I’m a layered, self-reflective, intentionally-focused introvert.
Over twenty years working in a professional consulting marketing industry that rewarded the dominance of extroverts, I curated a collection of custom masks I could wear to exert the persona I knew I needed in any situation. I’m not inauthentic, but I am self-aware and understand what I need to navigate.
After five foundational years with marketing experience supporting regional development and a world-renowned healthcare institution, I started during the founding year of one of today’s top ranked Benefit corporations in the world and left on top with a track record of success that could rival anyone. Over twenty years, I had the resume, the influence, the money and rewards, and as a result – options. So, when I no longer had the same motivational drive, and could no longer bear to hold the branches of success that had been so fruitful for me, I chose to close a chapter; and in doing so, made the most difficult decision of my adult life.
I’m intensely self-aware. I’m irrationally competitive with myself. I crave independence yet survive with support.
Sometimes I cherish being alone, but I never feel lonely.
I fell in love years before the timeline of my master life plan outlined, and in that vulnerability, began a life journey that I am forever grateful to be on.
I have four beautiful boys, each being molded with their own unique textures who we love unconditionally and a dog who admittingly, comes with conditions.
I live with my tribe of six in a community of neighbors and parents of our boys’ friends who we now are thankful to call friends of our own. I feel safe, yet I am profoundly guarded with my vulnerability because I believe relationships – deep, long-lasting ones, take time.
I have real, authentic deep-rooted friendships from elementary school four decades in the making, and college friends who despite time and distance, pick up from where we last left.
I have a tight knit extended family who show up for each other – we celebrate life’s successes and mourn together in grief. We respect our parents’ unending influence and show our love through action.
I’m becoming more comfortable in my own skin, and granting myself permission to own it.