I've always been a creator—of dreams, of ideas, of safe places.

Since I was a little girl, I’ve been cutting out magazine clippings for vision boards, sketching storefronts, writing business plans, and rearranging rooms like tiny museums. I chased dreams with summer lemonade stands and a grown-up sense of purpose. I’ve always worked, always saved, always imagined what could be next.

But nothing shapes you quite like loss. After losing my husband three years ago, everything cracked wide open. Life slowed down and sped up all at once. Time became sharper. More sacred. You stop waiting to start. You stop pretending that “someday” is good enough.

Now, more than ever, I want my work to matter. I want a return on impact — not just profit. A life full of meaning, connection, and purpose. A life where what I build gives back to my family, to my community, and to the people I serve. I want my son, Jack, to know that our story didn’t end—it just turned a page.

You’ll usually find me reading on the beach, exploring thrift stores that smell like the ’70s, listening to live music under string lights, or taking long road trips with my Boxer, Sunny Ray. I dream of owning a vintage Bronco, investing in my own short-term rental, and someday running a renovated boutique hotel out West or near the coast—a place where I’d live onsite, curate unforgettable stays, hand you a cold beer at check-in, and make sure the music is right and the beds feel like home.

The next chapter is mine to write—full of boldness, creativity, connection, and heart.