A new piece of writing every Monday. Ongoing conversations.
If you’re a woman who is ready to feel more sensationally alive inside the life you already have, then darling, get JUICY!
Imagine feeling
again...
but not in a twenty-five-year-old kind of way.
Because frankly, darling, you have already spent quite enough time working to become a person you could hopefully, maybe, one day enjoy. You’ve improved yourself. Observed yourself. Healed yourself. Supplemented yourself. Tracked yourself. Optimised your sleep, your hormones, your nervous system, your gut, your trauma, your habits and, on at least one particularly ambitious Tuesday, probably your fucking mitochondria.
And still…
Here you are.
Still here. Still wanting. Still wondering if there might be more.
Not necessarily a different life. Just more of you inside the one you’ve already got. More feeling. More presence. More pleasure. More yum. More yes. More no. More you.
A little radiance. A little ravished. More audacious laughter and more space for awe.
That’s it.
Awe. Awe-struck. And wonder-drunk.
A little more of the you who knows that something wild awaits. Who sees little altars everywhere. Who finds beauty in the ordinary, gifts in the grief, and meaning in the mystery. Who doesn’t need life to be perfect to love it fiercely. Who is willing to live all the way alive; with tenderness, wonder and whole-hearted devotion.
And then you realise…
Oh. There I am.
Not a new personality. Not a perfectly optimised life. Not another beautifully branded method for becoming the woman someone says you’re supposed to be.
Just the experience of being here. Utterly here. To feel the grief when grief comes. The pleasure when pleasure comes. To be soaked in beauty. To follow the feral inklings. To laugh too loudly. To change your mind. To want things. To make a mess occasionally.
To be, in all the complicated, luscious, ecstatic, ordinary glory of it…
All The Way Alive.
What actually lands in your inbox
JUICY! is a private, paid community space, its own little neck of the internet woods.
Every Monday, one new piece of writing arrives. Some weeks it’s an essay. Some weeks an observation, a story, a guided prompt, a piece of wisdom pulled from years devoted to working with women’s bodies, stories and the endlessly strange, delicious business of being human.
Women’s health and perimenopause will have a place, because I adore that threshold… but JUICY! isn’t only for women in perimenopause. It’s for any woman who wants more juice in her ordinary life.
JUICY! is not a rigid curriculum where you know exactly what Module Seven will contain (ps. there is no module seven). Part of the delight is an openness to be surprised. To surrender the reins and let the wild horse of curiosity shape your world anew.
Join
as a founding member for $44 AUD per month.
If you're a woman who is ready to feel more sensationally alive inside the life you already have, without adding another self-improvement project to your already impressive list of responsibilities, then darling, get JUICY!
A taste of Nelle's musings
She’s reminding me, that the crux of it all, is art.
That I am an artist, and that the way that I write, and the way that I serve, and the way that I orient myself in relationships, is all art.
I’ve spent the bulk of the last 10 years trying my arse off to learn business. To learn about the ‘blocks’ that I have that stop me from being a Big Bad Boss Babe in the world of flashy flashy more more more.
And I guess, one of the most succulent experiences of mid-age, is to realise, I don’t fucking want that.
Sometimes, when I write I see things as shapes. Before the words. If I were a painter I could paint them, but they’d still not make much sense. They have depth, a kinaesthetic resonance. I can reach my hand toward the vision and know how it feels, and then things like the number of letters or the cultural lineage will drop in. Strange to explain, but it works for me.
When every cell is lit and blood pulses to parts that are long forgotten. When every nerve ending is firing signals to the next, electricity moving through the impermanent blessing of flesh.
The more I live in my body the more I believe that it holds a wisdom far beyond that of the mind. It was created to sustain my life, to nourish me, to protect me, to inspire me. While my mind chases it’s own tail around.
Perhaps you've become Very Good at Life
And perhaps that’s part of the problem.
You’ve spent years becoming capable. You’ve formed things. Shaped things. Held things together. Looked after people. Managed households, work, relationships, health, appointments, money and the emotional weather of rooms you didn’t even particularly want to be responsible for.
And when something feels uncomfortable, you probably know at least six ways to investigate it. A book. A podcast. A practitioner. A supplement. A blood test. A very compelling woman on the internet who seems suspiciously certain she’s found the answer.
Most women think that if life feels dry, disconnected or strangely unsatisfying, they simply need to find the right thing to fix. More information. Better habits. One more insight that will finally explain why they don’t feel as alive as they think they should.
But I think that can become its own kind of trap.
Because life is not always asking to be fixed.
Sometimes it is asking to be received.
And you may have become so extraordinarily Very Good at Life that you’ve forgotten to ask whether you’re truly expressed within it.
There were rules, of course
Some of them were spoken. Most of them were not.
Good girl. High achiever. Capable. Self-sacrificing. Beautiful, but not too much. Successful, but not threatening. Helpful. Productive. Keep going. Keep smiling. Don’t be difficult. Don’t be too emotional.
Don’t be too wild.
Don’t be too wild.
Don’t be too wild.
Perhaps that is the instruction some of us have been following without ever consciously agreeing to it. None of that makes any of us villains in the story. We were simply doing what women have always done… finding whatever shape of belonging the world would let her have, and filing it under ‘life’.
But sometimes the story gets… old.
You can feel it decaying, no longer fertile and life-affirming. You find yourself irritated by things you used to tolerate. You want more beauty in your surroundings. You become less willing to spend your one wild life pretending things don’t matter when they do.
And perhaps this is particularly familiar if you’re standing somewhere around midlife, perimenopause, or another threshold where the old story is bleeding out.
I adore this doorway. Not because perimenopause is a problem to be solved, or because every experience of it is somehow sacred and beautiful… sometimes biology is bloody inconvenient. Sometimes you need a doctor, a blood test, a supplement or a decent night’s sleep.
But there’s JUICE in this threshold. If you know where to find it.
Not another Therapeutique™
I love psychology, bodywork, healing and all the strange, wonderful things humans have invented to help one another suffer less and live more fully. I’ve participated in enough of them myself to know that sometimes you absolutely do need someone clever, trained and compassionate beside you.
But do we really need another exquisitely branded experience?
Another modality. Another sacred container. Another beautifully curated opportunity to discover the seventeen hidden reasons you’re not yet living your best life?
At some point, the pursuit of becoming ‘well’ starts to resemble another full-time job.
And women already have enough jobs.
Sometimes you need therapy. Sometimes a doctor. Sometimes blood tests, supplements, an early night. And sometimes you need to lie in the bath and stare at the ceiling. Put music on while dinner simmers and dance like you’ve mainlined the spirit of all creation.
I’m interested in all of it. But I’m particularly interested in the possibility that pleasure, curiosity, beauty, desire, creativity, laughter and witnessing your life with rich intention might deserve more reverence than we give them.
Think of
as a decadently decorated living room
Books spill upon floors. Someone said something slightly outrageous. Someone else is talking about the initiation of a medieval goddess. Wine sits table-top, with peppermint tea beside it because… hydration.
Nobody is pretending to have their shit together. Nobody is asking you to perform vulnerability for strangers. Nobody has given you a worksheet.
You simply get to sit upon velvet cushions.
And you won’t be entering it alone. JUICY! is a gathering place for women thinking about such things too… women standing at their own thresholds, questioning old stories, becoming less interested in performing the version of themselves everyone expects.
You may read something and discover, in the conversation that follows, that another woman has been thinking the exact same thing. Or something entirely different, which is sometimes even better. Spoiler alert: almost ALWAYS better.
There’s space to respond and reflect, but no expectation you perform intimacy on command. You can simply sit, listen a while, and join when something moves you.
That, to me, is the lusciousness of true community.
is for you if...
- You’re intelligent, thoughtful and increasingly uninterested in being spoken to like you need someone to tell you how to live.
- You’ve spent a great deal of your life being useful and are now curious what else may be possible.
- You love ideas, psychology, mythology, science, story, and conversations that go somewhere unexpected.
- You’re somewhere around midlife, perimenopause, or another significant threshold, and the old story is changing.
- You want more beauty, pleasure, creativity and desire, without turning any of it into another self-improvement project.
- You might have a life that looks perfectly fine from the outside and still hunger for something… more.
- You’d quite like to become more interesting to yourself.
This isn't for you if...
You want a rigid programme, a detailed curriculum, or someone to tell you exactly what to do every week.
It also isn’t therapy, coaching, or a substitute for healthcare.
And if mythology one week and audacious earrings the next makes you deeply uncomfortable… we may not be each other’s people.
I don't really do testimonials
It’s probably a peculiar thing to admit on a sales page. But JUICY! isn’t a promise you’ll become a new woman in six weeks. I’m not collecting before-and-after photographs of energetic fields, and I’ve never been especially comfortable turning someone’s private and deeply personal experience into a shiny piece of evidence designed to persuade the next person.
What I can tell you is what I bring. Years working with women as a naturopath and narrative therapist. Sitting with bodies, stories, symptoms, identities, grief, desire and the strange ways humans make meaning from their lives.
I’m a conceptual engineer. I see the world differently. I build little bridges for others to have their world erupt with possibility. I’m wildly optimistic, and I can see in the dark. I’m playful, but grounded in depth and meaning.
The Practical Bit
Will I have time for this?
There’s nothing to complete… nothing to finish, nothing to fall behind on. The writing arrives Monday and meets you wherever you happen to be that week. This is meant to be something you get to have, honey heart, not one more thing demanding to be done.
Is this only for women in perimenopause?
No. Perimenopause will absolutely have a place, because I adore that doorway… but JUICY! is really about the wider, wilder business of wanting to feel present and alive inside your own life.
Is this therapy or coaching?
No. This is a paid writing space, not a clinical relationship. I bring years working as a naturopath and narrative therapist to what I write, but JUICY! itself isn’t therapy, coaching or healthcare.
What if I don’t want another online community where everyone shares their deepest feelings?
No pressure either way. Some women read quietly and never say a word. Others jump into the conversation the moment something moves them. Both are perfectly perfect.
What if I don’t read every Monday?
Nothing happens. The JUICY! police do not descend. The writing will be there when you want it. Community discussions are ongoing.
Get
$44 AUD/month or $440/year — founding member rate.
A new piece of writing every Monday. Ongoing conversations.
No homework. No giant promise. No exact map. No pips.
Just the JUICE.