My name is Becky. For a long time, my identity was a role I played.
On paper, I was the woman who had it all. By 27, I was a Director in digital advertising, clearing six figures and running on 80-hour weeks. My cardio was sprinting through Boston in heels to catch the last train home, often getting back after my daughter was already asleep. I was a cog in a wheel, chasing an unobtainable "balance" and slowly losing myself in the process.
The breaking point wasn't dramatic. It was a quiet, nagging question from the universe: "Is this it?"
I wanted to be a role model for my daughter, but the model I was showing her was a woman who was burnt out, stretched thin, and putting her own well-being last. I wanted her to grow up to be and do whatever made her feel passionate and alive. So, I had to ask myself why I wasn't doing the same.
I quit. And I started my own "emotional closet spring cleaning."
I dove headfirst into the one thing that always felt like therapy: movement. Pilates and barre became my sanctuary. It started as a way to reclaim my own sanity, but it quickly became a passion. I started teaching, obsessed with helping other women, especially moms, carve out that one sacred hour just for them.
That’s when I noticed a ripple effect. The confidence they found on the mat started showing up in their lives. Many of them had incredible side hustles and passion projects—hobbies that truly lit them up. I saw myself in them. And with my advertising background, I couldn't help but step in. I started helping them with their social media, their branding, and their confidence to show up and sell. I knew what it was like to build a business from your kitchen counter, and I wanted to help them win.
But the biggest evolution was happening behind the scenes.
For years, I had built a life and a brand as Mrs. Becky Parker. It was my Instagram handle, my domain, my identity.
Then, suddenly, I wasn't.
The end of my 15-year marriage was the final, non-negotiable shedding of an old skin. It was the catalyst that forced me to stop defining myself by my roles—wife, mom, instructor—and start excavating the woman at the center of it all. It was messy, painful, and absolutely necessary. It forced me to stop saying yes to things (and people) that didn't better me and to stop apologizing for taking up space.
I wasn’t just cleaning out my emotional closet anymore; I was rebuilding the whole damn house on a new foundation.
That foundation is The Becky Effect.
It’s not just a new name; it’s my life’s work finally under one roof. It’s the belief that showing up—truly, authentically, and bravely—changes everything. It’s the transformation that happens when you decide to build a business, a body, and a life that feels 100% like you.
It's the home for all the parts of me, and all the ways I can help you:
✨ The Brand Effect: Taking your business from hobby to powerhouse with branding and social strategy that feels like you.
🤸♀️ The Body Effect: Finding strength, joy, and community through Pilates, barre, and a little bit of wine.
🥂 The Life Effect: Real talk about motherhood, mindset, and the messy, hilarious, beautiful journey of being exactly who the fuck we’re meant to be.
So whether you’re here for the Pilates, the business strategy, or the dad jokes, know this: You are not "too much." You are not falling behind. And you are 100% capable of whatever it is you want to do.
Welcome to The Effect. I’m so damn glad you’re here.