Can I take you behind-the-scenes for a look at a mix of personal and professional updates from Las Vegas, friend?
PART ONE: PERSONAL, DEAR LUNA…
It’s our annual tradition: We return to the place where we found each other, the meridian lines of our hearts intersecting, finally.
One of our first photos together was on this bench.
Your dad asked me to sit in the light while he snapped a photo.
We nervously took you downstairs, in a blanket freshly washed by the housekeeping team, and watched as the valet assembled your car seat.
The chefs baked you a cake, the front desk delivered a bottle of champagne, the concierge gave you a teddy bear.
All of these strangers, gathered together to welcome you into our lives.
They say the adoption process can be lonely, but your bright light of a soul called to us, inviting in an openness amongst strangers.
Much like the moon, you drew us all into your orbit. Our sweet Luna 🌙
This year, when we arrived to the Four Seasons Las Vegas, we were greeted with, “Welcome home…”
And it was. For the first month of your life, that hotel was home.
Luna Sol, never forget the power of the light inside you, and the way you inspire others into generosity.
When we took our first photo, your dad asked me to sit in the light.
Little did we realize that we no longer had to sit in the light… we had found the light.
In you.
hank you for making us a family on 02.02.20. We love you.
PART TWO: PROFESSIONAL, DEAR LUNA…
We held each others’ hands and I told you, “Look what girls can build,” as I pointed to the Acquisition building, where Leila Hormozi sits as CEO.
I kissed you goodbye at the hotel earlier that morning, and I set out to interview Leila, but promised you that you’d join me later.
As the afternoon set against the Red Rocks skyline in the Nevada desert, I saw you and daddy pull into the parking lot.
You hopped out of the car and high-fived me. You had no idea who I had just interviewed, what the conversation meant to me, or how impactful I believed it would be to those who would watch it.
You were just happy to be there, with me, holding hands.
But I didn’t want you to miss it, the reality of how big girls could dream. Billion dollar dreams, BIG.
That big, baby girl.
Thank you for leading me to the right place, all at the right time.
P.S. I write these letters to my daughter and though I realize they are deeply personal, I hope you take a piece of them for yourself too. I do, however, acknowledge the difficulty of believing in dreams, especially billion dollar dreams. You’re not alone. We ALL struggle with this at times, so if you want to >>listen to<< or >>watch an 18-minute podcast<< on My 3 Steps to Rewiring Beliefs, I deeply know it’ll push you in the right direction.
