My roots are in rural, small-town Ontario. What I KNOW is that I feel most at home in open spaces and I’d trade the sound of traffic for spring peepers in a heartbeat.
I spent years believing the starving artist stereotype and ignored the calling of my heart to write - instead I taught English. and History.
I allowed myself to be silenced, side-lined, and shushed in big ways and small. I learned to stop speaking up and that silence, like shadows, slowly stretched into every area of my life - marriage, career, friends... Until saying anything felt dangerous.
It’s not lost on me that I started a business where it was my job to help other women find their voice at a time when I was still blissfully unaware of how little I used my own (I see whatcha did there Universe, well played).
I am constantly humbled, inspired, and schooled by my clients and fellow entrepreneurs who have been fearless in allowing their humanity to be witnessed. It’s been life-changing. Sometimes you need someone to show you the way so you know it CAN be done (& you will not die).
I’ve always said my courage grew one vertebrae at a time. It started here. It began by getting comfortable with taking creative risks. I found courage, freedom, and healing with pen and paper that changed...everything.
Writing, for me, has always been my favourite act of creation and catharsis.
It began with stories and poems always grappling with the beauty and brutality of life, the messy, uncomfortable can’t-shake-these-thoughts and the oh-my-breathless-wonder of it all. I still walk that line in my copy.
I have birthed 2 humans but I think it took more courage to birth a business and believe in myself. Risky. And more courage still to take my children from a toxic marriage and stand on my own 2 feet. I know high stakes.
And I understand that building a business, replacing an income and paying the bills can feel hellishly high stakes when you’re just starting out.
These days you’ll most often find me in a messy bun with no makeup rather than a polished, silent mask because I’ve learned the connection you create when you take off the armour is worth it. In life. In your relationships. And in your copy.
I’ve learned being human takes nothing away from your skills, experience, expertise, or the results you deliver.
Because it doesn’t matter how you’ve been silenced (or silenced yourself) you can learn to embrace your story and write bravely.
