
The road that found me.
I've always wanted to understand how things are built.
Long before I understood business, I was fascinated by creation — how ideas become real, how pieces come together, and how something that exists only in someone's imagination becomes something the world can experience.
I was the kid climbing onto roofs with a hammer, taking things apart just to understand them, and following curiosity wherever it led.
That curiosity never left.
It simply changed shape.
That road became my guide.
For several years, I lived differently than most people expected.
I packed what I needed into a two-door Mini Cooper convertible and traveled across the country, moving through more than thirty-five states and calling tents, yurts, domes, campers, tiny houses, and borrowed spaces home.
I wasn't searching for an escape.
I was learning.
Every place taught me something. Every conversation gave me a new perspective. Every experience showed me another way people create lives that feel meaningful.
The road became a teacher.
It taught me to pay attention.


The pattern became obvious.
I spent years working alongside talented, capable people building businesses they cared deeply about.
I saw vision. I saw creativity. I saw people pour their energy, intelligence, and hearts into something they believed in.
I also saw what happened when the structures underneath those businesses no longer supported the people inside them.
The businesses were growing.
But the relationship between the person, the work, and the business was becoming harder to sustain.
And I couldn't stop noticing.

This question stuck with me.
After leaving my last corporate role, I knew what I could do.
I understood operations. I knew how to build systems. I knew how to translate complexity into clarity.
But I also knew I wanted to work differently.
I wanted to work with people whose businesses were expressions of something meaningful — people who wanted their work to support their lives, not consume them.
The question became:
What would it look like to build businesses that help people flourish?

The answer came slowly.
Rebel Road did not arrive fully formed.
It emerged through years of experience, reflection, study, and paying attention.
Around the same time I was questioning everything about the way I worked and lived, I discovered Kundalini yoga and trauma-informed practices.
For the first time, I saw the connection between the systems we create externally and the systems we carry internally.
Our businesses are not separate from us.
​Our decisions, relationships, energy, and capacity all shape what we build.
The work became less about creating something new.
And more about uncovering what was already there.
The becoming of Rebel Road.
Today, I bring all of those roads with me.
The years spent building systems.
The years spent traveling.
The analytical training.
The quiet mornings with my journal.
The yoga mat.
The questions.
The mistakes.
The wonder.
None of those experiences stand apart from one another anymore.
They became Rebel Road.


How it all fits.
Rebel Road is where everything gets to meet.
The analytical mind.
The creative instinct.
The systems experience.
The curiosity that took me everywhere.
The practices that brought me back to myself.
The practices that brought me back to myself.
I didn't invent this path.
I followed it.
And eventually, it became clear that this was the work I was here to do.

What I believe.
Every person's story matters.
Every woman carries experiences that shape the way she lives, leads, and creates.
Every business reflects the person who created it.
When we understand the story beneath the business, we can begin building something that supports both.
That's the heart of Rebel Road.
It is the journey I had to walk before I could help someone else walk theirs.
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