I'm going to be brutally honest with you about something that nearly destroyed my confidence as an athlete and entrepreneur.
When I first started competing on American Ninja Warrior, I would watch the top female athletes demolish every obstacle like it was child's play. Meanwhile, I was struggling, grinding, and questioning if I was even built for this. The same thing happened in gymnastics – I was never the girl who got skills on the first try. I had to break down every single movement and drill it until my body finally understood.
But here's what really hit me: I lost before I won. I had to become the person who was ready to win.
And honestly? Building my business has been even harder than any athletic challenge I've ever faced. There have been launches where I've crushed it, and launches where I've gotten my ass completely kicked. And you know what I'd do? I'd look around at other entrepreneurs who seemed to have it all figured out and wonder what the hell I was doing wrong.
...I'll never forget the sound.
That pop. That sickening, career-ending pop that echoed through the American Ninja Warrior course as my ACL tore on national television. One second I was flying through the air, unstoppable and invincible. The next, I was crumpled on the ground, staring at the ceiling lights while cameras captured every moment of what felt like my dreams dying.
But here's the thing about rock bottom—it gives you a solid foundation to build on.
Lying there in that moment, I had two choices. I could let this injury define me as the girl who got hurt on TV, or I could become something else entirely. I could be the first person I knew to come back stronger than before.
I chose to be the first.
Being first isn't about winning some competition or beating other people to the finish line. It's about being the first person in your own mind to believe something impossible is actually possible.
It's being the first in your family to star...
A few weeks ago, multiple women approached me saying the same thing: "Angela, you look different. You look... lighter." They weren't talking about my physical appearance—they were sensing something deeper. A shift in my energy. A weight I was no longer carrying.
They were right. I had been suffocating myself with the pressure to make everything happen exactly as I envisioned it.
I was launching something in my business, and I wanted it to succeed so badly. I was clinging to this idea that if I just pushed harder, forced it to happen, it would magically fall into place. But the more I forced, the more resistance I created. It felt heavy, frustrating, and honestly, it was sucking the joy out of what I was doing.
Then I made a decision that changed everything: I released my death grip on the outcome.
I started asking myself different questions:
There I was, lying on the gym floor with a bloody lip, looking up at my coach Cheryl who had just caught me red-handed. "Did you just try it?" she asked, and I straight up lied. "Nope," I said, as if my bloody lip wasn't a dead giveaway that I had absolutely just attempted that back handspring she specifically told me not to try alone.
That was me in a nutshell – a fearless, persistent, obsessed-with-getting-it-right daredevil who wanted to be the best immediately. I looked at the higher level gymnasts and knew deep inside that I could do what they were doing. The problem? I wanted it all right now.
But then I met Coach Miguel, and everything changed. He looked at me one day and said, "Angela, you're going to be a star." And you know what? I believed him. He gave me confidence I didn't even know I was missing and made me feel like I belonged on that higher level team.
When I told him I wanted to learn a Tsukahara vault – a big, intimidating round-off into a backflip – I expected ...
A few days ago, I literally trapped myself in my room. I had my computer, barely ate, refused to leave the house, and obsessed over trying to articulate exactly what I do and the transformations I provide. I wanted the perfect words, the perfect message, and I wanted it NOW.
The result? Nothing. No clarity, no breakthrough. Just frustration and burnout.
Then something shifted. I decided to give it some space. And that made all the difference.
We live in a culture of go, go, go. When something isn't working, our default is to try harder. We'll stare at the screen longer, beat ourselves up for not having answers yet, and tell ourselves we can't take a break until we have it all figured out.
But here's the truth: your brain doesn't work like that.
When you force something, you activate your brain's stress response, making it harder to access creativity, problem-solving, and intuition. There's a reason why your best ideas come in the shower, on wal...
Have you ever caught yourself complaining about the same things over and over again? Your job, your fitness routine, your relationships, your overall happiness? I've been there too, and recently I had a friend call me out in the most loving way possible.
We were at a business workshop, and I was describing my dream life when she stopped me and said, "Angela, you're not doing anything that actually reflects that happening." Ouch. But she was absolutely right.
Here's what I've realized: what you aren't changing, you are choosing.
I know that might sting a little, but hear me out. Our brains and bodies love comfort. Even when something isn't working for us, we stay there because it's familiar. That toxic relationship? Familiar. That job you hate? Familiar. Your brain isn't working against you – it's trying to keep you safe, and change feels scary because it's unknown.
But here's the thing: just because something is comfortable doesn't mean it's a...
I've been thinking a lot lately about why we're so conditioned to ask "What if it all goes wrong?" instead of "What if it all goes right?" It's something that's been weighing on my mind, especially as I navigate my own life transitions.
Here's the thing: our brains are literally wired to focus on the negative. It's not your fault, and it's not mine either. This negativity bias dates back to our ancestors who needed to stay hyper-alert to survive. Back then, missing a threat could mean death. Today, while we're not running from saber-toothed tigers, our brains are still scanning for danger by default.
Research shows that negative events have a much greater impact on our brains than positive ones. In fact, it takes about three to five positive experiences just to outweigh the emotional impact of one negative experience. Our amygdala—the fear center of our brain—is more active when processing negative stimuli, which means we're hardwired to rem
...Have you ever found yourself in that weird space where you're questioning everything? I've been there recently, and honestly, it's been tough to navigate. I love what I do, but lately, I've felt pretty disconnected from it all. And when I don't feel that spark, it becomes really hard to show up authentically.
The big question that's been weighing on me is: How do you know if you're just burnt out or if you've completely lost passion for what you're doing?
We've all been in those moments where we think, "What am I even doing? Do I just need to stop everything?" Our brains tend to spiral into that all-or-nothing thinking – maybe I'm done, maybe this totally isn't for me anymore.
But here's what I learned from a recent conversation with Dr. Melanie that completely shifted my perspective: when we're in the thick of it, our minds aren't always clear. We need to pause, reflect, and get curious before making any major decisions.
Instead of making impulsive...
I had a conversation with a friend recently that stopped me in my tracks. We were talking about how we're all constantly in a hurry—wanting everything to happen now, or even yesterday. She said something that hit me like a ton of bricks: "If you're living in the future, you're living in anxiety. If you're living in the past, you're living in depression."
That quote (which I'm pretty sure is from Brianna Wiest) made me realize I've been living in a constant state of rush lately. As I'm shifting gears with my business, my podcast, and my mission to help more women achieve their first pull-up, I've been so focused on the destination that I'm missing the beauty of the journey.
For high performers like myself, the rush usually comes down to a few things:
I used to think resilience was some kind of superhero quality—something you either had or you didn't. But here's what I've learned after falling forward more times than I can count: resilience isn't magic, and it's definitely not glamorous.
It's a skill. A practice. And it's built on what I call radical adaptability—the ability to bend without breaking, to adapt when life throws you curveballs, and to keep moving forward even when everything feels stuck.
Let me be real with you for a moment. I'm recording this while feeling incredibly stuck myself. I'm in the middle of a major transition, moving from fitness-focused work to something bigger, and honestly? It's uncomfortable as hell.
But here's the thing about resilience that no one talks about: it's not about rising from the ashes in some dramatic movie moment. Most of the time, it's quiet, messy, and small. It's choosing to take one step forward when you feel paralyzed. It's washing your f...