Unraveling, with Brooke Baldwin

Dearest Unravelers and Unravelers-to-be – 

Oh my goodness, it feels so good to be home. I missed you. 💌

The reason you didn’t hear from me last Sunday was because my electronics were (blissfully) confiscated. That’s right. No phone. No laptop. No wifi. Thank you sweet baby Jesus. The idea of allowing for that in my previous life would have made me break out in hives. But lately, I’m like: “take it all.” Let me explain.

I’ve written to you — in one of my most vulnerable newsletters (read it here) — about this place called the Hoffman Institute. The tagline is: “when you’re serious about change.” I’ll admit, I’ve heard some people — who have never been but hear about it — snap-judge Hoffman as a little “cult-y.” And what does “serious about change” really actually mean? My change? Someone else’s change? Change I’ll resist? Change that some stranger is going to tell me I need? Yeahhhhh. I don’t know about that.

But. BUT. About three years ago, I trusted two dear friends — neither of whom knew each other — in the span of a week to randomly (or not, funny how that works) tell me I should consider going to this place for a week. I listened. I was in pain in so many ways. My life felt disjointed. I didn’t feel whole or worthy or what-was-happening-with-my marriage, etc. So I kind of blindly went. What did I have to lose?

Here’s the headline: IT CHANGED MY FREAKING LIFE. 🌈

More accurately: I CHANGED MY LIFE because of what I learned there.

(Listen here 🎧 for me on a podcast where I talk in detail about that experience.)

By the way, as I discovered firsthand, that “serious change” they were referring to is not ooooh-fun-I-can’t-wait change. It isn’t even if-I-hold-my-nose-for-five-seconds-it’s-over change. I found it led to the most prolonged-excruciating-when-it-rains-it-pours-when-does-this-fucking-end change of my life. (Gee, I’m really selling this place, aren’t I? By the way, I’m not on Hoffman’s dime. I just believe in sharing good things with good people.) But on the other side of said prolonged-excruciating-when-it-rains-it-pours-when-does-this-fucking-end change — was the sweetest, most light-filled feeling of my nearly 44 years on this planet: FREEDOM. And not just freedom. Also: Integrity. Abundance. And living in the light. (“I am light… I am light.” Thank you

India Arie

.)

Given the way the world is swirling right now (turn on the news for five minutes and it’s on blast), I’m all about my own agency — figuring out how to show up as the best version of myself for myself, my partner, my family, my community and ultimately, you. Especially in these times, you deserve full throttle authenticity. And thanks to my Unraveling, that’s exactly what you get.

If you’re even remotely curious about how, too, to achieve this — keep reading.

So Peter and I went back to Hoffman — only this time, we attended the 3-day Couples Retreat. I could tell you Peter and I went in feeling ooey-gooey-delicious and unicorns and rainbows and we’re just THE cutest blah blah blah.

OR I could tell you the truth.

Y’all, we showed up to this couple’s retreat last weekend — in a really rare moment — kind of not the cutest. The week leading up to this thing for us was a Doozy — capital D. It happens. We’re human. I’ll own this one. I’d done a really BIG, exciting thing the week before, but then I flew home and without really taking a beat, I sprinted right into an emotionally draining schedule including my very first colonoscopy. **RECORD SCRATCH** I’ll spare you the details, but let me just set one scene: I’m on my bathroom floor early one evening, in anticipation of what’s to come (with my body), feeling exposed in a multitude of ways (not because of my body), and for reasons I couldn’t entirely articulate in the moment, I start to weep.

There I am. In my sweats. 5pm. Tears. Laid out on my bathroom tile. Peter’s about to head to dinner. And I just suddenly feel like a freaking loser. This is so not how I normally feel or talk to myself. And yet. It was a very real, unfiltered BB moment. So what does my man do? Peter, who honest-to-God thinks he’s being helpful, is looking all handsome and dressed and towering over me essentially spoon feeding me my colonoscopy drugs — twelve freaking pills in total — to get the party started, so to speak. I was starting to get scared, not having a clue what to expect and about to be home alone. And then… AND THEN… Peter with his big Red Wing boots literally steps over me on the bathroom floor and leaves me and my loser tears.

(Spoiler alert: I needed him instead to get on the damn floor which he’s done in the past and hold me and tell me I was going to be okay. BUT I didn’t speak up. I tried to be cool. Fail. Breaking news: our partners cannot read our minds.)

Cut to three days later we’re on our way to this Couples Retreat in Northern California feeling, well, not very couple-y.

You wanna know what REALLY happened? Scroll down or subscribe (hit the button below). I’m including two deeply personal videos from me to you below.