It’s taken me five years to finally say this out loud: I am my brand. Wherever I go, Milwaukee Movement goes with me.

For the longest time, I tried so hard to keep my business separate from my personal life—like I could neatly pack it into a box during the day and put it away at night. I even wrote all of my website and brand copy in plural (“we” instead of “I”) because it felt too scary to take ownership of. There was no team behind the curtain—it was just me. But owning that felt too vulnerable. Too risky. What if I failed? What if people rejected me? What if I wasn’t enough?

So instead, I’d defensively say, “Milwaukee Movement is what I do, not who I am.” I thought that was the “safe” thing to say. But if I’m being honest, I never fully believed it.

Because when I was in business mode, I often felt like too much. My brain never shut off. I was constantly thinking in quarters, weeks, next steps, next connections (which still happens, but not as often). And outside of work? I didn’t always know how to bring that version of me into social settings. I wanted to blend in, be “normal,” be liked. So I’d stay quiet. I wouldn’t talk about my work much, especially when I’d get that blank, deer-in-the-headlights look across the table. A part of me always thought, “Maybe if I just had a normal job, this would all feel easier”.

But here’s what I’ve learned after a lot of spiraling, therapy, prayer, running, and early morning journaling: the Lord made me and called me to be both. Both Rhianna and the owner of Milwaukee Movement. Both a girl who loves gardening and laughing with friends, and someone who dreams about the next step in her business. He put this fire in me for athletic training and entrepreneurship. He gave me the courage to think big and ask the hard questions.

And He’s also given me the responsibility to steward Milwaukee Movement well—not just when I’m in the office, but in every space I walk into. Even if it feels like too much sometimes.

Five years in, I finally feel peace with that. This is the life I’ve been called to live. It’s not “normal,” but it’s mine. I get to be both, and I am grateful for it.