There wasn't one defining moment where everything suddenly shifted. It happened more quietly than that, almost in a way that could have been missed if I wasn't paying attention. Over time, I started noticing a pattern. The ideas I was holding back, the connections I was making, the observations that felt unfinished in my mind would eventually surface in conversations anyway. They were often shared by someone else and received as insight. Not because they were more qualified, but because they chose to say it out loud. That realization stayed with me. It made me pause and look inward, not with frustration, but with clarity. I began to understand that I wasn't lacking perspective. I had been questioning whether my perspective was worth sharing in the first place. The shift came when I stopped waiting for complete certainty before speaking. I didn't become louder or more forceful. I became more willing to trust what I already knew, even when it was still forming. That small change created a different kind of confidence, one rooted in presence rather than perfection. As that trust grew, so did my clarity. I found myself contributing more directly, without overexplaining or softening my thoughts before they had a chance to land. I remained thoughtful, but I was no longer hesitant. There is a difference between being intentional and being invisible, and I had unknowingly been the latter. What became even more clear to me was the value of lived knowledge. The ability to recognize patterns, to sense direction, to understand nuance without needing everything spelled out. That kind of awareness cannot be replicated, and it should not be set aside in an effort to keep up or fit in. Finding my voice did not change who I was. It revealed who I had been all along. It allowed me to move with intention instead of hesitation, and to recognize that my perspective was not something to measure against others. It was something to stand in, fully and without apology.

Early on, I approached activations like I was there to execute, not influence. I'd follow the brief, stick to the script, and second guess any instinct that wasn't explicitly outlined. But in high-energy environments festivals, golf events, brand activations, you start to see things in real time that a strategy deck can't predict. The turning point was realizing: I was seeing patterns before anyone else and not speaking on them was a missed opportunity. For example, at events, I stopped treating networking as passive. I wasn't just "friendly staff" I positioned myself as someone who understands the brand, the consumer, and the sales dynamic in real time. That changed everything. Conversations became more strategic, not surface-level. Brands started asking for my input, not just my presence. I built relationships that extended beyond a single event into repeat bookings and opportunities. When I stopped second guessing and started speaking from what I was actively observing, I moved from being "staff" to being a value driver in the room.

There was a defining moment in my life when I realized that my perspective mattered and deserved to be heard. After overcoming personal challenges, becoming a teen mother, returning to finish high school, and later earning both my bachelor's and master's degrees, I recognized that my story carried purpose. For years, I questioned myself and often wondered if my voice was important enough to make a difference. What changed my path was understanding that my experiences were not something to hide they were something to use to help others heal, grow, and believe in themselves. Once I found my voice, I stepped into leadership, founded Together Leading Change and Total Life Coaching & Consulting, and began serving communities that often feel unseen or unheard. Finding my voice taught me that speaking up is not just about being heard it is about creating opportunities, inspiring others, and reminding women that their wisdom, resilience, and perspective have value. When I embraced that truth, it changed not only my path, but the lives of those I now serve.

I grew up in retail leadership. Fast-paced, results-driven environments where you learn quickly how to perform, how to deliver, how to keep things moving. I built teams, drove results, and earned my seat at the table. Even within the success, there were moments where I lost time second guessing the questions I wanted to ask or where I needed to challenge and push harder. The shift to lean into my voice didn't happen all at once. It happened through experience… and then it was solidified through pause. After stepping away from my corporate role and going through a very personal season of recovery, I gave myself space to reflect in a way I never had before. Not just on what I had accomplished, but on how I had been showing up. That's when it clicked: My perspective wasn't just valid because of my title or results, it was valuable because of what I had lived, observed, and learned along the way. I stopped seeing my voice as something to "earn" and started seeing it as something to own. I started speaking more directly, asking better questions and challenging the status quo. That shift is what led me to build Catalyst Connection. I realized so many leaders, especially women, are sitting on insights that could transform their teams and organizations but they're still waiting for permission to share them. Finding my voice didn't just change how I show up, it changed the kind of work I do in the world and now I help others find theirs.

There wasn't a single moment. It was a gradual shift that came with experience, exposure, and a deeper sense of purpose. Early in my career, I often found myself observing more than speaking, second-guessing whether my perspective added value. However, as I gained technical expertise and began leading more complex initiatives, I realized that my insights were not only valid, but necessary especially in spaces where diverse perspectives were often underrepresented. That shift became even more clear as I stepped into entrepreneurship with STM, LLC. I recognized that if I did not use my voice to advocate for the communities I care about, particularly underserved youth, those gaps would continue to exist. Finding my voice allowed me to move from participation to leadership. It gave me the confidence to contribute at a higher level, influence decision-making, and align my work more intentionally with my purpose. Ultimately, using my voice has changed my path by expanding my impact. It has allowed me to lead with clarity, advocate with conviction, and create opportunities not just for myself, but for others who may not yet feel empowered to speak up.

For a long time, I didn't struggle with having ideas. I struggled with saying them out loud, especially when they weren't fully formed or when I knew they might challenge someone more senior. There wasn't one dramatic turning point. It was more a pattern I started noticing: I would hold back in meetings, and then later watch the conversation move in a direction I knew could have been stronger or sometimes hear someone else say a version of what I had been thinking. The shift happened when I stopped framing my input as something that had to be perfect to be valuable. In fast-moving environments, waiting until you're 100% sure often means you're too late. I started contributing earlier sometimes just by asking a question or pointing out a gap. Not every point landed, and that was part of the learning. But over time, I saw that speaking up didn't just add value to the conversation. It changed how people engaged with me. I was brought into discussions sooner, my perspective was actively sought, and I had more influence on outcomes rather than reacting to them afterward. Finding my voice didn't make me louder. It made me more intentional. I'm still thoughtful about when and how I speak, but I no longer assume that silence is the safer or more professional choice. If anything, the biggest change is this: I don't wait for permission to have a perspective. I treat it as part of the responsibility of being in the room.

I am passionate about my career and my clients. I started my career in Real Estate in 1998, it's been 28 years and counting. I believe in being a "Great Agent" providing full service, tailored Real Estate services to all I serve. Finding my voice has helped all of my clients go through this sometimes very stressful process with guidance and ease. I am a great listener and truly want to know everyone's "story" before I decide how I can help them best.

There was a moment in my public service career when I realized that leadership was not always about being the loudest person in the room it was about being willing to speak up for people whose voices were often overlooked. Working in child welfare and crisis response, I sat in countless meetings where families were being discussed through policies, reports, and systems, but sometimes their humanity was missing from the conversation. I remember advocating for a family during a difficult case and realizing that my ability to connect systems with compassion brought a perspective that truly mattered. That moment shifted something in me. For years, I questioned whether I needed more experience, more titles, or more validation before speaking confidently. But I learned that lived experience, empathy, resilience, and the ability to see people beyond their circumstances are forms of expertise too. Once I stopped shrinking my voice, I began stepping into leadership differently facilitating difficult conversations, mentoring others, building community partnerships, and even pursuing entrepreneurship through my catering business. Finding my voice changed my path because it taught me that influence is not about perfection; it is about purpose, authenticity, and having the courage to lead anyway.

The moment I stopped doubting my voice was the night I sat in my car after a long shift and admitted out loud that I had outgrown the room I was working so hard to be invited into. I had been an LVN, an RN, an ICU nurse, an instructor, a case manager, and a utilization reviewer and I was still waiting for someone to tell me my perspective was ready. That night I realized the credentials were never the problem. The permission was. No one was coming to hand me a microphone. I had to pick one up. The first time I shared my real thoughts on healthcare staffing, not the polite version, the real version, I expected pushback. What I got instead was women messaging me to say, "I thought I was the only one." That is when I understood that my voice was never just mine to protect. It was a door for somebody else. Finding my voice changed every part of my path. It moved me from operator to owner. From employee to founder of three companies. From quietly capable to publicly accountable. And the truth is, my voice did not get louder because I got more qualified. It got louder because I finally believed that what I had to say was already worth saying. If you are still waiting to feel ready, hear me: your voice does not need to be perfect. It needs to be honest. The women who need to hear you are tired of polished. They are waiting for true.

Becoming a partner forced me to trust my voice, because there was no higher authority, only my responsibility to lead.

For centuries men have ruled as the higher sex from education to the household. Now women are here to break that glass ceiling. Ladies, don't let yourself slip back into the ages for the sake of any man or society custom.

When I heard the anecdote about the starfish flinger who went up and down the beach throwing stranded starfish back into the water, I realized that I am very similar to the person who spends time and energy pouring into others. Like the starfish flinger, I cannot save all of them, but I can make all the difference in the world to some.

The moment I realized my perspective mattered was the moment I stopped accepting silence as professionalism. Finding my voice changed my path by helping me recognize that bullying in nursing academia was not isolated. It was toxic, destructive, deeply normalized across universities, and something that needed to be confronted rather than endured.

For many years, I believed my work would speak for itself, until I learned that silence can sometimes hide strength. Finding my voice taught me that my perspective was not just valid, but valuable and that I was not only meant to be in the room, but to help shape it.

I found my voice when I realized that my perspectives are based on my lived experiences. No one else can claim them so they matter!

"Speak your mind even though your voice shakes." This quote from Eleanor Roosevelt resonates deeply with me as I have a natural quiver in my voice; it is a reminder that we should embrace diversity in all its forms. Additionally, Lean Management has given me strength by teaching me to be hard on the process but easy on the people, maintaining respect for everyone, including myself.

As women, we often spend so much time questioning whether we're qualified enough before speaking up. I realized some of my greatest growth came when I trusted my experience, used my voice confidently, and stopped waiting for permission to lead.

There was a pivotal moment when someone spoke on my behalf, sharing incorrect information that misrepresented my views, and I realized the importance of voicing my truth. By failing to refute their claims, I inadvertently allowed others to perceive me as agreeable, which was far from my true self. Silence can often be perceived as agreement, which can dilute one's brand, leading others to misinterpret values and intentions. This experience fueled my determination to assert my perspective and taught me that speaking up is essential for affirming my identity and ensuring my voice is respected.

Have FAITH in your BELIEF Have TRUST in your FAITH Have BELIEF in your TRUST

For years, while working for NASA, I thought I needed permission to speak up in rooms filled with people smarter, louder, or more experienced than me. The moment I realized confidence comes after action, my perspective shifted, and I knew then that it was earned through experience, integrity, and results. So I stopped shrinking myself and that confidence changed the trajectory of my career.