If you had told me at 25 that I’d start my own business at the age of 45, I would have laughed. Actually, I would have spit out my coffee. Well, not really. I didn’t drink coffee at 25.
At 25, I had just married my first husband. Looking back, part of that decision came from a belief that no one else would want to marry me. I didn’t think highly enough of myself to believe I had many options. I thought marriage would finally help me get my life together. The funny thing is, I never got my life together, and I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.
These days, I walk into networking events wearing bright blazers and talking to complete strangers. People often tell me I seem confident, outgoing, and energetic. Some even ask what my secret is. I never know how to answer that question. Because until fairly recently, I was probably the most insecure person in the room.
When I share pieces of my story with someone, something interesting happens. The moment they realize I don’t have everything figured out, they relax. They stop seeing me as someone who has all the answers and start seeing me as another human being trying to navigate life the best she can.
Then they tell me their story. They share the thing they’re struggling with, the fear they’re carrying, and the belief about themselves that they can’t seem to shake. Nothing fills my heart more than those conversations. They walk away feeling a little less alone and, somehow, so do I.
That’s what I want this blog to be. Not a place where I pretend to have all the answers or where I show up as a polished version of myself. I want to be a place for honesty and vulnerability. A place where we can talk about self-doubt, mistakes, growth, fear, courage, business, relationships, parenting, failure, and everything in between. I’ve been through enough hard things to know that hiding our struggles doesn’t make them disappear. Sharing them, however, has a funny way of making them lighter. My life has been a beautiful mess. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve believed things about myself that weren’t true. I’ve let fear make decisions for me. I’ve listened to my inner critic far longer than I should have.
But I’ve learned that being fierce has nothing to do with having it all figured out. Being fierce is telling the truth when it would be easier to hide. It’s being vulnerable when you’d rather build a wall. It’s getting back up after you’ve screwed up. It’s refusing to let your past, your mistakes, or your inner demons decide who you become. For a long time, I thought fierce looked like confidence. Now I think it looks a lot more like courage.
Welcome to my beautiful mess. Fair warning: I’m direct, I cuss, have a low tolerance for bullshit, and I’m almost always sarcastic. But if you’re looking for raw honesty, encouragement, and proof that imperfect people can build meaningful lives, you’re in the right place.
This is what being fierce looks like. And I’m glad you’re here.
