Breaking the Good Girl Mold with Lori Pappas – A Life Unscripted
Published: April 8, 2025
By: Mikita, Host of Thym 4 Tea with Mikita
Picture this: a steaming cup of tea in hand, a cozy corner, and a conversation that’s about to flip everything you’ve been taught about “being good” on its head & Breaking the Good Girl Mold. That’s what went down when I sat with Lori Pappas, a woman who didn’t just rewrite the rules—she torched the rule book and danced on the ashes. From surviving a childhood straight out of a horror flick to moving to Ethiopia in her 50s, Lori’s story is a masterclass in living loud and unapologetically. Here’s how it unfolded.
Mikita: Lori, let’s dive right in. So many of us grew up hearing, “Be a good girl, don’t make waves.” What’s your take on that?
Lori: Oh, Mikita, that phrase haunted me. I unpack it in my new book, The Magic of Yes, and it hit me hard: “good girl” means compliant, quiet, voiceless. It’s programming—shutting us down from the jump. I wasn’t about that life. Even as a kid, when my mom demanded I clean cupboards to impress Aunt Alice, I said, “If you want to look like a good housekeeper, you do it.” That didn’t go over well.
Mikita: Wait, hold up—how old were you when you dropped that truth bomb?
Lori: Thirteen. It was summer, my friend was over, and my mom locked us in the bathroom, shaking her finger, screaming I was the devil. Next day, she dragged me to the pastor’s office for an exorcism. They were dead serious about casting “the devil” out of me for talking back.
Mikita: That’s wild. How do you even process that as a kid?
Lori: You don’t—not fully. My body did the work for me. I started dissociating, watching life like a movie. Then they threw me in a mental institution in the ‘60s—lobotomies, shock treatments, the works. I was a guinea pig because my dad wouldn’t commit my mom. I got out in two months by playing their game, but it taught me: get out, take charge, or you’re done. So I bolted cross-country the next day.
Mikita: That’s next-level survival. Did that toughness carry you forward?
Lori: It did—double-edged sword, though. It built this armor nothing could pierce. I crushed it in a man’s world, built a business, sold it at 49, retired early. But I numbed everything—feelings, connection. My kids felt it; I wasn’t there emotionally. It wasn’t until my son’s accident in my 50s that I woke up. Sirens triggered me, and I realized: oh, this is PTSD. From him, sure, but also from my mom calling me the devil. That’s when the healing started.
Mikita: That shift is so real—trauma’s a beast. What flipped the script for you after that?
Lori: Ethiopia. At 57, I was done with an unhappy marriage, had my own money, and felt this pull to Africa. I’d been traveling there, and one day in the Sahara, a little girl with flies on her face—same age as my granddaughter—broke me open. I thought, “This could’ve been Ella, but for luck.” I moved to Ethiopia in 2007, worked with tribal women—think National Geographic vibes—and spent nearly a decade getting flies off kids’ eyes, building water projects, empowering women. It wasn’t reinvention; it was waking up.
Mikita: That’s breathtaking. What was the wildest moment over there?
Lori: Taking two tribal leaders, Gulu and Dobie, to the UN in 2015. They’d never seen a fork, asked if the sun in New York was the same as Ethiopia’s. We fought for funding, but when they got back, the elders beat Dobie and ostracized Gulu for daring to keep money women earned. I still wrestle with it—did I help or hurt? They call it a dream now, but it showed me: change is messy, and good intentions don’t always land right.
Mikita: That’s heavy. It’s like, you give someone a glimpse of another world, but the old one fights back. How do you see that now, at 75?
Lori: Nuanced. Back then, I thought it was black and white—my way or bust. Now, I know it’s about listening, reflecting. My purpose shifted to helping women find peace in their skin, tap into their wise woman within. We’ve all got wisdom; we just need to peel back the layers—be curious, seek knowledge, reflect. That’s how you turn life into power.
Mikita: I’m obsessed with that—“wise woman within.” What’s one thing you’d tell every woman to do, right now, to claim that?
Lori: Get self-aware. Know your triggers, your cards, your core. Shed the baggage and decide your moral compass. Weed your garden—choose who you let in, where you spend your energy. I want women in a circle of no fear, safety, happiness, deep peace. That’s the legacy I’m building.
Mikita: Lori, you’re dropping gems. Where can folks find you to keep this vibe going?
Lori: Easy—loripappas.com. My book The Magic of Yes is there, my Sticky Thoughts newsletter with stories of badass women, and my Facebook group, The Wise Woman’s Sisterhood. Join us—it’s a safe space to grow.
And there you have it—Lori Pappas, unfiltered. She’s proof that the life you crave isn’t out of reach; it’s waiting for you to stop playing small and start betting on yourself. Want the full scoop? Listen to the episode below and hear her voice light up these stories.
Your Next Step:
Dive into the full convo on Thym 4 Tea with Mikita Podcast, Episode [Number]—hit play now and let Lori’s fire spark yours. Then, drop a comment: How are you breaking the rules in a powerful way to plant seeds for the next generation? Whether it’s saying no to “supposed tos” or chasing a dream others can’t see, your rebellion could inspire the women coming up behind us. Let’s keep this circle growing.