I grew up in Minneapolis, the oldest of two daughters. My parents both came from humble beginnings—my mom from a hardworking family that had to stretch every dollar, and my dad working his way through college and medical school with nothing handed to him.

From an early age, I absorbed their relentless work ethic, their moral compass, and their deep commitment to building a better life. My dad was a doctor, but also a dreamer—a serial entrepreneur and inventor who believed anything was possible. I watched him build business after business, always starting with a big idea and the belief that with the right structure, it could work. That belief stuck with me.

So did the tension that often comes with holding a lot. As the oldest, I felt a strong sense of responsibility. I was the protector, the performer, the one who held things together. I was also the tomboy running around in the dirt with the neighbor boys, tipping cows and crawling through corn silos. I didn’t fit into the usual mold. And honestly, I still don’t.

In high school, I had major jaw surgery that left me wired shut and bruised. Kids called me “The Joker.” I was teased and made fun of—and yet, somewhere in all of that, I learned how to keep going, to hold my head high even when it hurt, and to find my way back to confidence on my own terms.

Looking back now, that resilience became one of my superpowers.

I studied engineering because I was good at math and science. But it didn’t feel like home. I shifted into operations, media, and strategic roles—eventually finding myself leading large teams at organizations like National Geographic and PBS. I was the one people came to when things felt messy, chaotic, or misaligned. I had a reputation for protecting my team. I kept the drama out. I made things work.

But there came a moment—after years of being the calm in everyone else’s storm—when I looked around and realized I was exhausted. The mission no longer aligned. I couldn’t keep carrying all of it. So I walked away from a safe, respected corporate path and started my own business.

At first, I took whatever clients I could. But it didn’t take long to remember who I really wanted to serve—mission-driven leaders who care deeply, but feel overwhelmed and under-supported.

People who built something real, but now feel disconnected from it. People who, in many ways, remind me of the ones I’ve always rooted for.

I’ve always had a soft spot for people on the edge of something great. The ones with the heart, the talent, and the vision—but who just need the right structure to get out of the weeds and lead with clarity again. I see leaders who aren’t broken, just buried—and I’ve made it my mission to help them rebuild the business they were always meant to run.

That’s why I do what I do.

I help visionary CEOs create calm in the chaos. I build structure that works. And I bring a steady hand to businesses that need to breathe again.

But I’m not just here to organize systems. I’m here to help you feel like you again—to reconnect with your business, your team, your time, and your purpose.

Because what I’ve learned over and over is that structure isn’t restrictive—it’s what creates the space for real freedom.

And when you build a business that runs without you carrying every piece of it? You get your life back.

That’s the freedom I’m here to help you create.