Kait Tregenza spoke to Melody Lubin and the conversation on Becoming Flame was incredible. A small snippet is shared in this article, the whole conversation can be relished on the Becoming Flame Podcast.
“It feels so good… like being able to have my feet on the earth.”
There is something about that opening that feels almost too simple. Barefoot. Sun. Ocean. A life that, from the outside, could be mistaken for ease.
“It feels really medicinal.”
But this is not a story about ease. Because almost immediately, the illusion fractures.
“I just got to witness how not normal I am… like not normal at all.”
And there it is. The quiet confession that sits beneath so many women’s lives.
“Sometimes I’m like, can’t I just be normal?”
Not because she is unhappy. In fact, the opposite is true.
“I’m deeply satisfied… my days are filled with so much love and resonance… I get to wake up and go for a walk on the beach… I just get to exist as me.”
So the question is not about fulfilment.
It is about truth.
Because to live in a way that is yours requires something most women are not taught how to sustain. It requires you to look at your life and ask, with a level of precision that borders on ruthless,
Why am I doing what I’m doing?
“My values are nature… radical self-expression… integrity… honesty.”
And then the part that most people avoid.
“So what is that going to require of me?”
You don’t wake up one day and your life is yours.
“It’s a long journey… you don’t just wake up one day and your life looks and feels like it’s yours… it’s an everyday relationship.”
An everyday relationship with adjustment. With refinement. With removing what does not belong. Because the deeper truth is uncomfortable.
“We’re conditioned to live lives that aren’t ours… that we should want things that we don’t actually want.”
So the first act of power is not creation.
It is subtraction.
“No… knowing your no… if this is not what I want.”
But even this is not clean at first. Because no can be truth. Or no can be fear.
“A lot of my no came from survival.”
So the work shifts. It becomes more precise. More embodied. Where is this choice coming from? Protection or truth. Avoidance or alignment. Because saying no to everything is not freedom. It is just another form of hiding.
So then comes the harder edge.
“Yes… I want a bigger life… I want to show up for a bigger life.”
And that yes has to be honest.
“Once you move out of the survival body… that yes has to be so honest.”
Desire, from this point, is not indulgence. It is instruction.
“It holds intelligence… it’s like keys to doors that are locked in our soul.”
Not random. Not chaotic. Not whimsical: Specific.
“My desire to go and live in a certain place… it holds specific keys for my personal journey.”
This is where most women begin to negotiate. Because desire is inconvenient. It is illogical and often has no rationale.
“It asks me to pack up my life and move… and I’m like, okay, again.”
And yet, when it is true, the body does not resist.
“My body doesn’t find those things exhausting… but the moment that you’re trying to do the safe option… I have experienced deep fatigue.”
There is a clarity in that. The life that looks easier is not always lighter. The life that asks more of you is not always harder. And then we arrive at the place where most illusions are held in the modern world, around work, business, and general creation in the physical.
There is a narrative that femininity is flow. That it is passive. That it is waiting.
Melody does not entertain this at all.
“If you actually want to be building wealth… you’re going to need to integrate a part of you.”
Not hustle. Not grind. But honesty.
“It just asks you to get really honest about your internal landscape.”
Because the truth is confronting. You can want something. And not be meeting it.
“Where are you not meeting what’s being asked of you?”
This is where everything sharpens. Because wanting a life is easy. Being the woman who can hold that life is something else entirely.
“I couldn’t pay my rent… I couldn’t purchase groceries.”
There is no performance in the way she says it. No attempt to make it poetic.
“That was a year.”
A year of not knowing how it would work. A year of discomfort. A year of being stretched in ways that cannot be intellectualised.
“It was a lot of tears… a lot of tantrums… nearly wanting to stop and quit.”
And yet, she does not frame it as failure. She calls it initiation. Because it forced the only question that matters.
“How badly do I want this?”
Not as a concept. As a lived reality. Because when there is no money, no certainty, no external validation, you cannot pretend. You either meet what is being asked.
Or you don’t.
“I had to get really serious… how am I going to make this work?”
And this is where devotion begins. Not in inspiration. In responsibility.
“I don’t have any money, but I need a mentor… so how am I going to make that work?”
No fantasy. Just decision.
“What do I need… who can support me… how do I set myself up.”
A narrowing of focus.
“This was the sole focus.”
But perhaps the most confronting moment is not the lack of money. It is the collapse of identity.
“I had this idea that I was really committed… and then I realised I was not committed at all.”
That kind of honesty changes everything. Because it removes the story. And replaces it with evidence.
“There is nothing in my reality that shows that I’m a committed person.”
So the question becomes unavoidable. Where are you saying you want something…
…but not living in a way that matches it.
“Where is there a lack of resonance… between what I say I want and who I am being.”
This is embodiment.
Not language. Not branding. Not performance. Living in a way that reflects truth. And truth, in this space, is not personal.
“I don’t want to support you to build something that isn’t fully yours… it comes down anyway.”
Because anything built from misalignment cannot hold. It might rise. But it will not sustain. So the work becomes internal.
“It has to come from here.”
From the body. From the heart. Not from an idea of who you think you should be.
“It’s actually coming from the body… and we’re listening… taking each step.”
And then, finally, the understanding that reframes everything.
“Desire carves us… into who we need to be to have that desire.”
Not the other way around.
You do not become ready and then receive the life.
The life shapes you.
It stretches you.
It exposes you.
It demands more honesty than you thought you had.
So when you ask how she went from not being able to pay rent to holding a thriving business, the answer is not a strategy.
It is a process.
Carving.
Expansion.
Capacity.
“It’s the internal mastery… building my current so that I could expand more and hold more.”
Because life is not responding to what you want. It is responding to what you can hold.
And this is the point most women resist. Because it removes the fantasy. It removes the waiting. It removes the idea that one day it will just arrive. Instead, it asks something far more confronting.
Are you willing to see where you are not honest.
Are you willing to let go of what is not yours.
Are you willing to meet what is being asked of you.
Are you willing to be carved.
Because you cannot fake devotion.
And you cannot build a life that is yours without it.
