July 2015 feels like a lifetime ago.

Back then, I was almost 34 years old, mom to a two-year-old, and living a pretty healthy lifestyle. But—true to Sheri fashion—I decided to take it up a notch. I’ve always been a “go big” kind of person. Live in a van in New Zealand? Sure. Run a half-marathon in Disney with zero training? Why not? Put my name on a municipal election ballot? Let’s do it.

So naturally, the next step in my ‘healthy lifestyle’ at that time was… stepping on stage in a purple bikini and an oompa loompa tan, competing in a fitness competition against 20-year-olds whose moms were still cooking their chicken.

I was proud. Really proud. I trained hard—gym 4–5 times a week, morning spin bike rides at home, and a meal plan that revolved around chicken, rice, broccoli, egg whites, potatoes, protein shakes, and pudding (yes, pudding!). I felt strong, disciplined, and determined.

And then? Three months after that show, I got pregnant with Shae.

Looking back now—10 years later—I have mixed feelings. I’m grateful I set that goal and saw it through. I proved to myself that I could do hard things. But I also realized that level of discipline… wasn’t sustainable. It consumed me. I got trapped in macros, calories, and constant self-checking in the mirror. It’s not a headspace I want to revisit.

Especially as a mom to a daughter.

From the moment Shae was born, I made a promise to myself: I never wanted her to hear me say, “I need to go on a diet” or “I hate my body.”

Instead, I want her to hear me say things like “I need to drink more water, I’ve gotten off track” and “I need to move my body more, I’m feeling slow.”

I try—really hard—to frame health in terms of how I feel and what my body can do, not what it looks like. Because I want her to see a mom who is motivated, hard-working, and strong—not one who is constantly chasing a number on a scale or a size in jeans.

But here’s the truth: It’s hard.

It’s hard to look back at photos from 10 years ago and remember the six-pack, the thighs of steel, the cute butt—and not compare it to where I am now. It’s hard to juggle two busy kids, two jobs, and a body that doesn’t respond the same way it used to. Hormones are real, time is real, life is real.

And yet… balance is possible.  I believe it and I will find it.

Turning 44 this Fall, I’m not looking for extremes. I’m not looking for stage-ready. I’m looking for strong, healthy, happy. I’m looking for energy. For confidence. For a version of me that feels good in my own skin again—not perfect, just proud.

So I’m jumping back in.
Not all-in like 2015.
Just enough to drink more water, move my body, and remind myself—and my daughter—that health is about so much more than how we look.

Pura Vida, right?

Living the good life, right here, right now.