Member since March 2026
I build rooms where people wake up a little.
I’m not a guru and I don’t have it all figured out—but the things I have figured out, I care deeply about giving away.
These conversations are experiential by design. No checking email in the back row. No polite nodding.
People lean in. They laugh when they recognize themselves in my stories. And usually, there’s at least one quiet moment of: “Oh… damn. Me too.”
I talk about leadership, burnout, boundaries, personal responsibility—and yes, mental health—but not in a way that feels clinical or precious. Emotionally healthier humans make better leaders, teammates, partners, and parents. That’s not therapy. That’s just true.
This isn’t about motivation. It’s about capacity.
People don’t leave saying, “That was inspiring.”
They leave saying, “Okay. I know what I need to do next.”
Escaping the messy middle through growth and community and failure. I love gathering people in my kitchen or arenas to share with them my own struggles and messy moments as a woman in leadership to give them permission to be where they are in their story and keep going with grit and a few new tools in their tool belt.
Resilient Leaders are in therapy. I love talking about how I started and believed I could compartmentalize my life. Healthy leaders are whole, healthy people. And that required something I didn’t have until after therapy. Which was the ability to look at myself first, with grace and humility but to be accountable and then do better.
I started as a single mom who faked her way into most rooms. Now, more than fifteen years in as an entrepreneur who has sold a company and still sits as the chairwoman of the board of an iconic southern brand, Good Grit: I’m ready to share the messy truth of what success really costs. It’s time to give away the hard learned lessons and talk aloud about the journey from faking it to actually making it.
Resilient Leaders are in therapy. I love talking about how I started and believed I could compartmentalize my life. Healthy leaders are whole, healthy people. And that required something I didn’t have until after therapy. Which was the ability to look at myself first, with grace and humility but to be accountable and then do better.
I started as a single mom who faked her way into most rooms. Now, more than fifteen years in as an entrepreneur who has sold a company and still sits as the chairwoman of the board of an iconic southern brand, Good Grit: I’m ready to share the messy truth of what success really costs. It’s time to give away the hard learned lessons and talk aloud about the journey from faking it to actually making it.
