I’m Burning the Beige and Reclaiming My Life

Autobiography of the Anti-BWB:  Trying to Overcome My Beige Era

I didn’t plan to slip into the Beige Era.   It wasn’t some overnight transformation.  It was quiet. Slow. Comfortable.  Like a cozy cardigan I didn’t remember putting on.

Suddenly, I was finding an excuse to head into Target—again.  Another vanilla-scented candle in my cart. A neutral-toned tumbler in my hand.  Leggings as pants. Hair in the classic messy bun.  And then I caught my reflection pushing the red cart…

I looked like every single woman I passed.

And that’s when I knew:
I was in trouble.

What Even Is the Beige Era?

It’s not about race or privilege or moms with bento box talents.  It’s about default mode—the slow, sneaky descent into a life that’s curated, but disconnected.

You stop pursuing. You start performing.
You stop creating. You start consuming.
You start believing… maybe this is it.

Aesthetic over authenticity.  Routine over risk.  Comfort over chaos.  Vanilla everything—but no flavor left in your actual life. And listen—I wasn’t all the way in the “BWB (Basic White B!tch) Era,”but I was definitely tiptoeing closer than I’d like. 

The Scariest Part?

It looks good from the outside.  You’re functioning.  You’re “busy”... but nothing real gets done.  You’re posting just enough to stay relevant—but not enough to be seen.  You’re working out—but not training.  You’re happy-ish.  Nothing’s wrong. You’re blessed.

But inside?
You’re starving.

For depth.
For danger.
For something real—and a little messy.
F*ck it. Completely messy to the point it’s borderline unhinged.

Something wild.  Something yours.

I don’t want to live beige.  I don’t want to be basic.  And I definitely don’t want to build a life that looks great on Instagram but feels hollow when no one’s watching.

I want to unplug from this hyper-curated, comparison-fueled digital world and be consumed by my beautiful, chaotic, imperfect AF life.

A life filled with deep belly laughs.  Leggings worn for training, not as a lifestyle.  A home that isn’t Instagrammable—but perfectly lived in.  If that makes sense, even a little, then maybe you’re with me.

Here’s what I’m doing:

1. Breaking Up with Reels: If it’s not teaching me, fueling me, or challenging me—I’m out.  I don’t need more 7-second dopamine hits. I need depth, stillness, substance.  So I’m deleting the apps: → Pinterest, LinkedIn, WhatsApp, Voxer, Instagram…Every app that distracts me from becoming.  If I want to post, I’ll do it from my laptop.   But I refuse to be available to distraction 24/7.

2. Writing My Own Plot:  Main character energy—no ghostwriter.  Journaling. Book writing. Documenting my thoughts before they’re polished.  Telling the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable.  I don’t know what the “right” platform is.  Maybe it’s a blog. Maybe it’s email. Maybe it’s a reel with intention.  Maybe it’s the start of a book called “Autobiography of the Anti-BWB: Skipping the Beige Era.”   Whatever it is—it’ll be mine.

3.  Training Like I Mean It:  No more aesthetic “movement.”  No more jumping on trends for matching Hokas and $150 weighted vests.  I’m lifting for longevity.  Sprinting for cardiovascular health.
Stretching so I’m mobile in my 70s—not stiff like a freshly scotchgarded pair of trousers.  Stronger, not smaller. That’s the mission.

4.  Reclaiming My Story:  I’m not just “a mom.”  Not just “a former ER vet.”  Not just “an author.”  Not just “an endurance athlete.”  Not just “building a business.”  I’m a woman rebuilding her life—muscle by muscle, word by word. 

I’m discovering what brings joy to my soul again—
→ learning a new language
→ playing a string instrument
→ falling in love with dancing
→ dreaming about food trucks I may or may not open

I’m doing it messy, loud, and off-script.

 If You’re In the Beige Era Too…

No shame.
It happens to the best of us.

Maybe, like me, you’re just barely toeing the line.  Maybe you’re already a few beige throw pillows deep.
Maybe you love the matching aesthetic—and that’s okay.

But if something inside of you is whispering:  “This isn’t it.”

If you feel like you’ve been playing small, staying safe, and losing your spark...

Maybe it’s time to burn the beige down.
Maybe it’s time to start over.
Louder.
Bolder.
More honest.
Less curated.

F*cking messy as all hell.

Because you weren’t made to blend in.  You were made to glow in the dark.

Grit + Gumption.

ALG ♥️