Picture this: It’s 2016, I’m pregnant with my first child, crisscrossing New York City in Ubers, trekking out to Jersey City, meeting clients over FaceTime when I couldn’t get to them in person. It wasn’t glamorous. It was chaotic, and often stressful. But that’s how Sarah Wragge Wellness became more than “a health thing,” which is how my former employer described it, not entirely approvingly. I didn’t set out with a grand plan. It became my mission slowly, almost without my noticing.
A few months into working with clients as a health coach, something in me settled. It felt right, even as I was still learning as I went—purging pantries, restocking them, trying to explain what good ingredients actually look like. I didn’t have all the answers. I simply wanted people to see how attainable it could be to eat well, once someone showed them how.
Eventually the work expanded beyond nutrition and pantry makeovers, largely because clients kept asking for more and I kept saying yes. I brought in trainers and chefs. I began building content and travel guides, curating menus for clients wherever they traveled. One thing led to the next, almost imperceptibly, and six months in, I was asking my full-time employer to ship my belongings home from the office. I couldn’t tell you the exact moment I decided not to go back. It simply became true.
The early years had their share of ups and downs, and I made a great deal of it up as I went. I spent little time studying what others in wellness were doing—not out of confidence, but because I had limited bandwidth to spare. I stayed close to whatever felt true in the moment. Somehow, one imperfect step at a time, that approach led me here, to a team I remain grateful for and, honestly, a little in awe of.
Being a founder—while also trying to be a present wife, mother, sister, friend, and some version of myself—has humbled me more than I can adequately express. There have been long stretches where I felt isolated, out of my depth, or quietly convinced I was failing at most of it. I don’t have a tidy answer for how to hold it all together. But two things feel a little truer to me now than they once did: (1) There’s no need to rush. Or at least, I’m learning to believe that. Things tend to happen when they’re meant to, even when it doesn’t feel that way in the moment. (2) And nothing is wasted. Even the meetings, the calls, the flights across the country for a single hour with someone—it all seems to fold back into the larger picture, eventually, in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.
I want to be clear that I haven’t resolved any of this. I’m still learning how to run a company, be there for my family, and care for myself, often within the same afternoon. I burn out more than I’d like to admit. What has changed, gradually, is that I’m better at recognizing when I need to slow down, and more disciplined about protecting the fundamentals—movement, family time, sleep, and nutrition I can rely on.
Most days, I get to help people feel more like themselves, and I still find it hard to believe that’s the work. The road hasn’t been straight, or paved, or even visible much of the time. I’m not certain it ever fully will be. But I keep moving forward, one uncertain step after another, more grateful for it than I probably let on.
Sarah Wragge
