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It’s a Monday afternoon.

I just got back from a walk and reminicising on our epic American trip last year. Experiencing some serious pangs of wanderlust withdrawals and death-defying photo opps.


Damn right, I (reluctantly) sat on the edge of the freakin’ Grand Canyon for rad photography purposes.

Bad ass.

Yeah, I whinged and crawled on all fours while saying my prayers* but I did it. 


*Prayers more like: “Please don’t die, please don’t die, I’m going to fucking kill Tim if I die”. Totally logic prayers.


I’m the first to admit I’m not the most adventurous, thrill seeking adrenalin junkie going around. I’m not even sponatneous. Planning is my crack. Give me a sitch I can have full control of any day. 




I’m back from my walk,  sipping on my sugar-laden banana smoothie and phone in hand ready to scroll. Ash Ambirge from the Middle Finger Project jumps into my sight and away I go getting lost in the Ambridge-vortex. No complaints here. 


There were definitely no complaints when I read her ‘Becoming Unfuckwithable’ article. It wasn’t the first time I had heard this term – I saw it floating around the Insta-sphere late last year – but this was the first article or commentary that gave me a headache from all the nodding I did. Take the moment to listen to her talk – not now, after you’ve read this. Please. Thanks.


In true Kate-style, the article got me reflecting. 


Am I unfuckwithable?


I’d like to think I am, but in all honesty: I’ve got a lot of unfuckwithable-growing to do.


I’m going to say there’s some fancy spectrum scale of unfuckwithable and I’m most likely floating around the middle. Who the hell wants to be in the middle? It’s mediocre. Boring. Vanilla. 


Here’s a take home message for you: Don’t be vanilla girl.


I restrained myself last year.


I stopped swearing on my blog. Even though I curse my damn mouth off in my most viral blog post ever.


I started saying no to way too many things. I went from saying yes to everything to the other extreme. Cue long days of netflix and chill. Ok, just lots of Netflix.


I bottled my emotions. Again. Gosh damn this robotic heart. 


And like I always have, I didn’t once push my opinions. I have an unhealthy lust for balanced arguments. Maybe I’m more of a people pleaser than I think I am. 


And this needs to stop. 


But you know what? I’m a hypocrite. I tell this to my clients all the time.


Don’t be boring.

Be controversial.

Be exceptional.

Don’t do what everyone else is doing.

State your damn mind.

Be a star in a world of squares.



2016 will be the year I really speak my mind. With a dollop of emotive cursing and Kate-cisms.


And you will too.


I’ll say fuck yeah to the things that float my boat. I’ll say ‘Nah fuck that’ when I’d rather knit myself a scarf. 


So will you.


I’ll sit on the edge of a cliff for a damn photo. I’ll even jump on the monkey bars at the playground without giving a fuck how silly I look.


And you’ll do it too.


So in 2016, I refuse to be vanilla. Let’s all refuse to be vanilla.


Let’s be creme brulee instead. Because it’s fuckin’ delicious and totally unfuckwithable.



To online anarchy,




PS – Let’s become seen, heard and wanted this year. The formula for this? Simple: hard work + amplified quirk + attending this free live event. I’ve even given you two dates & times to pick. Thoughtful aren’t I? But in all seriousness, come along. I’ll pump you with music and stacks of great advice. Jan 19th or Jan 20th, be there or be square –>