The Story Behind Sweet and Sassy

May 28

Written By Stacy .

How self-awareness helped me Adventure Big. Live Simple.

There was a time when I thought I needed to have everything figured out.

A successful career.

A full calendar.

Big goals.

Bigger adventures.

From the outside, life looked good. And in many ways, it was.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I had become very good at doing what I thought I was supposed to do—and not nearly as good at noticing what actually brought me joy.

The funny thing about self-awareness is that it rarely arrives all at once.

At least it didn't for me.

It showed up quietly.

It looked like lingering a little longer on a hiking trail because I loved the way the morning light filtered through the trees.

It looked like spending an afternoon baking bread and realizing I enjoyed the process just as much as the finished loaf.

It looked like writing stories about places I'd visited and discovering I cared less about checking destinations off a list than I did about remembering how they made me feel.

At first, I didn't think much of it.

They were just moments.

Little moments.

None of them seemed particularly important on their own.

Together, they changed everything.

For a long time, I thought adventure meant doing more.

Travel farther.

Hike harder.

Stay busier.

Keep achieving.

What I've learned is that adventure isn't measured by miles traveled or mountains climbed.

Sometimes the biggest adventure is simply paying attention to your own life.

Listening to what energizes you.

Noticing what leaves you feeling peaceful instead of exhausted.

Having the courage to admit when something no longer fits—even if it once did.

That realization didn't happen overnight.

It happened one small observation at a time.

Looking back, I realize I wasn't just collecting memories.

I was collecting clues.

One of the biggest lessons came from somewhere I never expected.

Social media.

For years, I believed I needed to be everywhere.

Post constantly.

Keep up with every trend.

Create more.

Share more.

Be visible all the time.

And while I enjoyed creating, I slowly realized I wasn't enjoying the way I was creating.

I wasn't looking forward to opening certain apps anymore.

I felt like I was constantly trying to keep up with a pace that didn't fit who I was.

That wasn't failure.

It was information.

Instead of forcing myself to become someone who loved the constant noise, I gave myself permission to build differently.

I started writing longer stories.

Taking fewer—but more meaningful—photos.

Creating Pinterest posts that encouraged curiosity instead of chasing quick attention.

Making YouTube videos because I genuinely enjoyed sharing places I loved.

Little by little, I stopped asking,

"What should I create next?"

And started asking,

"What feels worth sharing?"

Looking back, I wasn't falling out of love with creating.

I was falling in love with creating differently.

I didn't want to be louder.

I wanted to be more intentional.

That was another clue.

The same thing happened in my kitchen.

When I first started baking bread, I wanted the perfect loaf.

Admittedly, I'm competitive.

I love to cook, so naturally I assumed I'd bake the perfect loaf on my first try.

I didn't.

Looking back, I'm glad I didn't.

Because the imperfect loaves taught me far more than a perfect one ever could.

The bread wasn't the point.

The point was slowing down.

Learning patience.

Accepting that every loaf taught me something new.

Pizza night became less about pizza.

It became about tradition.

About making the dough together.

Waiting while it rose.

Talking around the kitchen island.

Celebrating the perfectly crisp crust—or learning from the one that wasn't.

Somewhere along the way, dinner became a ritual instead of just another meal.

Focaccia became less about the recipe.

It became about curiosity.

Even meal planning stopped feeling like another chore and started feeling like a way to create more room for the things I actually wanted to do.

Those were more clues.

The lessons didn't stay in the kitchen.

They followed me onto hiking trails.

I've learned that I don't need to conquer the hardest hike to have an unforgettable day.

Some of my favorite memories have come from stopping to notice wildflowers, watching sunlight hit the rocks, or finding a quiet place to sit for a few minutes before turning around.

I've stood beneath a sky full of stars in Yosemite.

I've watched waves roll onto the shore long after most people had packed up and gone home.

I've sat in my favorite restaurant with my favorite meal and realized I wasn't there just to eat anymore.

I wanted to slow down.

Take my time.

Savor the conversation.

Appreciate where I was.

Years ago, I might have been thinking about the next destination.

Now I find myself wanting to stay just a little longer.

That was another clue.

The older I get, the more I realize life isn't a competition.

It's a relationship.

With ourselves.

With the people we love.

With the places that make us feel alive.

Eventually, I realized all of these little moments had something in common.

They weren't asking me to become someone new.

They were showing me who I'd been all along.

Looking back, I can see that Sweet & Sassy was never really about travel.

Or recipes.

Or simple living.

Or product recommendations.

Those are simply the stories I use to talk about something much bigger.

Learning to pay attention.

Every trail tells a story.

Every journey tells a story.

Every recipe tells a story.

Every day has a story worth noticing.

Maybe that's what I've really been searching for all along.

Not a bigger life.

A truer one.

Today, when I make decisions—whether it's planning a trip, writing a blog post, or deciding what deserves my time—I come back to one simple question:

Does this feel like me?

If the answer is yes, I keep going.

If it isn't, I've learned to trust that answer too.

Because self-awareness didn't make my world smaller.

It made it clearer.

It gave me permission to build a business around a life I genuinely enjoy instead of building a life around a business.

It reminded me that success isn't about doing what everyone else is doing.

It's about creating a life that fits.

That's what Adventure Big. Live Simple. has always meant to me.

Not living bigger.

Living more intentionally.

One story at a time.

Today, I still love traveling.

I still love hiking.

I still get excited when a loaf of bread turns out just right or a pizza comes out of the oven with the perfect crust.

Those things didn't change.

I did.

I pay attention now.

And because I pay attention, I notice more beauty.

More joy.

More gratitude.