I caught myself doing that the other day. Someone asked where we should go for lunch, and before I even considered what sounded good to me, I heard myself say, “I’m happy with whatever.”

It wasn’t a big deal. We had a great lunch. But I wondered... Why did I answer so quickly?

That’s such a small example but it happens often. I answer for the connivence of others, before checking in with myself. It made me realize that somewhere along my way, it became second nature to make sure everyone else was happy first

At some point I started saying, “It’s okay” “Whatever works for you” “I don’t care”. I stopped correcting people and letting them know when something bothered me, all because it felt easier not to. At some point I started laughing off things that didn’t make me feel good. I would tell myself it isn’t worth bringing up, “I don’t want to upset anyone”.

I spent so many years raising kids, working, taking care of people I love, making sure everyone around me was okay. And, I wouldn’t change that. But I do think it’s possible to become so good at reading everyone else’s needs that you stop checking in with your own.

I think we stop asking ourselves little questions. What do I think? What do I want? How does this actually feel?

These are such simple questions, yet somehow they’re the easiest ones to forget.

Lately, I’ve been trying to remember them, and I encourage you to try and remember them too.

Have you ever noticed one of those moments where you realize you stopped checking in with yourself?

The first step for me was noticing, I think thats where it always starts.

🤍 JG

✧ Evening walks with my doggies

✧ Stone fruit season — a good nectarine really changes the trajectory of my day…

✧ Mocktails with dinner

✧ Sleepovers with my daughter in her first apartment

✧ Lighting my palo santo in the mornings

✧ Playing music while I work from home

✧ Getting back into my workout routine

✧ Watching my dogs nap beside me

✧ My QVC family and friends — I just got back from a trip there and I always leave feeling so full and supported which leads me to my next thing…

✧ Supportive friends — the people in your life that support you, but also tell you when you’re in the wrong.

✧ Having a tv show to watch with my husband — I love when we get locked into a show. Right now, it’s The House of The Dragon.

✧ FaceTiming my east coast daughter while I make dinner

Sometimes when I’m in a rut, hearing about how others fill their cup and invite happiness into their lives inspires me to try it out, or maybe even find my own ways to choose joy.

What’s been bringing you a little extra joy lately? It can be something big or something as simple as your morning coffee. I always love reading your comments.

🤍 JG

One of the unexpected things about becoming a mom is that you get very good at knowing the needs of other people. You know who’s hungry. Who’s tired. Who’s hiding something. Who’s had a bad day. Who’s pretending they’re okay when they’re not.

For years, I could walk into a room and tell you exactly what my daughters needed. I knew their favorite songs, their favorite foods, their dreams and their fears.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped being able to recognize those same needs in myself. Not because I didn’t care, but because I was just so busy raising kids, building a career, trying my best to nurture my relationship and friendships.

Then one day I blinked, and my daughters were older and needed me differently. I remember that strange transition like it was yesterday. All of the sudden, I had time for me. I remember having this strange realization that I knew so much about everyone around me, but there were parts of myself I hadn’t checked in with for years, parts that I had lost touch with completely.

As I sat in those disconnected feelings I decided I needed to get curious about this new chapter I was embarking on. I had to get to know this version of me that was emerging. What do I enjoy now? What excites me? What do I want to learn more about? What do I want next? Even on a really simple level, what do I want for dinner tonight? (you can ask my husband, I still don’t know the answer to that one, ha!)

I always assumed deep down during all the hustle of being a mom, the weekends of soccer, the music lessons, the play dates, that I knew the answer to all those questions, that I new myself. But I didn’t.

Getting to re-discover those answers has been one of the unexpected joys of this season of my life. It turns out, you can know yourself for decades, and still have more to learn.

That was part of the gift of motherhood— that on the other side you get to find yourself again. I wasn’t just raising kids, I was also raising myself, getting to meet new versions of me along the way.

If motherhood has taught you one unexpected thing about yourself, tell me below, I’d love to hear it.

🤍 JG

I mean seriously. The car horns, the fast walkers, the traffic on the freeway. We’re all rushing to build the business, rushing to find the relationship, to buy the house, to lose the weight, to get to Friday.

We’re rushing through our mornings so we can get to work, rushing through work so we can get home ,and then somehow rushing through the things we’re supposedly looking forward to.

I’m exhausted just writing about all this rushing!

The scary part is that we don’t even know we’re doing it. I mean I didn’t realize it for a long time. I thought being busy meant I was productive. I thought moving quickly meant I was taking care of all the things.

It wasn’t until I started practicing meditation and therapy that I realized that the moments when I feel the happiest, aren’t the fast moments. They’re the slow ones.

A long dinner with friends and family, watching the sun go down, cooking dinner, starting a new DIY project, getting lost in a new book. I mean, these are the moments that make life worth living!

So many of us get tricked into believing that the goal is to get there faster.

Faster than who???

If everybody is rushing, maybe the real rebellion is slowing down. Maybe the real win isn’t how quickly you get somewhere, but instead about how much of your life you get to truly experience on the way.

When you find yourself in a rush, catch yourself. Ask, “what’s the hurry?” If you’ve been feeling like you’re behind, this is your reminder that you don’t have to keep up with anyone else’s pace. Trust your own. You’ll get to where you’re going, and you’ll probably enjoy the view a lot more along the way.

🤍 JG

When you’re younger everyone is constantly asking what you want to be, where you’re going, what your plan is. There always seems to be this pressure to figure it out. I mean, I have felt that my whole life. As an actor, when nothing is certain, a little part of you is always scrambling to figure it out.

Becoming successful at such a young age, a lot of my confidence came from my work that seemed to have figured itself out. Work kept rolling, things were just happening, and I was riding the wave. As if someone else was pulling the strings telling me where I was going, what I was going to do, what to say— I mean everything seemed figured out. I thought I knew exactly where I was headed.

As I’ve looked back on certain parts of my life, I can see that some of the most interesting things have started with me having absolutely no idea what I was doing. I mean, moving to Los Angeles from rural Illinois with zero exposure or acting experience, switching gears to comedy on What I Like About You after 10 years of drama on 90210, becoming a mom at 23, starting a podcast, writing a book, starting a clothing brand, becoming a business woman. Those were all huge life moments, and for each and every one of those ventures, I jumped in with both feet, and with my eyes closed….

There was never a moment where I suddenly felt qualified or ready. I learned as I went. I asked questions, made mistakes, tried again and again. I learned to pride myself not on being the smartest in the room, but instead, I valued myself as the most curious.

My parents always taught me, curious people grow. Curious people evolve. Curious people end up in places they never would’ve discovered if they thought they already knew everything.

Every opportunity that shaped my life, started with me being a beginner. And every chapter I’m excited about next, probably will too.

I think we sometimes convince ourselves it’s too late to start something new. That it’s too late to change careers, to learn, to take big swings and be brave enough to try despite our fears. I can see now that it’s the willingness to be a beginner that actually keeps us growing.

So… Ask the question. Take the class. Start the project. Walk into the room where you don’t know anyone. Be willing to be new at something. After all, every day is a new opportunity to design the life you want.

Once you change your mindset, you will realize the freedom that comes with admitting you don’t have all the answers. There is so much possibility when your desire is to learn.

🤍 JG

What I didn’t expect was just how much this yellow would change my outlook on life going forward.

After the decision was made, I suddenly started seeing yellow everywhere, and I mean everywhere. A yellow flower growing through a sidewalk crack. A yellow sweater in a store window. A yellow car sitting at a stoplight. A yellow mug. A yellow sign.

Over and over again.

Now, logically, I know those things were always there. But once yellow became meaningful to me, I started noticing it. And it made me think about how when we start looking for something, suddenly it appears everywhere.

Opportunity.
Joy.
Kindness.
Hope.

Maybe it’s not that those things weren’t there before. Maybe we just weren’t looking for them.

There have been seasons of my life where I’ve felt uncertain. Seasons where I didn’t know what came next. Seasons where I needed a reminder that I was on the right path.

And thinking back to those uncertain moments, it’s crazy how yellow showed up, even back then. Then and now, it was always a tiny wink from the universe. A reminder to keep going, to trust myself, to stay open.

It’s a reminder for me to pay attention— sometimes that’s exactly what we need. Not a sign telling us where to go. Just a reminder to keep our eyes open while we’re getting there. 🤍

JG

They see the finished dress. The sweater. The set. They don’t see the months of conversations that happened before it ever existed.

And if we’re doing our job right, that’s all you should notice— how the piece makes you feel when you wear it.

But behind every style is a process that I care deeply about.

One of the questions I get asked most is, “How involved in the design process are you really?”

The answer is: very.

Probably more than people expect.

My daughter, Lola, and I develop every sketch and look. We feel every fabric. We choose every color. We fit every sample. We forecast trends. We pull inspiration from everywhere - if you want to read another substack about where we source our inspo, tell me in the comments!

I know which styles took six months to get right and which ones came together immediately. I know which pieces almost made it into the collection and which ones didn’t. I know which fabric developments took dozens of emails and meetings because something was just slightly off.

And I care about it all— every single little step. Because yes I never want to make something I’m not proud of, but also because I am the customer, too.

Every piece we create starts with the same questions:

“How would I style this” “How is this of better quality than others on the market” “Where would I wear this”

Would I reach for it on a busy Tuesday? Would I wear it traveling? Would I pack it for a weekend away? Would I wear it while working from home, going to dinner, or walking the dogs?

If the answer isn’t yes, we keep working.

There are styles we’ve completely redesigned because a sleeve didn’t sit quite right. Fabrics we’ve passed on because they looked beautiful but didn’t feel good enough. Colors we’ve adjusted multiple times because they weren’t capturing the feeling we were after.

And that word—feeling—is actually a huge part of how we design. When we’re developing a collection, we’re not just talking about silhouettes.

How do we want someone to feel when they put this on?

Confident? Comfortable? Pulled together? Like themselves?

I think we spend enough time adjusting to our clothes— tugging at things, second-guessing things, wondering if something is flattering.

I want our clothes to do the opposite. I want them to let you forget about them.

One thing people may not know is that I save and wear our samples constantly. My closet is filled with pieces we’ve developed over the years. Some of them have been washed dozens of times. Some have traveled with me. Some have become the pieces I instinctively reach for when I don’t know what to wear.

And I pay attention. How did it hold up? Did we miss a pocket? Did the fabric perform the way we hoped? Did I still want to wear it six months later? Those experiences become part of future collections. Because I don’t just want to create clothes that look good online. I want to create clothes that become part of your life.

The older I’ve gotten, the less interested I’ve become in trends and the more interested I’ve become in longevity. I want pieces that earn their place in a closet. Pieces you reach for over and over again. Pieces that feel just as good years later as they did the first time you put them on.

That’s why we take the long way around. Because every woman deserves clothes that were created with the same care she gives to everyone else.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from building this brand, it’s that the details people never see are often the ones that matter most. 🤍

JG

Comment below if you want to hear more about the brand and our design process / business!

For me, it’s seeing a hummingbird.

Every single time.

I don’t know why, but whenever I see one, I immediately pause. The emails, the to-do lists, the worries, the plans—they all seem a little less important for a moment. Those tiny birds whose wings flutter so fast they sound as if they’re humming just for me, I can’t help but watch them.

The same thing happens when I feel a cooling breeze on a warm day. Or when I hear the sounds of waves crashing on a beach. Or when one of my dogs comes over and rests their head on my lap.

They’re tiny moments, but they have a way of grounding me.

I think we all need those reminders.

Life moves fast. It’s so easy to get caught up in what’s next that we forget to notice what’s right in front of us. Before we know it, we’re mentally living tomorrow instead of today.

That’s why I think it’s important to have something that grounds you. Something that interrupts the noise. Something that reminds you that this moment matters too.

For me, those little pauses are a chance to take a breath and reconnect with myself. They remind me that life isn’t only happening in the big milestones, the accomplishments, or the things I’m working toward. It’s happening right now—in the breeze, in a hummingbird hovering outside my window.

Lately, I’ve been trying to pay more attention to the things that bring me back to the present. The older I get, the more I realize that a beautiful life isn’t made up of big milestones alone. It’s made up of thousands of small moments that remind us we’re here.

I’d love to know—what’s your thing? What always makes you pause, take a breath, and come back to the present moment?

JG

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I think that’s part of why I spend so much time preparing for each episode of the I Choose Me podcast.

Before every guest comes on, I’ll read articles, listen to interviews, watch clips, take notes, and write down questions. Sometimes I find myself going down rabbit holes for hours because one story leads to another.

I’m always making sure I do my prep work to make the person across from me feels comfortable, and feels understood and listened to. I’m always looking to understand. I’m looking for the thing underneath the thing. The experiences that shaped them. The challenges that changed them. The lessons they’re still learning. How that first moment when they decided to choose themselves, got them to where they are now.

I think what I’ve realized through doing the podcast, is that people don’t remember whether you asked the perfect question. They remember how you made them feel— and the same goes for the listener.

After I listen to a podcast, I have no recollection of what I listened to (maybe that’s menopause…) but what I remember is how listening to it made me feel! It’s so important.

In a world where we’re all moving so quickly, getting the opportunity to really converse with another person, where you’re genuinely listening to each other feels almost radical.

For an hour, nothing else matters. Not the notifications. Not the deadlines. Not the next thing on the calendar. Just two people sharing a conversation. Every single time, I walk away reminded of the same thing:

Connection isn’t built from having all the right things to say. It’s built from caring enough to listen.

So, thank you for listening and being a part of the I Choose Me pod community, I wake up everyday excited to expand the community for you.

🤍 JG

Listen to the latest episode of the I Choose Me Podcast featuring David Archuleta

Side note — for 54 years I’ve never really understood traffic. Like everybody, just keep moving?? I don’t think I’ll ever get it.

Anyway.

I was stuck. Completely standstill. Running late for my dentist appointment, watching my whole day start to shift because of it. I had a full list of things I needed to get done, and this traffic was just eating into all of it.

I’m sure you can tell my first reaction was instant irritation. I kept refreshing my maps, tried Waze, thought about taking side roads, audibly sighing out load… more than once.

And then after a few minutes I just kind of stopped fighting it. Like… okay. I’m not going anywhere right now.

So I put some music on. Rolled the windows down a bit. Actually sat back for a second. And I realized— this might be the only moment all day where I literally can’t do anything else.

No multitasking.
No fixing something.
No rushing ahead.

I’m just… here. Which almost never happens. And once I stopped resisting it, it actually felt kind of nice. Like ahhhhhh.

I realized that anything that doesn’t go the way I planned immediately gets labeled as frustrating when maybe it’s just a matter of reframing the situation.

SO my challenge for you is to take those negative situations— traffic, plans getting last minute canceled, a messy house, running late, bad hair day— whatever it is, reframe it, or at least try.

I promise you there is something that shifts when you start to look for the positives instead of fixating on the negatives.

🤍 JG

When those things happen, my brain sometimes goes to: Ahhh, why did you say that? You should know better by now…

That used to be my first reaction— instantly turning it back on myself. I don’t even think I realized how automatic it was. Lately I’ve been trying something different…

Instead of going straight to that place, I’ve been really challenging myself to slow it down a little bit. Just pausing and asking… what’s actually going on here?

Was I tired? Did something else trigger me more than I thought? Why did I react the way I did?

Being able to analyze your reactions or comments is such an integral first step in learning more about yourself — being curious about yourself and the way you think.

Self awareness is a way to hold yourself accountable, for the benefit of others and of you!

There are still plenty of moments where I catch myself halfway through being hard on myself. But I’m noticing it more. And sometimes, that’s enough to change the direction. I don’t think we need to be perfect with ourselves. I think we just need to be a little more on our own side.

Remember to stay curious.

🤍 JG

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I mean, I can think back to when I was a teenager… I always felt like I had to make myself smaller to fit. To get the part. To be the girlfriend. To be taken seriously as a businesswoman. To be heard at all.

Maybe it was a ’90s thing. Maybe a misogynistic thing.

And I didn’t question it at the time. It just felt like the way it worked.

You adjust. You soften. You don’t take up too much space.

And what’s been interesting is realizing how much of that stayed with me. Even now. Like when it comes to talking about what I’m building. Sharing it. Standing next to it. Saying, this matters to me. I still catch myself wanting to tone it down.

Make it more casual. Less direct. Less… me.

And I’ve been asking myself why, because I’m not that girl anymore.

I’ve lived enough life to know what it takes to build something. To have passion about something. To put your name on it and stand behind it.

So why does that instinct to shrink still show up sometimes?

And at the same time, I’m watching my daughters.

Luca, Lola, Fiona… they don’t do that.

They don’t second guess themselves in the same way. They don’t soften everything before they share it. They just… say it. Own it. Stand in it.

And I’m so proud of that. I’m so proud because while that’s something I’ve had to learn, these girls have it instilled in them… they let their light shine.

That putting yourself out there, talking about what you’ve created, building a business around who you are… it’s not about being louder. It’s about not shrinking.

It’s about letting what you’ve built be seen as it is. It’s about not making it smaller to make other people more comfortable.

Remember to take up space. Remember to share what you’ve built. Remember to let your light shine.

I’ll be right here cheering you on from the sidelines.

🤍JG

You know that moment when you’re getting ready for something— a presentation, walking on stage, even just doing something that pushes you a little— and suddenly your brain decides now is the perfect time to spiral?

Am I really supposed to be here?

What if I mess this up?

Shouldn’t this be happening to someone else… someone better?

Yeah. Those thoughts. I don’t know about you but those thoughts can feel all too familiar to me.

Being on tour, I had to face them constantly. Every stop. Every press event. Every time I stood up to speak. And what I started to realize is… the only way around those thoughts is actually right through them. There were so many moments where I’d catch myself starting to swirl right down that drain. I’d have to put my hand to my chest, take a deep breath, stop and ask: Is this thought even true? Do I really believe I’m not supposed to be here? And if I’m being honest, in that first moment— when you’re nervous, when your heart’s racing— the answer can feel like a very convincing “yes!”. Like, yeah… maybe I’m not ready for this. But then I’d ask myself again. Do you actually, truly, 100% believe that thought? And there was always this quieter voice underneath it all that said… “no”.

No, you do belong here.
No, you’ve lived this.
No, you didn’t come this far to sit it out now.

And that became the shift for me. Because just because a thought is loud… doesn’t mean it’s true.

So I pushed myself out there anyway. Not feeling 100% confident. Not feeling totally sure of myself. But grounded enough to know I wasn’t going to let fear make the decision for me. And honestly… every time I did that, something in me got a little stronger. Like I was building trust with myself.

I think we spend so much time trying to silence that voice completely… when really, maybe the goal is just to not let it run the show. To hear it, question it… and then choose something else.

That’s what this tour taught me. Not how to get rid of imposter syndrome. Just how to not let it win.

Next time you hear those negative thoughts, remember this, and tell me how it goes 🤍

Jennie

In reflecting on the tour, I’m reminded just how important it is to tell our stories.

I knew from the beginning that I want to share my story— messy parts, mistakes, and the things that shaped me. But what I didn’t know was how much it would open the door for other women to share theirs too.

There was so much honesty and vulnerability on this tour and surrounding this book. I knew those were things I needed to get comfortable with ahead of the tour, but I didn’t realize it would be coming from you too. I will never forget the people that came up to me, told me something, and said, “wow, I’ve never said that out loud before.”

It made me realize how much we carry on our own… and how different it feels the second it’s spoken and someone else understands.

That’s why telling our stories matter.

Not because we have it all figured out— but because we don’t. Because there’s someone else out there who needs to hear it.

And after this tour, I don’t feel like I just shared my story. I feel like I witnessed so many others take the first step in sharing theirs too.

Thank you for choosing to be vulnerable with me— it didn’t feel so scary, right?

🤍JG

I’ve done a lot of public speaking over the years. Panels, interviews, being on stage… there’s a rhythm to it. It’s a type of anxiousness that I’m used to, or that I know how to handle.

This feels different. It’s calm and intense all at the same time.

I’m not standing up there talking about a role, or a project, or a new collection of clothing. I’m not interviewing someone else like I do on my podcast. I am up there, standing in front of women who are about to read my story… or maybe already have.

There’s this moment, every time, right before speaking that it hits me: they’re going to know me in a different way.

And that feels… exposing in a way I didn’t fully understand until I was actually here, doing it.

There’s nothing to hide behind.

No character. No distance. No version of the story that feels safer. It’s all kind of… out on the table.

And look, I won’t pretend that doesn’t feel scary.

There are moments I can feel it in my body — right before I walk out, or when I look out into the crowd and realize how many women are sitting there, bringing their own lives, their own experiences, into this room with me.

It’s a different kind of connection.

Stronger. More direct. And also… strangely comforting.

As much as it feels vulnerable, it also feels honest in a way I haven’t experienced before.

Like I’m not managing how I’m being seen anymore. I’m just… letting it happen.

And what I’ve noticed is that the more I allow that, the more real the connection feels.

I think that’s what I’m learning out here, stop by stop on this book tour. That being this open (even when it feels a little terrifying) is also what makes it meaningful.

I hope I get to see you at one of the stops

🤍JG

I’ve been thinking about how this book almost didn’t happen. I mean not the actual book, I knew I wanted to write a book, but how this version almost didn’t happen. If I’m honest, I could’ve told a very different story.

I could have stayed surface-level. I could have kept it light and positive all the way through. I could have shared what felt comfortable and left the rest where it’s lived for years — in my head, in my body, shoved under the rug…

And for a while, I thought that’s what I was going to do. I just didn’t think I was ready.

I always had this vision that I would go to the grave with my stories and experiences, that they are mine and only mine. But I’ve learned that as women we NEED to share our stories to help each other, to support each other, to remind each other that we aren’t alone.

When I began writing I Choose Me back in 2024, it was hard to separate all of my life experiences, especially the raw ones I thought maybe I should try to conceal, apart from each other. I realized how all of my experiences, stories, relationships, struggles, successes, are what have carried me through to this moment. There wasn’t a ‘polished’ version of I Choose Me, that just didn’t exist. Every one of my hardships and accomplishments shaped me, and shaped this book.

All of it.

There were moments I caught myself wanting to soften things. To rephrase. To make something sound a little more put together than it actually was.

And I had to stop and ask myself… why?

Who am I protecting? What am I trying to control?

This version is the most honest I’ve ever been about my life. Not because I set out to be “brave”, but because it felt like the only way to tell it that made sense.

And that honesty didn’t happen all at once. It was a choice, over and over again.

To go a little deeper. To stay with something a little longer. To not edit myself just to make it more comfortable for others. I didn’t know, when I started, that I would end up here. But I’m really glad I did. Because for the first time, it doesn’t feel like I’m telling a version of my story.

It feels like I’m telling the truth of it.

I can’t wait for you to read it 🤍

JG

Here’s what mine looked like today:

With my busy schedule sometimes I blink and it feels like weeks have gone by. Practicing gratitude has not only helped slow down the time, but it also has made me feel so much lighter.

Dare I say gratitude is the secret to a meaningful life…?!

Try it out and tell me what you think, I hope it changes your day as much as it changed mine.

Jennie 🤍

For years, I thought maturity meant outgrowing that earlier self — becoming tougher, less sensitive, more efficient at handling life. But the older I get, the more I see how much wisdom lives in the parts of us that formed early on.

Your inner child is often the one holding your truest instincts.

She knows what lights you up. What drains you. What never really felt safe.

And when we ignore her for too long, life has a way of feeling heavier than it should.

Learning to nurture that part of myself has changed more than I expected — not necessarily in big ways, but in small easy to practice shifts.

Like these:

• Pay attention to what triggers you during the day. Those moments can point straight back to a younger version of you that still wants reassurance. Instead of brushing past it, get curious for a second.

• Reintroduce one small ritual you’ve outgrown but secretly miss. Not for productivity but for softness. (For me lately, it’s been simply holding my own hand.) It’s amazing what comes back when you allow a little gentle comfort.

• Catch the tone you use with yourself when something goes wrong. If it sounds sharper than you’d ever speak to someone you love, pause and adjust it in real time. That shift alone can change your whole nervous system.

• Build one pocket of “me time” into your week. Not earned. Not optimized. Just protected space where nothing is required of you.

What surprised me most is that this work doesn’t make you “woo woo” or fragile, it makes you more connected and steadier.

Nurturing your inner child isn’t about living in the past, it’s about finally becoming the person she has always needed you to be.

With love,

Jennie 🤍

It’s been so interesting to watch my daughters develop their own personal style. Each of them, Luca, Lola, and Fiona, have their own unique distinct voice when it comes to what they wear. Watching them develop that voice has inspired me to reflect on my own personal style, and how it’s shifted over the years.

Growing up on a farm in the midwest, I basically lived in denim — and honestly, that part hasn’t changed. I still love it. I was the baby of four girls and I had sort of a ‘tom boy meets girlie” vibe. I loved having my hair tied up in bows and slipping into a dress whenever I could, even when I was riding my pink Huffy bicycle through the fields. It’s funny… because even now, I feel most like myself when I mix that grounded, lived-in denim with something soft and feminine.

Between now and then, I have definitely experimented with my style. From leather outfits in the ‘90s, to 2000s animal print, and all the way to hammer pants in the 2010s, let’s just say I’ve tried out a lot of looks along the way…

But the older I get, and the clearer I feel about who I am, and who I’m becoming, it’s been key to identify what my personal style is. Because the truth is, we evolve. Our lives change. Our bodies change. What we need from our clothes changes too. But a lot of us are still standing in closets built for versions of ourselves we’ve already outgrown (I say this as I stare at a pair of my ‘10s hammer pants that each of my girls say I need to let go😩)

I’ve been trying to pay closer attention to what actually feels good, and what truly feels like me. That shift in awareness is honestly a big part of what led me to create Me by Jennie Garth.

Not because I think anyone needs more clothes, but because I do believe our closets should grow with us. Every woman deserves pieces that reflect who she is today, not just who she used to be.

Sometimes supporting your own growth looks really simple. It might just mean letting go of what no longer feels aligned… and making room for what does.

Has your personal style changed over the years? Or are there parts of it that have stayed true no matter what chapter of life you’re in? Tell me, I’m curious!

With love,

Jennie🤍

Check out Me by Jennie Garth

I wanted share what the last few months have really been like, now that writing my new book, I Choose Me: Chasing Joy, Finding Purpose & Embracing Reinvention, has slowed, and I’m able to catch my breath again. This post feels a little behind-the-scenes, the part peopled don’t usually talk about after a book is written, but I would love to share it with you all.

We’re still a ways from the official book launch, however it’s available now for preorder if you want to be the first to get your hands on it: click here. This book is incredibly meaningful to me, and I can’t wait to share my writing process over the month until you all get to have it in your own hands.

Writing isn’t just sitting down and typing, at least it wasn’t for me. It was remembering things I hadn’t planned on revisiting. A lot of this book came from remembering, letting old moments reappear without rushing past them, without editing or softening the edges. Just being honest about what happened and how it shaped me. And that honesty required more grace than I thought it would.

The work followed me everywhere. Pages came together in notebooks, on sticky notes, on planes, outside under the sun, in bed late at night or sometimes in the middle of the night… It felt less like “writing a book” and more like collecting pieces of myself I’d been carrying around for years, finally lining them up and saying, this all makes sense.

What surprised me more was how much emotional space it took. You don’t just walk through your own life like that and come out feeling unscathed. There are truths you face, behaviors you realize, experiences that somehow sting more the second time. There’s relief now, yes. And pride. And also this hum of nervous energy knowing people will step into these stories with me, and see me clearly, maybe differently.

I’ve written before, but this feels different. More complete. More Me. Every time I read it, I get emotional, not because it’s sad or heavy, but because I see now how far I’ve come, and I am so hopeful that it will spark reflections and symbols of growth in each and every one of you. I know how much growth this book represents. And I can feel how ready it is to meet the world.

Right now, I’m standing in that in-between space. Finished, but still tender. Coming down from full days of writing and reflection. Excited. A little exposed. And incredibly grateful I said yes to telling this story the way it is told.

I can’t wait for you to read it.

With love,

Jennie

Preorder Here!

Audio Book Here!

Signed Copies Here!

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