02/08/2026
For most of my life, I thought my confidence came from knowing who I was.
But over the past few years, I’ve realized something truer—and harder to admit.
My confidence was built in opposition.
I grew up with a father whose approval was hard to come by. Nothing was ever quite enough. And so I learned—without realizing it—how to generate my own fire. I chose a life he wouldn’t have chosen. I lived boldly. I built a business. I led with conviction.
Part of my light came from proving, even if I never called it that.
Then my dad died.
And in the years that followed, my life didn’t fall apart in the ways people expect—but my sense of self quietly did.
I began questioning my work, my voice, my worth. The confidence I once had felt inconsistent, like it dimmed no matter how much I tried to get it back.
What I understand now is this:
When an external authority disappears, the internal one often gets louder.
And when your identity has been shaped—even unconsciously—around approval or resistance, grief doesn’t just break your heart. It reorganizes your foundation.
Around the same time, I found myself leaning—almost without effort—into my relationship with God.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not with answers.
But with surrender.
When I could no longer prove my way forward, I started listening.
When my old sources of certainty stopped working, I began asking different questions.
Who am I when no one is watching?
What does it mean to be led, instead of constantly leading?
Where does my worth actually come from?
I wasn’t losing my light.
I was being asked to stop performing it.
This season has been about learning how to stand in my truth without needing approval—living or dead.
How to lead without adrenaline.
How to trust God more than my need to be impressive.
And that has changed how I show up in every area of my life—my relationships, my business, and the spaces I now create for others.
What I’m building now doesn’t come from force or proving.
It comes from presence.
From faith.
From a deep trust that what is meant to move through me will—without pushing.
If you’ve ever felt like grief, transition, or loss has made you smaller, I want you to hear this:
You’re not shrinking.
You’re being re-rooted.
And when your roots go deeper—into truth, into God, into trust—
what grows may be quieter…
…and it’s unshakeable.
This is the leadership I’m standing in now.
If you’re ready to launch your next chapter—without force, without performance, and with deep trust in yourself—Launch opens tomorrow.