We were lucky to catch up with Wendy Posillico recently and have shared our conversation below.

Wendy, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today So let’s jump to your mission – what’s the backstory behind how you developed the mission that drives your brand?

I’m the coach I wish I had.

The voice I longed to hear at age 10—when something lit up inside me and I dared to believe I could become a professional athlete. Back then, it was tennis. Chris Evert. Tracy Austin. Big dreams for a little girl in a big Italian family on Long Island.

My mom found me a top coach—Tony Palafox, who worked with John McEnroe—and I poured everything into the game. I’ll never forget the day McEnroe watched me hit. For a moment, I believed I might be good enough. But life shifted. Six kids. Limited resources. The dream faded fast. One or two years, and it was over.

No one held space for it. No one fought to keep it alive. But that moment planted a seed.

In high school, I believed my only way into college was through sports. I didn’t think I was smart enough—I never broke 1000 on the SATs. I went on to play Division I lacrosse, captained my team, and helped lead us to #8 in the country. Even then, I knew there was untapped potential inside me. But I never had that coach who truly saw what I was made of.

After college, I drifted—multiple jobs, a master’s from NYU—still unsure how to use my gifts. I was doing everything I was supposed to do, but I felt disconnected. Like something was missing. Then, one day at 28, my dad asked me to hit a golf ball. I didn’t even like golf. But I hit it—and something clicked.

“Why don’t you give this game a shot?” he said. So I did.

At 29, I chased a new dream: professional golf. No sponsors. No roadmap. Just relentless belief. I trained, traveled, failed, got back up, and learned that talent isn’t enough. What matters is mindset. Identity. Knowing who you are when no one’s watching.

Then came another crossroads. I was 40. Single. And all my life, I had wanted six kids. At 35, I wanted to freeze my eggs. The doctor told me, “Go find a man.” So I waited. Believed. Five years later—still no husband, no kids.

Then baby Whitney was born. My niece. Diagnosed with cancer. I was in the NICU, holding her tiny body as she fought for her life. And I thought: Where am I fighting for mine?

That moment changed me. I decided I would become a mom, no matter what. Even if I had to do it alone. I meditated, visualized, found the best doctors, and stayed in alignment with what I believed was possible. And on December 25, 2012, my daughter, Josephine June, was born.

I’m one of the lucky ones. A late bloomer as an athlete. A mom without a husband. It could’ve easily gone another way. But I chose belief. I chose grit. I chose to write my own story.

Because that’s what we’re all here to do. We each have a calling, something only we can walk toward. It doesn’t always make sense at the beginning. But when you follow it, you uncover who you truly are.

That’s the heart of Live Your June. This just a coaching practice—it’s a movement. For athletes, parents, leaders, dreamers. It’s for the athlete who once felt invisible. The mom starting over. The entrepreneur building from scratch.

It’s about waking up what’s already inside you—and stepping into your bold, intentional, powerful self. Because dreams don’t expire. And you don’t have to wait for tragedy to wake up.

We all have a gift. We all have a June to live. And it’s our responsibility to live it, so we can leave a bold imprint on those who come next.

This isn’t just coaching. This is Soulstigation.

Wendy, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Before launching Live Your June, I spent much of my life listening to naysayers and waiting for the “right” moment. But my 1-year-old niece Whitney’s fight with cancer—her spirit, her strength—reminded me of something deeply important: living into your unique gifts is the greatest gift you can give the world. When you take full responsibility for who you are, you leave a bold, intentional imprint on the generations to come.

Though Whitney’s time here was short, she woke me up. She taught me to stop waiting, to live with purpose, and to step into my full potential. That’s the essence of Live Your June. It’s about owning who you are and daring to live into that truth—because when you do, you change not only your life, but the lives of those around you.

Live Your June is not about one-size-fits-all self-help. What sets us apart is our focus on deep connection to self. I guide people to align with who they are and what they want—through practical tools, movement, and self-awareness. My approach blends structure with flow, commitment with compassion.

We work with ambitious individuals, teams, and organizations through private and group coaching, leadership development, and transformational retreats. The goal: to help you step beyond your comfort zone and into your calling.

I don’t have your answers—only you do. But together, we can uncover them. Baby Whitney inspired me to fight for the life I truly wanted. That’s why I’m here: to help you do the same.

At the heart of Live Your June is the belief that inner work is the key to unlocking potential. Whether you’re a CEO, a teacher, a parent, or a coach how you lead yourself shapes how you lead others.

We’re all here to make an imprint in our own unique way. It’s about embracing who you are, challenging limits, and daring to live fully. When we take responsibility for living into our best selves, the ripple effect is limitless.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

As I mentioned, I was one of the lucky ones. I was a late bloomer and became a single mom at age 40 without a husband. Sadly I know a lot of women that never met a life partner and let the dream of a family go.

My journey to becoming a mom wasn’t easy and I was met with plenty of roadblocks. That’s what resilience is to me. It’s just about pushing through. It’s about fiercely protecting your belief when everything and everyone around you tempts you to give it up.

I’ll never forget sitting across from one of the top IVF doctors in the world. I had just begun the process of trying to have a baby on my own—no partner, blocked fallopian tubes, a mountain of unknowns—and he looked me straight in the eye and asked, “Have you thought about using an egg donor?”

I had barely started the journey, and already he was questioning whether I could.

In that moment, I wanted to crumble. I turned to the nurse and asked, “Why am I paying for this if he doesn’t believe in me?” She quietly said, “Ignore him.” But I couldn’t. Not really.

I left that office shaken, and that night I had a decision to make: Was I going to let doubt take over, or was I going to rise?

That’s when everything shifted. I made a vow that only people who believed in me were allowed in my energy field. No more doubt. No more negativity. If you didn’t support my dream, you didn’t get a seat at the table. Period.

I dove in. I worked with a holistic doctor. I did acupuncture. I meditated, moved my body, ate clean, and visualized the life I knew was meant for me. Every night, I placed a picture of my dad on my chest and imagined him guiding me. I held onto faith tighter than ever.

And I’ll never forget when they transferred those two embryos into my body. I could see her. I could feel her.

My daughter Josi was due the exact day we buried my dad, but she came on Christmas Day, his favorite holiday.

The odds were stacked against me: no partner, no home, blocked tubes, doctors who doubted, and family who feared. But I never gave my energy to that. I stayed the course. I chose belief over fear.

That journey taught me that sometimes, YOU are the only one who needs to believe. And that’s enough to change your life.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

The second story of resilience starts with friction. My dad and I had a complicated relationship. Big personalities, lots of love, but also deep misunderstanding. Like clockwork, every year we’d have a massive blowup. It was exhausting.

But one year, something shifted. I had started doing deep personal work, really looking at myself and owning my role in our dynamic. I stopped blaming. I wrote him a letter for Valentine’s Day and poured my heart out. I told him I was sorry for my part and that he was the best dad. His only response: “I got your letter. Thank you.” No “I love you.” No warmth. Just acknowledgement.

But something in me had changed.

Later that year, I did the Landmark Forum. One assignment was to confront a relationship where you were being inauthentic. My dad was the one. So I called him. I apologized again, this time out loud—for judging him, for expecting him to be someone else, and for how I made our relationship harder. From that moment, something softened between us.

He asked me to come home early for Christmas. I did. We held hands. He told me he loved me.

And then on December 21st, the night of our annual holiday party, I came home to the smell of potato pancakes and my niece running up the stairs to say hi to Grandpa. Moments later, I heard a scream.

He was gone. I ran upstairs and saw my mom doing CPR. My dad died in our home, surrounded by family, just days after telling my brother, “If anything happens, take care of the girls.”

We buried him on Christmas Eve. The impact he made became so clear in the stories told at his funeral. He lived HIS way. Fully. Boldly. With love.

And even though we had our battles, my dad is the impact. He may not have known how to believe in me in a conscious way, but he pushed me to stand up for what I believed in and what I wanted. That was his gift to me. And now, I teach my daughter the same thing. Past generations shape us. They allow us to live into who we were born to be.

Because I’ve done this work—because I’m doing it still—I was able to take action. To say the things. To write the letter. To come home early. You never know what tomorrow will bring. I was one of the lucky ones: I shared my truth before he passed.
After his funeral, I stayed in New York with my family for a bit, but grief hit hard. Within a month, I knew I had to return to Arizona and keep going. I had just moved into a new apartment—no furniture, just boxes. I sat in that space alone and cried for two days, listening to “My Way.”

He did it his way. And so would I.

I didn’t make it to the LPGA Tour that year, but I didn’t quit either. That journey gave me the grit to pursue motherhood on my own. It laid the foundation for Live Your June. It gave me the courage to lead.

That loss and heartbreak became part of my strength. Because resilience isn’t about avoiding the fall. It’s about rising. Again and again. It’s about choosing to keep going, even when it hurts.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://liveyourjune.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/liveyourjune
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/liveyourjune
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/company/live-your-june
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@liveyourjune
• Other: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/journey-to-june/id1665777594