There's magic in the mess

lessons from a Best-Teller

First off, thank you. Truly.

For the outpouring of love, the messages, the comments, the DMs. For sharing your own stories of disappointment and not-quite-yet dreams. Whether it was about a book, a job, a breakup, or a version of life you really thought was going to happen... I see you. I hear you. I feel you.

And like any time I’ve shared vulnerably, I feel less alone. Maybe even a little more in purpose because of the pain.

I wasn’t sure if I should say anything at all. But now I’m so glad I did. Because it reminded me, this is why I do what I do. Not so everything can go perfect, but so I can tell the truth when it doesn’t.

If I had kept that disappointment to myself, it would’ve just sat there, heavy and shameful. Because I let it out, it became something better. It became meaningful.

So many of you reminded me of my grit. Of the version of me that started at Tasty, spending two weeks testing one recipe, trying to get it right. Of the days I wanted to quit. The many, many times I cried over a kitchen fail, then wiped my eyes, washed another dish, and tried again.

That girl was onto something.

It was never just about the food. Or the recipes. Or the jokes (though the jokes were good).

It was about my fire.
My willingness to keep going.
To mess up. To look silly. To be real.

To fall in love with something enough to fail at it publicly until it finally worked.

And that hasn’t changed.

The stakes are just higher now. I am older. The dreams are louder. The goals are bigger.

But so is the trust.

I know the dreams that don’t come true are just making space for the ones that will.

Because here’s what I’ve learned while I’ve quietly explored this heartbreak over the past couple of months…

Disappointment is not the end of the story, it’s just the messy middle.

Most of the best things in my life came after a “no.” Not right away. But eventually. In fact, they probably feel even more grand and magical BECAUSE of the no’s. The chapter where things fall short is not a failure. That’s groundwork.

Your focus is your frequency.

If I’m fixated on the one seed that didn’t sprout, I miss the wild, beautiful garden growing all around me. My job is to keep watering.

Your worth is not your wins.

You are not your launch numbers. Not your job title. Not the thing that didn’t work out. You are your effort. Your courage. Your honesty. Your belief.

Keep betting on yourself, especially when you’re down.

When the stock market dips, you don’t panic and pull out…you invest more.
That’s when you get the biggest returns. Same goes for you. Double down on belief. Buy into your future, especially when the numbers don’t look promising yet.

As I wrote in my book and on the custom totes I handed out on my book tour…

THERE’S MAGIC IN THE MESS.

The sticky stuff is where you learn. It’s how we widen and stretch and deepen and expand to grow. Don’t rush to package it all up and pretend it’s fine. Let it be messy. Let it be real. That’s what connects us. That’s what turns pain into purpose.

The last thing I’ll share is something one of you brilliant souls messaged me that honestly shook me to my core.

“What if you’re not a bestseller… but a best-teller?”

Chills.

We are so obsessed with selling everything. The books. The products. The image. Especially in this career I’ve found myself in, where success is literally measured in clicks, likes, lists, and conversions.

But what if it’s not about what you sell?
What if it’s about what you say?

The stories.
The meaning.
The mess and the magic of being human and trying again.

I may not be a bestseller (yet),
but I am a bestteller.

And that?
That’s the title I care most about.

With love & every color under the rainbow,

Alix