be good at it.

Sometimes that turns into a real passion. Sometimes it turns into a useful lesson.

Sometimes it turns into supplies I now own.

There is probably a little ADHD energy in my enthusiasm for starting things. There is also a lot of joy. I like discovering what I can do. I like surprising myself.

Could I focus more? Yes.

Could I reel in the number of things I’m attempting at once? Also yes. I’m working on it.

But I want to make room for that curiosity, too. Some of my favorite experiences began with me saying yes before I had the whole thing figured out.

And even when it goes terribly, I usually leave with something interesting to talk about.

At the very least, we have material.

The Perfect Influencer Was Exhausting

For a long time, I worried that being too much of myself would cost me work.

If I posted the wrong thing, would a brand decide I wasn’t the right fit? If my life looked messy, would people think I wasn’t serious? If I showed too many interests, would everyone get confused?

I was told I needed to look like a celebrity. My content needed to be polished and curated. People needed to understand immediately who I was and what I stood for.

Recently, a manager told me I needed to pick one thing to post about. One clear box. Otherwise, people wouldn’t understand what I was doing.

I understand the business advice. If someone comes to my page, I want them to know why they’re there. If a brand hires me, I want to deliver what we agreed on.

But I started hearing that advice everywhere—even when I was simply sharing my own life.

I would have an idea, get excited, and then hesitate.

Does this fit? Is this what I’m supposed to post? Does this look enough like the person they want me to be?

It’s exhausting to turn your own personality into a constant approval process.

Especially when the person waiting for approval is the same person who has been showing up and doing the work for years.

I Can Be a Bad Cook With a Good Recipe, and it doesn’t have to on brand for what I want to make!

Here is what I finally realized:

I can post about cooking and still be a bad cook with a good recipe.

If it tastes good, I’m sharing it. If it goes wrong, there is a decent chance I’m sharing that, too.

I can post about my dog without starting a dog account. Angel has not requested a separate brand strategy.

I can talk about travel, marriage, motherhood, fashion, work, and whatever new thing I’m trying. Those things are happening in my life. Of course they’re going to show up.

My job matters to me. I want to be good at it. I have ambitions I’m still chasing.

But when work ends, I’m still a person with a family, a sense of humor, a pile of ideas, and interests that don’t always come with a deliverable.

I want to leave room for her.

She’s fun.

She also occasionally needs help finding the supplies she bought for her last great idea.

Life Doesn’t Come With a Script

After all these years in reality TV, you would think I’d be comfortable with uncertainty.

I’m getting there.

I’ve gone for things that worked out better than I could have imagined. I’ve also fallen on my face and had to figure out how to get back up.

Sometimes with an audience.

Very character building. Would occasionally prefer less character.

There are moments when I wish someone would hand me a script and say, “Here is what happens next. Here is the right choice. Here is the part where everything makes sense.”

But some of the best parts of my life happened because I tried something without knowing the ending.

I want more of that. More willingness to go for it. More permission to be a beginner. More trust that I can learn as I go.

And yes, probably a little more follow-through on the three projects already in progress.

Growth can include a calendar.

Forty Years Later, Here I Am

I don’t regret the years it took me to get here. I learned a lot. I met people, took chances, made mistakes, and kept going.

But I do wish I could tell the younger version of me how much time she would spend worrying about whether she was being the “right” version of Rachel.

I’d tell her to listen to useful advice. Keep learning. Take her work seriously. Finish what she promises.

Then I’d tell her she is allowed to have a personality outside of what someone wants to hire.

Some people will like her. Some people will prefer a different version. She can survive that.

I’m still growing and evolving. There are things I want to improve, habits I want to change, and dreams I haven’t finished chasing.

I’m also finally comfortable admitting that the woman doing all of it is going to be a little messy.

She’s going to try things. She’s going to laugh. She’s going to have days when she feels accomplished and days when she wonders where the entire afternoon went.

She might share a recipe. She might share a life lesson. She might show you a project that is still, somehow, in progress.

That woman is Rachel.

It took me 40 years to stop treating her like a draft that needed everyone else’s approval.

I think I’m ready to let her live a little.

What have you been waiting to try—or share—because you’re worried it doesn’t fit the version of you people expect? Tell me. I’d love to know what else we’ve all been keeping in the drafts.