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Lisa Geisler | Living
Lisa Geisler | Living
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  • Reflections from Italy Part 4 | Closing: My Time Is Up!

    As my time in Italy comes to an end, I find myself reflecting on what this experience has given me — and what I may be leaving behind. I am on the train, travelling backwards at 250 kilometres an hour through the Tuscan countryside.
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  • Reflections from Italy Part 3 | Florence and the Magic it Still Has on Me

    Florence feels different this time. After two exhilarating weeks at the Winter Olympics in Italy, I now find myself alone, trying to settle into a quieter rhythm.
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  • Reflections from Italy Part 2 | Bologna — A Gentle Reset

    I am trying. Trying to be patient with the reset of my nervous system. It feels like a roller coaster that never quite stops, but over the past few days I sense that something is shifting — like a quiet turning of a page.
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  • Reflections from Italy Part 1 | The Olympics, and The Moment I Chose to Stay

    For me, the Olympics have always symbolized one of the highest levels of human effort — years of discipline and sacrifice distilled into a single moment where everything is decided...
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Finding Lisa

FROM THE OUTSIDE, I LOOKED LIKE I HAD IT ALL TOGETHER

I was the woman people came to—dependable, highly capable, driven, upbeat,
trustworthy. The one who knew how to make things happen. I believed it was my
responsibility to smooth over tension, strategize, dream big, and solve for everyone and
anyone.

I was the dependable daughter.
The supportive wife.
The present mom.
The loyal friend.
The talented designer.
The emotional anchor—holding space, keeping the peace, and carrying the secrets.

I could run my own design business, raise two amazing kids, host family holidays (even
when I was sick for most of them), manage our home and cottage, be a loving wife and
business partner, take financial risks in stride, attend company functions, plan birthday
parties, drive to after-school activities, build the deck—and still have dinner ready,
makeup on, and coordinated work clothes.

Many nights, I would crawl into bed completely drained. I’d think, “I gave the day
everything I could… right?”

As I lay there, unpacking the day’s events and mentally preparing for yet another
decision-fatigued morning, tears would form. Then came the breath, the one I hadn’t
realized I’d been holding.

I inhaled purposefully and thought:
I forgot to breathe today.
I’ll do better tomorrow.
I was the strong one.

The capable one.
The safe place.
The woman who could carry it all.

But over time, something inside me began to shift.

It wasn’t a dramatic collapse.
It was quieter than that.

It started with body aches and chronic fatigue doctors couldn’t explain. A constant
tightness in my throat appeared in the rare moments I asked for help. A hollow feeling
grew louder each time the house fell quiet. After years of running on fumes, I finally
realized: I had spent so long holding everyone else up, I had forgotten—or never really
learned—how to hold myself.

Saying no felt paralyzing.
Letting someone down?
Unbearable.

Purchase the book to keep reading.
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Living truthfully.

Creating freely.

Inspiring what’s next.

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