I still remember the moment like it was yesterday. My husband walked into the room and said, “We’re going to do a podcast.”
“Who?” I asked, completely thrown off.
“You and me,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
And just like that, Wheeler in the Morning with Dave and Candace Rae was born.
At the time, we were barely a week out from him losing his job—a career in radio spanning over 20 years gone in an instant. Bills needed to be paid, and he needed to keep doing what he loved, what he was born to do. So, with zero hesitation on his part and a ton of hesitation on mine, we dove in headfirst.
Those first 18 months were a whirlwind. The show grew, and while its name and format changed in the years to follow, those early days were unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
Let me tell you, I was terrified.
Sure, I’d been a guest on shows before, popping in for a quick chat or adding a little fun. But this? Five days a week, every week, in front of an audience that could judge my every word and every stumble? It felt like walking into a lion’s den.
You see, I’d spent years as a model. My job was to show up, look polished, and get the job done. Behind the camera, I was confident. But in front of a microphone, spilling my thoughts, sharing my truths? That was something else entirely.
Social media didn’t help. Instagram was at its peak of perfectly curated feeds and flawless aesthetics. I didn’t know how to be anything other than polished. The idea of showing up imperfectly—pronouncing a word wrong, fumbling over my thoughts—made me feel less than.
But we did it anyway. Day one turned into day two, then week one, and before I knew it, we’d recorded over 1,000 episodes!!
That podcast wasn’t just a way to make ends meet; it became a lifeline. The parts of me I wasn’t ready to confront. And in the process, I learned something incredible: people weren’t looking for perfection. They wanted honesty, connection, and realness.
What I didn’t expect was the community that formed around us. They didn’t just show up for the content; they showed up for us. They supported Dave from the very beginning, and by extension, they supported me too!
The experience wasn’t easy. Doing a daily podcast with your husband means you’re bound to encounter truths—about him, about yourself, about your relationship. Some days, it was exhilarating; other days, it felt like standing in front of a mirror I wasn’t ready to face.
If I could go back and tell myself anything, it would be this: Breathe. It’s okay not to be perfect. It’s okay to stumble, to feel vulnerable, to not always have the right words. Showing up isn’t about grace; it’s about courage.
It was the beginning of a new me.
