The August Ugh is real. Let’s talk about it.

Hey ,

The other morning I was barefoot in the kitchen, eating watermelon straight off the rind like a feral raccoon on summer vacation. Juice dripped down my wrist, sweet and sticky, pooling at the curve of my elbow. No plate. No plan. Just vibes.

And in that moment, I felt it—
That low-grade hum of ugh.
Not quite burnout.
Not quite hunger.
Just… August.

That weird limbo where your body’s still riding the waves of summer but your brain has already packed its bag for September.

You know that feeling?

It’s that in-between season where your skin still smells like SPF and saltwater.
But your brain? She’s already panic-Googling productivity hacks and wondering if you need a new planner or a new identity.

“Should I be doing more?”
“Where did summer go?”
“Is it too late to become That Girl™?”

Meanwhile, Instagram is out here throwing its annual glitter parade of 30-day challenges, Virgo season checklists, and hot girl rebrands #3 through #17—
Like it’s New Year’s Eve in a straw hat.

And you?
You’re barefoot in the kitchen, juice running down your forearm, elbow-deep in a watermelon you didn’t bother slicing properly.

You’re not journaling. You’re not optimizing. You’re not making a vision board.

You’re just… standing there. Sticky. Staring out the window. Wondering if you missed your moment to become a whole new woman.

Spoiler alert:
You didn’t.

You’re not late.
You’re not behind.
You’re not missing anything.

You’re on the edge.

And the edge?
It’s holy ground.

The edge is where the air changes, just slightly.
That first whisper of fall brushing against your skin while the sun still swears it’s summer.

It’s where old energy exhales.
And new vision… stirs, quietly.

But before it even has a chance to rise, your nervous system pipes up:

“Can we not bulldoze this beautiful pause with another productivity sprint?”

And yet…
We reach.
For structure. For urgency. For seventeen new goals that might finally earn us our oat milk again.

Maybe, just maybe, you don’t need a master plan right now.

Maybe you just need…
a minute.

Not a 10-step glow-up.
Not a three-year vision board.
Just a beat. A pause. A watermelon-sticky, slightly unhinged moment where you breathe and ask:

What actually felt good this summer?
Like, truly good—in your body. Not just on paper.

What am I still dragging that should’ve been left back in June?
The guilt? The comparison? That half-finished habit tracker?

What do I need to forgive myself for not accomplishing?
And can I do it without making it another checkbox?

Because spoiler #2:
You probably didn’t wake up every day feeling like the main character.
You probably forgot your magnesium.
You probably didn’t summit the metaphorical mountain of your own potential.

That’s not a failure.
That’s called being human on Earth in August.

So instead of pushing harder, what if you softened?
Not quit. Not give up.
Just let go of the pressure to become someone else by Monday.

What if the boldest thing you did this month was not perform your glow-up?

What if you just… existed?

Watermelon juice on your wrist.
Inbox overflowing.
Dreams half-baked and still beautiful.

Messy. Sacred. Mid-transformation.

What if you let this moment be a landing, not a launchpad?
Not every season is for scaling.
Some are for simmering.

Letting the next version of you marinate quietly…
before you throw her back on the world’s stage with a fresh outfit and a new nervous system.

You don’t need to optimize this month. You just need to trust it.

You don’t need a new strategy. You need to remember who you are underneath all the hustle.

So, here’s your very official invitation:

👉 What are you craving more of right now?

Less pressure?
More clarity?
Structure that doesn’t feel like a punishment?

Hit reply and tell me. I read them all. (Usually while horizontal, with my laptop half-closed and a pimple patch on, but that’s neither here nor there.)

You’re not stuck.
You’re in transition.

You’re not broken.
You’re between breakthroughs.

You’re not lost.
You’re standing right on the edge of something holy.

Let’s stay here a moment.

Not rushing.
Not fixing.
Just noticing.

I'll see you on the flip side—
ripe, radiant, and not one bit late.

xx,
Genta

P.S. One of my readers recently said this newsletter feels like “a wellness sabbatical in email form.” If it made you breathe a little deeper, would you forward it to a friend who needs that, too?