In 2018, I went to France for the first time in a decade. At the time, I was deep in the exhaustion of early parenthood, running a business, and trying to be everything for everyone. I didn't realize how much of myself I had been giving away until I found myself alone in a country where I could just be. I called that version of myself “France Kinzie”—someone who was spacious, present, confident, and deeply in tune with herself. That trip cracked something open in me. It set off a massive shift, leading me to reimagine what my relationships could look like, how I wanted to exist in the world, and what I actually needed to feel whole.
This past fall, I returned to France for the first time since that life-altering trip. And I wondered: What will this trip change for me? Because if history had taught me anything, it was that France had a way of shaking things loose.
At first, it felt like nothing was shifting. I was in a familiar place, speaking the language, moving through the world with ease. But this time, I wasn’t in France just for myself—I was there to work. I had been hired to document a rest and restoration retreat, capturing portraits and documenting the experience of the attendees. And while the retreat was built around deep care and relaxation, I was in full work mode, moving from one event to the next, shooting for hours each day. The days were long, sometimes 12 to 14 hours straight, and even though there were quiet moments—meals, yoga sessions, hikes in the ancient woods—I was always “on.”
Then, a storm knocked out power and internet in the tiny town where the retreat was held. The power came back quickly, but my internet never did, which meant the work I had planned to keep up with while I was there? Completely impossible. I had scheduled my workload under the assumption that I’d be able to work remotely, tying up loose ends, sending emails, and staying on top of editing in between shoots. But instead, I was stuck.
By the time I got home, I was already behind. And I had made the classic mistake of past Kinzie overbooking future Kinzie. My schedule was packed for the next several weeks. There was no breathing room, no space to recover, just a constant stream of work that needed to be done yesterday. And then came the jet lag—something I had never really dealt with before, but now, at 37, was hitting me like a brick wall. I was waking up at 3 or 4 a.m., unable to get back to sleep, running on fumes but feeling like I had no choice but to keep pushing forward.
And despite everything I know—that rest is necessary, that burnout is not a badge of honor—I found myself believing I didn’t deserve rest until I had caught up. That I had done this to myself, so I had to muscle through it. That I just needed to try harder.
But that’s not how it works.
Eventually, I had to admit that the pace I was moving at wasn’t sustainable. (Hear all about it in this exceptionally tender episode of the podcast—there’s a Part 2, too.) I started reaching out to the people I felt I was letting down, explaining where I was at and asking for some grace. And without fail, every single person responded with kindness. They reminded me that I wasn’t a machine, that things happen, that I could take the time I needed to get back on my feet.
And finally, I let myself pause.
I went to a music festival, where I danced and journaled and stared at the moon. I started noticing what actually made me feel good, not just what I thought I should be doing. I built systems that worked with my brain instead of against it—like scheduling walk-and-talks with friends so I’d actually move my body, or blocking off time to edit photos immediately after a session so the task never became an overwhelming weight on my to-do list.
And slowly, everything started to click into place.
I realized that all this time, I had been waiting for France to change me. But France didn’t do anything. I did.
And maybe that’s the real lesson: Growth doesn’t always come in the big, cinematic moments. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet, stubborn decision to build a life that actually supports you. It’s in choosing to be honest about where you’re at. It’s in asking for help, in making space for joy, in refusing to let exhaustion become your default.
And it’s in finally believing that you deserve rest—not when the work is done, not when you’ve “earned” it, but simply because you do.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned through all of this? Growth doesn’t happen in isolation. It happens in community, in spaces where you can practice showing up fully as yourself—without the pressure to have it all figured out.
That’s exactly what we create in The Empowerment Experience, and we’re welcoming new members from Kansas City, Missouri or Kansas or all over the place right now! It’s a guided journey designed to help you take up space in your own life, reconnect with yourself, and build the kind of confidence that lasts far beyond a photoshoot.
If this resonated with you and you’re wondering what it would feel like to have a space where you can grow, explore, and be supported along the way, we’d love to chat. Send us a DM on Instagram, shoot us an email, or reach out through the contact form on our website. 💛
