Three years ago I set out to write my first book. A life goal I have had since I was a child.

Mark and Tiffany Baker were doing something I couldn’t stop thinking about, and I wanted to understand it well enough to put it on a page. I also had a bucket list item with a clock on it: write a book before I turned 40. The two things converged. I asked the Bakers more than once to let me tell their story. When they finally said yes, I had no idea what I was actually getting into.

What followed was not what I planned. It never is.

New here? Start with my story.

The book became a business. The research became a relationship. The interviews were done after the first year but the story wasn’t ready, because I wasn’t ready. I spent another year honing in on my writing, my voice, my business, my own sense of what I was actually trying to say. There were moments I wondered if I’d ever get there.

The Bakers never questioned it. “We have faith in you,” they said. And they meant it. That matters more than I can explain. It provided me the freedom to explore, learn, and grow into this new version of myself.

But here’s what I didn’t expect. To tell their story well, I had to get my own house in order first. The writing had to be compelling, yes. But so did the life behind it. I couldn’t write honestly about two people who had built everything around their values, their talents, their vision — and not ask myself whether I was doing the same. Whether the work I was putting into the world was aligned with who I actually was. Whether it worked for my life.

It wasn’t. Not yet. So I rebuilt.

A mentor once described me as someone who wants to make an impact. He was right. That’s what this book is. And the truest validation I can think of is that telling the Bakers’ story inspired me to build my own. That’s impact working exactly the way it’s supposed to, one story lighting a fire in the next person, who lights a fire in the next.

Their mantra has a permanent residence in my mind.

Once you hear it it’s hard to ignore. I couldn’t keep writing about it without asking myself whether I was actually living it. So I restructured everything. I kept building. I kept creating. I made sure the work I was putting into the world was something I was proud of. Something authentic to me. Something that made my minutes count.

If you’re a creator, an entrepreneur, a mission-driven human who is striving to do the same — you already know the messy middle I’m talking about. The part where you’re too far in to go back and not far enough along to see the finish line. The part where you’re building the thing and living the thing and questioning the thing all at the same time. That’s where I’ve been. That’s where a lot of us live.

Watching the Bakers do what they did doesn’t just inspire you. It changes the way you see your own life. It makes the messy middle feel less like a detour and more like the point.

It is a messy, beautiful life. And I am still very much in the middle of it. Each year brings something new and exciting to figure out.

Own Every Minute is a narrative biography — the story of two real people who made a real decision and followed it all the way through. It is reported and researched and told with as much honesty as I know how to bring to someone else’s life.

The memoir is something else. That one is mine. It’s coming next, with a framework to guide you through doing exactly what the Bakers did, for your own life. On your own terms. In a way you’re proud of. Authentic to you.

I turned 40 and kept writing. It turns out the bucket list item was just the beginning.

Stay tuned friends. It’s about to get fun. 🤩

Before you go — something special this month.

March is Women’s History Month, and I’ve been spending it sitting with the stories of working mothers. Not the highlight reel. The real one — the tension, the trade-offs, the moments of clarity that don’t always make it into the polished narrative.

We started with my story. Then Jenn’s. And this week, more are coming.

The Working Mom Series is live, and I’d love for you to be part of it. Stay close.

Erin Gregory is the founder of Erin Gregory Creative, a strategic communications and brand consultancy serving mission-driven organizations. She writes Communicating with Purpose on Substack and hosts Notes from the Messy Middle, a podcast exploring meaningful work, pivots, and the messy reality of building something that lasts. She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her three daughters.