It was the dead of winter in February of 2023. I was leaving my house at 5:30am for work, shitty Keurig coffee and shaken up protein powder + water in hand, when I stepped in a small puddle on my way out the door. “This is my 13th reason…”
One small puddle… my entire foot went freezing and I didn’t have warm toes until hours later. I’d already been in a weird place mentally. I wasn’t vibing with where I was at, I knew I needed a change, and a cold foot at 5:30am is what finally sent me over the edge. Since it wasn’t reasonable to act on my emotions at that hour, I waited until proper blood circulation reached my toes and my braincells before I told my boss, “I’m ready for something new. Anywhere in the south. I do not care.”
I tell you this first because it was the calmest decision I’ve ever made, and it happened during the loudest and most chaotic time in my life. My brain is loud. It always has been (shoutout ADHD). I’ve come to recognize the few places it goes quiet, and what I’ve learned from listening when it does.
Hi! I’m Syd, and I write The Honest Optimist. If you just found me, welcome. Let me back up.
I grew up where most people now fantasize about living out their Hallmark dreams. In small town, Louisburg, Kansas, USA, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Multiple generations of families who all know each other. Mixes of “in town” neighborhoods and wide open spaces. A community who rallies around their people, and has so much pride in where they’re from.
I’m the second of four kids, two sisters and a brother, and have two parents who are just the BEST. Our childhood was second to none. We had a dad who built us a treehouse over several weeks while we were at school or asleep. The backyard was whatever we said it was that day. An obstacle course that ended in a 40-yard sprint to the hose. A restaurant. Some weeks one of us would plan family dinner, type the menu out, print it, and shop for every ingredient with Mom.
We grew up in the same town as both sides of my family, so it was cousins GALORE. My sisters, our cousin Maddie, and I put on living-room concerts that we could’ve sworn were taking place in front of 20,000 people. Our moms and grandma sat through every. single. one. (The Best Days I Have No Pictures Of). Last spring, we found that same joy again in Sonoma… and I learned I’m not near as flexible as I once was. Nonetheless, growing up the way we did instilled a joy in me that I have to purposely call on every now and then. It also laid the foundation for what I expect out of this life (The Return of the Living Room Dance Floor).
Like I said, my brain is in 5th gear, pushing me to my limits, with background music from the moment I’m awake until I say my prayers at night. Ever since I learned to read and write I loved doing both. What do you MEAN I can talk out loud AND on paper?! BET.
I remember vividly, in 2nd grade, my teacher picked out my paper as the example for the whole class on how to do creative writing properly. Looking back on it, this probably felt substantial because I was usually getting in trouble for running my mouth, not being praised by the teacher in front of the class. You couldn’t tell me shit after that (and I continued to get in trouble).
Some of the chaos in my life has always been self-made. It’s also always felt like something I could handle.
Volleyball and basketball were the first things I set my mind to and put real reps into. I ended up choosing volleyball as my main sport and trained year round from the age of 12. By college, the schedule, the structure, and the routine had my body feeling the best it ever had.
That was until I continued to play through an injury that kept getting worse until I couldn’t anymore. In the last game I ever played, I subbed myself out and never went back in. I took my kneepad off on the bench and it swelled up.
“Go rehab it for a few days, keep taking 1500mg of an anti-inflammatory, and get back out there.” That was my own chaotic voice.
Swelling wasn’t unusual for me. The pain this time was not normal. I had surgery after that and I was done.
I was devastated, because I knew that was it. Relief came too, since I was no longer in agony every day I played. The loss was bigger: my identity as an athlete, and a sport I had loved my entire life. Calm does not always feel good. Sometimes it is just knowing, even when you aren’t ready.
A couple years without a schedule someone else wrote for me, getting into the real world, and finding a sense of belonging outside of sports? YA RIGHT. I was lost. I was in Kansas City, making $30,000/year, the most out of shape I had ever been, and I was looking for purpose anywhere I could feel it (I’m Finally Back in My College Body).
At 23 I made a job pivot into what is my career now. This pivot came with a whopping $10k pay increase (that’s $40k/year if you’re bad at math) and a sense of direction. I was still attempting to find purpose everywhere else, but at LEAST it seemed like I had a career ahead of me. While that has proven to be true, it hasn’t been without a battle. That change at 23 evolved into me selling to world-class surgeons, and every day felt like a test I hadn’t studied for. I was a young woman in rooms full of people who had been doing this longer than I’d been alive (The Enemy Loves Beginners). Working through this imposter syndrome has been a recent accomplishment that I still build on. It’s allowed me to be in my current job that I love, making a great living, and YES it’s corporate. Don’t sue me for that, Substackers!
SQUIRREL!!! Ok back to the puddle…
After I told my boss I was ready for the next steps, I interviewed for positions in El Paso, Atlanta, Orlando and Boca Raton. I never had a longing to live in another place like some people do. I knew that I didn’t want to be living in Kansas, but when your home base is in the middle of the country, you really have unlimited options. My boss was so helpful, connected me with the people who had openings, and I took it from there. Some of the hiring managers pushed me toward Boca. My soul was already leaning that way.
Before you say, “well no shit, Syd. You’re comparing Boca with El Paso.” I understand THAT… but my soul really was already leaning that way, toward a place where I’d never vacationed and didn’t know a single person. The dreams of Florida living came at night in my subconscious, not in a daydream.
The decision itself didn’t feel stressful. Hindsight, that was the clue that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
All I took with me was what fit in my car. My job gave me an “atta girl” and a high-five to get moved in, so all I could afford at the time was a 1-bed 1-bathroom that I shared with Kate, my roommate from Kansas City, who decided to come too. Over the next few years Madeleine and Alexa, along with her family, all followed, which means I accidentally ran the best MLM ever (Everyone Moved to Florida). The imposter feeling came with me and got louder before it got quieter.
Listening to my soul doesn’t always come from calm moments. Some of it is loud. Ironically, I’ve come to trust the calm in the middle of my storms when, objectively, it should be making me run for the hills. I feel this calm when I’m scared or sad or not ready. When that happens I take it as a sign that I’m where my soul is trying to take me. Up to now it’s led me to some fantastic places once the dust settled. From my experience so far, God sometimes leads us into this calm even when we dont feel ready for it.
Dylan is another calm place <3
We were friends for 15 years before we got together. He’s the most patient man in the history of the world. Well… besides Job.
When we weren’t together (in proximity), I felt that void everyone speaks of. I thought it was due to us being close friends for as long as we had been. We’d go months without as much as sending non-PC memes back and forth or a quick FT to check up on each other. This void was different, deeper. When we’re together I can think clearly, my heart rate returns to a normal BPM, and the background music finally goes mute. If I’m figuring out what I need from the grocery store, I have one single train of thought. NO WAY this is how people normally think btw.
When he’s not around my mind goes back to thinking 17 thoughts at once…
I prayed longer than I’d care to admit to be prepared for my husband, and at some point I quit asking altogether. The answer turned out to be a friend I’d had for years, someone I missed because I was busy scanning the horizon for a stranger (What Faith Looks Like When It’s Not Pretty). We’re engaged now. I was certain I’d be married with two kids by this point, and I thank God every day that it didn’t happen on that timeline (What Changed in My 20s).
The last place my brain goes quiet is writing.
In October 2025 I started this publication, which I wrote about in The Genesis. I wrote a lot for a couple of months and then disappeared. I would open a draft, decide it was bad, and close the laptop. Anything I started went to my Notion graveyard. After I turned 29, I decided to stop missing my own life (The One Where I Lived Forward). In June I rewrote my comeback opener twelve times before admitting the real reason I was back: I missed it (The One Where I Start Again).
The Honest Optimist isn’t some grand publication (yet) or necessarily somewhere people go for the latest tips and tricks on (insert wellness, financial, fitness, or business hack here).
Nonetheless, keeping the promise to myself to write felt good, and why I keep writing to all 75 of you. In real life I say the first thing that comes to my mind. Saying it in writing, for strangers to read, was a different hurdle. Now that I’m past it, y’all better watch out, because I don’t give a DAMN. In the best way, of course.
The chaos never quits.
I’ve come to realize this is where I thrive. I don’t necessarily love the chaos itself. If I’m going to choose any kind of thrill to make me feel alive, I want it to be the one where I’m doing everything I love. My current favorite self-inflicted chaos: travel.
In one stretch this year I went to Wyoming to hike, Cabo for a bachelorette with some of my most unhinged friends, then to Key West two weeks later, then on a lake trip a week after that. Not to mention I was traveling for work during the week, started up a side project that I’m not ready to all the way share, and started planning our wedding well before we were engaged. Throw in workouts, attempting to stay on plan, and some slight redecorating of my room… On top of that, I’m learning how to mourn my 20s and everything I have to leave behind with them. Some things are meant to seep into our 30s, and I’m in the middle of figuring that out now. My chaos is self-inflicted sometimes, and it always feels like something I can handle, even when the stress of being in the thick of it gets to me.
Where does that leave us? If you stick around, it’s only going to get more raw, unhinged, and chaotic. Reporting to you live in the middle of the chaos and giving you the 60 Minutes version once I know what the hell is going on. Regardless, I know I’m not in this alone and we’ll figure it out together along the way.
Your turn: where does your brain go quiet? Hit reply and tell me. I read everything.
♡ Syd