For years, I found myself quietly adjusting to the expectations of others. I would hold back ideas in meetings, hesitate to take on challenges, and shrink into the background, all in an effort to avoid making anyone uncomfortable. I thought this was simply professional, or that it was my role to accommodate others' comfort above my own growth. But over time, I realized that shrinking only limited my impact and my confidence. The turning point came during my work in operations, a field I had not initially expected to love. I had started my career with a degree in Graphic Design, drawn to the creative side of things. But as I dove into backend workflows, automations, and creating SOPs, I discovered a passion for making systems work efficiently and helping others grow in their roles. I loved training colleagues, building processes, and finding ways to reduce manual work. That is when I realized I was not meant to hide my skills, I was meant to show up fully. This shift did not happen overnight. Early on, I faced situations where I felt tempted to shrink, to stay quiet, or to play small so as not to ruffle feathers. I had to learn to process my feelings, acknowledge them, and then act anyway. One lesson that helped me was simple: focus on quality, and speed, recognition, and influence will follow. Another was about integrity, staying true to my values even when it is easier to compromise. Both shaped how I approached my work and my presence in professional spaces. The results were transformative. I became more confident in my abilities, more intentional in my contributions, and more excited about leadership opportunities. I found joy in helping others learn and develop their skills, whether through training sessions, SOPs, or workflow automations. I realized that showing up fully does not just benefit me, it benefits the team and the organization as a whole. Stopping the habit of shrinking meant embracing my passions, asserting my expertise, and trusting that my voice had value. It is a lesson I carry with me every day: confidence is not about being loud or forceful, it is about knowing your worth, acting with integrity, and contributing in ways that reflect your true capabilities. The moment I stopped shrinking to fit was the moment I began to thrive, not just professionally, but personally.

Do it scared

There wasn't one single moment, but rather a shift that happened over time. Early in my career, I found myself holding back, questioning whether I had enough experience to speak up, especially in rooms where I was younger or one of the few women present. I thought I needed more time, more proof, or more validation before fully stepping into my voice. What changed was realizing that I was already capable, and that respect is not something you wait for, it's something you embody. I began to understand that everyone brings a different perspective, regardless of age or years of experience. My way of thinking, my attention to detail, and my ability to see risks and solutions had real value. From that point on, I stopped trying to fit into expectations and started showing up more fully, speaking with confidence, trusting my intuition, and taking ownership of my role. That shift didn't just change how others saw me, it changed how I saw myself.

Early in my career, I often led with a strong focus on service and making sure I was aligning with expectations, supporting leadership, and ensuring all voices were heard. While that servant leadership mindset has always been a strength, there were times I held back my own perspective in more complex or high-level discussions, especially when I was still establishing myself in the industry. A defining shift happened as I moved into more leadership roles, particularly while supporting large-scale member engagement and volunteer initiatives. Being responsible for helping translate strategy into execution while managing input from a wide range of stakeholders. In those moments, I realized I was sometimes over-processing every perspective before fully trusting my own leadership voice. What changed was recognizing that my perspective was not separate from the work. It was part of what strengthened the work. As I stepped further into executive leadership, I began to understand that effective leadership is not just about creating space for others, but also confidently contributing your own expertise to guide direction and outcomes. That realization shifted everything for me. I stopped over-adjusting in professional spaces and began showing up more fully as myself, grounded in transparency, governance experience, strategic thinking, and servant leadership. As my voice became more present, my confidence deepened. I no longer questioned whether I was being "too direct" or "too assertive." Instead, I focused on being clear, intentional, and consistent in my leadership. That shift has strengthened not only my confidence, but also my ability to lead teams, influence outcomes, and create environments where others feel empowered to do the same.

I believe I finally found myself in my 40's. I had spent many years trying to prove to everyone from my small Texas town that I was more than what I had growing up. I came from a middle class, hard working, large family. We wore hand me downs and ate what was cooked and put on the table. We were poor but we had a happy childhood. But my father passed away when I was very young and my mother very much believed that you became an adult, married someone and raised babies. I am not saying that many people are unhappy that live that life but I knew from a very young age that I was never going to be one of those people. I wanted more. I worked many jobs through the years, went to college for a couple years and was not ready for that. I came home and married young despite my young self's dreams. I spent 12 years playing the part and one day I woke up with 4 young kids and a husband that suffered a brain injury in a car accident. I was actually in the middle of a divorce at the time and things became exceptionally hard during my almost ex husband's trauma, having 4 young kids and trying to figure out my next move. I eventually finished the divorce, loaded up my kiddos and despite the biggest fears I had faced thus far, took a job 8 hours away from any family with my 4 young kids. Those first 2 years were some of the best years we had. I grew as an adult and as a mother and decided it was time to go back to school and head towards a career path that bettered my family life. I took night classes at UNT until I got my master's and began working for C-suite execs often "doing the job without the title". I spent many years doing this because the fear of the unknown is always the scariest. I had many wonderful mentors and built amazing relationships just by being the person that always volunteered to "do the job" even though the job wasn't mine. I built trust and had hands on experience, and to this day these colleagues are the ones that have played a major role in molding who I am as a professional today. I believe in doing the same thing now as the person that younger women are watching and learning from today. I will always be the first to be hands on and to show whoever is watching that it's the littlest things that make the biggest impacts. That if you are willing to "do the job" even when it isn't yours, you will also reap the success that comes with the big jobs, and you will appreciate the success that came from the work that backed it up.

I too can do hard things! I have dyslexia and growing up in public schools was hard. I struggled in school and was held back in 2nd grade because of my dyslexia. As a kid that kind of pulls the wind out of your sails. I was told by many teachers that I wouldn't be able to have normal jobs because of my learning challenges and that I most likely wouldn't make it in college. I had one teacher who did believe in me. Mr. Loza my high school theatre teacher. He told me that yes, I would have to work harder than other students but that I could be whatever I wanted to be. I had been acting since I was 5 and Mr. Loza encouraged me to try theatre tech. I found my place when I made that switch from being on stage to working behind the scenes. I got into Boise State University! What!?! Who would have thought that could happen, not me. I was able to work with my professors and let them know about my dyslexia. They worked with me and helped me graduate with my Theatre Education Degree. While I was also in college I was encouraged to work at Idaho Shakespeare Festival. Working at Idaho Shakespeare Festival helped foster my love for technical jobs. I was the assistant master electrician for 8 years all while getting a teaching job. I was a middle school theatre teacher at Lewis and Clark Middle School for 3 years and a Stagecraft teacher at Mountain View High School for 8 years. I loved working with students and teaching them the craft of theatre. I helped my students be successful outside the classroom as well with many of them taking the skills I helped them gain to jobs later in life. I won a few awards for my production of Cinderella. I was also the first teacher to have live music played for the school musical. I taught students how to use tools and sew. It was always a joy to see the students' faces light up when they finally solved the hard problem they were trying to solve. I was presented with a job opportunity I couldn't pass up and left education after covid. I became the AV Manager/Play Studio Manager at Jakes Urban Meeting Place (JUMP) in Boise Idaho. I was able to be so creative and come up with different educational programs for the community. I started their Dreamweaver Film Festival and program making short films from beginning to end. I also learned more about video while I was working there for 3 years. I then moved to the Boise Centre where I really found my groove as their AV Production Manager. My team of AV professionals are wonderful to work with and have the best customer service. We strive to have successful events and making sure our clients are walking away happy. Looking back at my life I realized that I too can do hard things. I too, even with my challenges that I have to overcome daily, can do it. Even with people telling me that I wouldn't be able to do the job I have now. I too can do hard things.

I speak about this moment specifically in my book. The moment I stopped "shrinking." My moment was a bit unusual and not recommended, but it's my truth. I was 17 years old. So I guess in hindsight I'm glad it happened rather early. I got into a fight that woke me up. It shook something loose in me that no one has been able to tame since. At 6 foot 2 inches tall, I always stood out in a crowd, which was the exact opposite of what an introvert like myself actually wanted. I played basketball, volleyball, field events in track, all while purposefully minimizing myself because of my size. I was terrified that at my height and stature I was bound to hurt another girl or somehow become the punch line of someone's joke for being such a "monster" on the court. The thought of either made me sick to my stomach. But one particular night a fight between a group of girls over God knows what, changed everything over. I'm not sure what happened but in the weeks following the "confrontation" my athletic abilities seemed to skyrocket. I crashed the boards for rebounds on the basketball court, I sent balls over the volleyball net ferociously! I was an outside hitter and that is what I did. If you happened to catch one to the face, well that was part of the game. The timidness had disappeared. I felt like that fight gave me permission to play hard, to let my light and talents shine as bright as anyone else's. My size had always been something I looked at as a "concern" versus an asset. Not anymore. I took that same mindset into the male dominated profession of the Army, where I used my size to quite literally take up space. I used to tell people that it was harder for men or anyone for that matter, to "talk down to a woman that they had to physically look up to." So I've walked through the last 21 plus years of active-duty Army service with my head held high, my back straight, and when the situation allowed for it, wearing stiletto heels! Making others uncomfortable was no longer my concern. I came to do a job, I'll do it well and I'll do it without shame or hesitation.

I don't know that there was one dramatic moment, but I do think stepping deeper into leadership changed me. Early on, I spent a lot of time trying to make sure everyone else was comfortable. I softened myself in rooms. Second guessed my voice. Tried not to come across as "too much." But over time, as I took on more responsibility and realized people's livelihoods, growth, and opportunities were connected to the work I was leading, something shifted. I realized shrinking myself was actually limiting my ability to lead effectively. That doesn't mean I suddenly became fearless. But I became more grounded. More willing to trust my instincts, speak clearly, take up space, and show up authentically instead of constantly editing myself for other people's comfort. Motherhood deepened that even more. It made me even more intentional about the example I set, especially around confidence, self-worth, and authenticity. I'm still evolving, but I'm no longer interested in making myself smaller just to fit into spaces I'm already meant to be in.

I stopped trying to be the person with all the answers and became someone people feel safe figuring things out with. Confidence stopped looking like perfection and started looking like presence: the honesty to admit you don't know, the curiosity to keep learning, the humility to grow, and the self-trust to move forward anyway.

There came a point where I realized I was spending too much energy trying to make other people comfortable with my ambition, my intelligence, my experience, and even my resilience. I stopped shrinking when I understood that taking up space with purpose is not arrogance. It is alignment.

I spent years trying to fit into expectations that asked me to be smaller, quieter, and more contained. Becoming a mother shifted everything. I realized I would never want my daughter to dim her own light, so I stopped doing it myself and began showing up with complete confidence, purpose, and a drive to stand up for others.

For years, I balanced cultural expectations, motherhood, entrepreneurship, and the responsibility of preserving traditional arts while quietly carrying the ideology effortlessly that multicultural performing arts deserved serious recognition and structure. As a Global NRI, it boils down to the roots as your most preserved asset. The turning point at my first acquisition was in 2015 when I realized that my journey, leadership, and decades of documented impact were not something to minimize. Embracing my full identity as an artist, educator, and founder gave me the confidence to build platforms that now empower thousands of students and emerging artists across communities and generations. The acquisition in 2015 made me understand how smooth a road can be with such level of expertise.

I had a husband who was the smartest person in his school and got a prestigious degree. His life was entirely condoned by a culture of computer engineers that forgot to ask about or include the wives in their lives. I didn't know a culture of dismissal and judgment was creating itself about me without even asking me about myself. It seemed suspicious but I was not ready for the conspiracy that presented itself upon our divorce. I was the smartest person in my school district, skipped high school, went right into college and got into an honors society. I exited my marriage with no family friends. Despite a ton of expectations I now have 17 provisional patents and an IP of potentially billions. Don't waste time with people who want to weave you into strange narratives. You can't even spend time finding yourself without odd judgments.

I stopped shrinking when I realized there are no two versions of me in this world. God created me with unique gifts, purpose, and strength, so I no longer feel the need to minimize myself to fit into spaces that were never meant to define my worth. Confidence came when I embraced that who I am is not too much, it is exactly who I was created to be.

For many people, the moment they stop shrinking happens when they realize hiding parts of themselves feels more exhausting than being real. It's when they start choosing honesty and confidence over always trying to please everyone.

It's about showing up authentically as yourself and realizing that you will be for some people, and not for others. This realization opened the door for me to stand in rooms I would have otherwise written myself out of, had I let self doubt win.

I was given an opportunity to go for something new and challenging. I knew it meant changing. I closed my eyes & designed a new version of myself. She was tenacious, extremely confident, and still very kind. I bought her clothes, focused on her posture, and fully imagined her. Today I am her. Everything starts in the mind. Never. Forget. That.

I often laid low as my husband has a very prominent position in the same organization. After 10 years, I thought why? I watched others excel and it only hurt me. So I stopped worrying about people. I flourished and kept advancing…and now I'm unstoppable.

The shift happened when I realized I could no longer shrink myself just to make other people comfortable or digestible. As a Black woman navigating spaces that were not always cultivated with me in mind, I had to learn that my voice, my presence, and my perspective deserved to take up space fully, and that confidence grew the moment I stopped asking permission to be seen and heard.

I stopped shrinking the moment I realized my ambition, voice, and leadership were never "too much." The more I showed up fully as myself, the more confident, impactful, and free I became.