
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Have you ever felt sure of a decision until one person questioned it, and then suddenly you weren't sure at all?
Host Kimberly Rash looks at how self-worth, self-esteem and self-trust differ, and why a capable woman can still second-guess herself as soon as someone disagrees. Drawing on research from Jennifer Crocker, Albert Bandura, Daniel Kahneman and Gary Klein, she explains that self-trust comes from evidence and small kept promises, not just from telling yourself you've got this in the mirror. She also tells a funny, vivid story about her mom, the "queen of intuition," and gives practical ways to tell real intuition apart from fear, past hurt or hypervigilance. Along the way, she asks whether you seek advice because you value another view or because you're afraid to trust your own.
You don't have to be perfect or prove your worth before you get a voice. Kimberly invites you to listen to your gut, weigh the facts, and become someone you can rely on.
Somewhere in your house right now there is a candle too pretty to burn, a dress too fancy to wear, or a bottle of something you are saving for a day that keeps not arriving.
Kimberly Rash makes the case for using the good stuff today instead of guarding it for some imaginary someday. She traces this habit back to grandmothers with untouchable china cabinets and parlors nobody was allowed to sit in, then gets honest about her own struggle to let herself be photographed, wear the expensive perfume, or set out the nice dishes on an ordinary Tuesday. Kimberly reminds listeners that loss has taught her tomorrow is never guaranteed, and that the ordinary, unremarkable days with the people we love are often the moments we miss most later on.
She closes by urging listeners to stop waiting for permission and start treating everyday life like it already qualifies as special. Her challenge is simple: find one thing you have been saving, and use it this week.
There comes a point where you stop asking what people think of you, and Kimberly Rash says that point is one of the most freeing places to land.
Kimberly gets brutally honest about everything she has stopped giving energy to as she has gotten older, from gossip and fake people to a perfectly clean house, looking foolish while trying something new, and saying yes out of guilt. She talks about growing out her gray hair on camera instead of hiding behind polished photos, letting go of the exhausting habit of keeping up appearances, and accepting that being kind does not guarantee being liked. Along the way she draws a clear line between caring fiercely about the few things that matter, like real friendships and presence with the people she loves, and releasing everything else that used to drain her.
She wraps up by reminding listeners that this shift is not about caring less in general, it is about finally being selective with limited time and energy. Her invitation is simple: let go of what steals your joy and root into what actually gives you peace.
Somewhere between adulthood and now, most of your friendships stopped happening by accident, and Kimberly Rash wants to talk about why.
Kimberly walks through how proximity and repetition once did all the work of friendship, back when school, church, and neighborhoods kept the same people in your daily orbit without any effort. She breaks down the different tiers of adult connection, from acquaintances and activity friends to the rare 3am people who show up without asking if it's convenient, and makes the case that having a big social circle isn't the same as being deeply known. She also gets honest about her own friendships, including her decades long bond with her best friend, and how some relationships fade not from betrayal but simply from growth, while others are worth the intentional effort it now takes to keep them alive.
By the end, Kimberly reframes the real question from where did my friends go to who do I actually miss and want to build deeper roots with. She closes by encouraging listeners to reach out first, learn their friends' love languages, and stop letting meaningful relationships drift into six month check ins.
Kimberly Rash unpacks how adulthood slowly trains us to turn every hobby into a hustle, every walk into a step count,
and every joy into a job. She shares her own habit of taking things she loves, like gardening and crafting, and
pushing them into production mode until the fun disappears, along with stories about her daughter, stepdaughter,
and sister choosing play and connection in their own ways. Kimberly makes the case that play is not frivolous, that
adults need it just as much as kids do, and that small, unmonetized moments of joy are what actually recharge us.
She closes with a challenge to remember what you loved before anyone told you whether you were good at it, and
to go do it anyway. Real living, she reminds listeners, happens in the ordinary, unproductive moments just as much as the big milestones.
The woman staring back in the mirror keeps changing, and Kimberly Rash isn't always sure who she's looking at anymore.
In this heartfelt and unfiltered episode, Kimberly opens up about the strange, funny, and sometimes frustrating experience of watching her body and face shift with age. She talks honestly about catching unexpected glimpses of herself, grieving her younger body and its 19 and a half inch waist, and navigating the chaos of hormones, weight redistribution, and skin changes, all while insisting that missing her younger self doesn't mean she wants her back. Kimberly reflects on the wisdom, boundaries, and confidence she has gained that her 25 year old self never had, and reframes beauty as something rooted in presence and self ownership rather than approval from others.
By the end, Kimberly lands on a simple truth: she doesn't need to look younger, she just wants to keep looking more like herself. She closes by encouraging listeners to release the negative self talk about aging and rise into the confident, wise person they're becoming.
Growth is quiet, it rarely announces itself, but it is happening whether you notice it or not.
In this reflective episode, Kimberly pauses the usual format to celebrate how far her listeners have come over the podcast's first nineteen episodes. She reminds listeners that most of us stand too close to our own lives to see the changes taking shape, focusing instead on what still needs work rather than what has already transformed. Kimberly shares a personal story about a friend and former coworker whose visible transformation in confidence and happiness became a powerful example of what growth looks like from the outside, and she opens up about her own evolution over the past year, from healed relationships to stronger boundaries to a deeper sense of purpose for her family's future. She closes with an invitation to journal about personal growth over the last six months and to share it publicly as a way of honoring the journey.
This episode is a gentle reminder that worth isn't tied to accomplishment, it's present right now, in the middle of the process. Progress deserves to be celebrated, even when nobody else is watching.
You don't need a leap to change your life, you just need one small, brave step.
In this heart-to-heart episode, Kimberly unpacks why transformation rarely comes from the big dramatic moments we imagine, like the new job or the big move, but instead from the small, quiet acts of courage that build momentum over time. She shares her own journey, from the nerve it took to start this podcast, to keeping her real estate license active, to putting her gratitude journal on Amazon, showing how one brave choice consistently opened the door to the next. Kimberly gets real about the fear of judgment that comes with sharing her voice publicly, and reminds listeners that other people's opinions are none of their business. She closes with a simple root, release, rise journaling exercise designed to help listeners identify where they feel stuck and commit to one small action within the next 24 hours.
This episode is a gentle nudge to stop waiting for the perfect plan and start moving instead. Because clarity comes in the movement, and small courage, repeated, becomes a life.
What happens when the faith you were handed no longer feels like the faith you're living?
Kimberly opens up about the tender, often lonely process of questioning beliefs that were inherited rather than chosen. She shares how growing up steeped in a fear-based church culture shaped her early understanding of God, and how years of honest searching, reading beyond the Bible, and sitting with hard questions led her toward a faith rooted in love instead of fear. She talks candidly about spiritual gifts, mysticism, and the discomfort of outgrowing certainty, all while insisting that questioning isn't the opposite of faith but often a sign of growing closer to it.
Kimberly reminds listeners that their spiritual path belongs to them alone and doesn't require anyone else's approval. She closes with an invitation to release the guilt tied to searching and to trust that becoming is the whole point.
What if the boundary you keep struggling to hold has less to do with the other person and more to do with whether you can trust your own yes and no?
Kimm unpacks making boundaries, people pleasing, guilt, and resentment, showing that a boundary is not a punishment or a way to control someone else, it is simply the honest communication of what you are willing to participate in. She walks through why saying no feels so much harder than it should, how repeated negotiating quietly teaches people that your first no is not final, and why resentment is often a sign that a boundary was never actually spoken out loud. Kimm also shares a personal story about setting a hard boundary with a family member, and offers a simple phrase anyone can borrow to buy themselves time before answering a request.
This episode is an invitation to notice your automatic yeses, listen to what your body already knows, and practice becoming someone you can trust. Healthy boundaries were never about shutting people out, they are about staying connected without abandoning yourself.
From the publisher's feed