I have come to realize that waiting for everything to be perfect can quietly become a form of delay. One of the clearest moments for me was in the journey of writing Squiggles Among Squares. As much as I believed in the message, I still wrestled with thoughts like, "Who am I to write this while I am still growing myself?" But through that process, I had to confront a deeper truth that God does not only use us when we feel finished or fully confident. Sometimes He calls us to speak while we are still becoming. Sometimes He asks us to move from the middle, not just from the mountaintop. That realization did not only shape my writing. It reshaped the way I see my life. My journey has included painful and unexpected turns, including disruptions in my educational path and seasons that could have easily caused me to shrink back, second-guess myself, or wait until I felt more secure. But what I have learned is that what looked like setbacks were often the very places where God was building resilience, clarity, compassion, and purpose in me. I did not become who I am by waiting until everything aligned perfectly. I became who I am by continuing to walk, trust, and say yes to what God placed in my hands, even when I was still healing, learning, and growing. That is why this message is so personal to me. Perfection says, "Wait until you are beyond the struggle." But purpose says, "Be faithful in the middle of it." I have learned that imperfect obedience is often more powerful than polished hesitation. Moving forward imperfectly gave me permission to build, lead, write, advocate, and respond to the call from a genuine place. And in many ways, that has made the impact deeper, because people do not just need polished stories; they need living testimony. They need to see what it looks like when someone trusts God enough to move forward, even while still being refined. Today, I can say that moving forward imperfectly has been one of the most powerful lessons of my life. It taught me that while excellence matters, perfection is not the requirement for obedience, but growth, surrender and faithfulness. And when I stopped waiting to get everything right, I made room for God to show me that He can do something beautiful even in process. I no longer see that as weakness. I see it as strength and part of what it truly means to gracefully become her.

There was a point early in my journey where I kept feeling like I needed to have everything fully figured out before I could move forward. I wanted the structure, the clarity, and the confidence to already be in place before I took the next step. But the reality was, I didn't have all of that yet and waiting for it was keeping me stuck. I remember having to take a step back and ask myself what I was really waiting for. That was the moment I realized that progress wasn't going to come from having everything perfectly aligned; it was going to come from taking action and figuring things out along the way. Once I shifted into that mindset, things started to change. I became more willing to try, adjust, and keep moving, even when things weren't perfect. That decision (to choose progress over perfection) is what allowed me to grow into my work, build my business, and gain the clarity I was originally waiting for. Looking back, I realize that clarity doesn't come before you start. It comes because you start.

Everything I went through (every challenge, every loss, every heartbreak) wasn't breaking me… it was building me. Into someone stronger. Into someone softer. Into someone who finally knows her worth. I haven't had the worst life…far from it…I have a lot to be thankful for but I've definitely had to learn how to turn lemons into lemonade. You can't always win or get your way. You have to see things for how they are. I no longer shrink myself or undervalue myself. I no longer dim my light. I no longer carry things that were never mine to hold. That… is freedom.

I took on work that didn't have a clear path—building systems and figuring things out in real time without knowing exactly how it would come together. That's when I realized waiting to feel ready wasn't going to get me anywhere. Progress came from stepping in, taking ownership, and building as I went.

The moment I stopped waiting to feel completely ready was the moment everything began to change. For so long, I believed I needed to have every answer, every qualification, and every detail figured out before taking the next step. But some of the biggest opportunities in my life and career came when I chose progress over perfection and trusted myself enough to begin anyway. Whether it was stepping into leadership, using my voice more confidently, or building something of my own, I learned that growth does not come from waiting until you feel ready. It comes from taking the next step, learning as you go, and believing that you are capable even before you have all the proof.

When you're serving youth and families, you quickly see that waiting for the perfect time, funding or plan doesn't exist so you have to start when you have the drive to. Moments where a young person needed guidance, a family needed support, or a program needed to exist even if it wasn't fully polished are what push you to act anyway. Those experiences tend to teach a clear lesson: progress matters more than perfection. Showing up, trying, adjusting, and learning in real time often creates more impact than waiting until everything looks "right" on paper. So the shift usually happens when action starts changing lives even in small ways and you realize that imperfect effort is still powerful.

My academic journey began in 2004 when I set out to earn a dual major in Healthcare Administration and Organizational Management. I was young, motivated, and determined to build a future rooted in service and leadership. I worked hard and pushed through every challenge, but when I reached my final four classes, I faced a barrier I could not overcome at the time...I ran out of money. With no financial support and no way to pay out of pocket, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to leave school. Life moved forward, and my focus shifted to raising my three boys. Motherhood became my priority, and although I poured myself into my family, the unfinished degree never stopped weighing on my heart. I always knew I wanted to finish what I started, and the dream never left me. In 2020, I married a retired veteran who supported my goals and encouraged me to return to school. With renewed strength and a clearer vision for my future, I made the decision to go back. In 2023, nearly two decades after I first began, I restarted my educational journey with determination and faith guiding every step. In April 2024, I proudly completed my dual bachelor's degrees, a moment that represented not just academic achievement, but redemption, resilience, and the fulfillment of a long-delayed promise to myself. After taking six months to breathe and reflect, I stepped into the next chapter: pursuing my Master of Human Resource Management. Now, on May 31, 2026, my birthday, I will walk across the stage and receive my master's degree. Summa Cum Laude. This milestone is more than a credential; it is a testament to perseverance, faith, and the power of returning to your purpose no matter how much time has passed. I am living proof that when you put God first, hold onto your vision, and create a plan, nothing can stop you from accomplishing your goals. My journey has not been easy, but it has been worth every step. And I stand today as a reminder that delayed does not mean denied and your dreams are still possible.

The moment that changed everything was when I hit send on my first book manuscript before I thought it was "ready." I had been rewriting, rearranging, and second-guessing for months. I kept telling myself one more edit, one more polish, but the truth was, I was hiding behind perfectionism because putting it out meant being seen. And being seen meant being judged. What finally moved me? I realized that the women I was writing for didn't need a perfect book. They needed a real one. They needed to hear their own story reflected back at them with honesty and sass and zero apology. A flawless manuscript sitting in my drafts folder helps no one. So I chose progress. I sent it. I launched it. I held a physical copy in my hands, my words, my name, my imperfect, powerful truth. And I haven't stopped moving since. Perfection is a waiting room. Progress is the door. Walk through it!

For a long time, perfection felt like something I was supposed to carry. I wanted to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect employee, the perfect teammate, and the perfect version of myself in every room I walked into. But over time, trying to live up to that impossible standard began to crush me: professionally, mentally, and personally. The moment I truly realized perfection was holding me back came during one of the hardest seasons of my life. My marriage had failed years ago, my children were grown, and I was faced with the harsh reality that I had missed so much joy by expecting myself to get everything right. I had spent so much time trying not to fail that I had not always given myself permission to simply be human. That same season, my confidence at work began to crumble. I believed I could do more, be more, handle more, but the truth was, I was tired. I was stretched thin. I was carrying the weight of personal loss while still trying to perform professionally as if nothing had changed. For the first time, I had to admit that I could not do everything perfectly, and honestly, I could not do everything at once. One of my mentors reminded me to stop focusing only on what I had not done and take inventory of everything I had accomplished. That changed my perspective. When I looked back, I realized I had earned a degree while raising children. I had changed careers. I had built a place for myself in manufacturing. I had grown through sales, account management, and marketing. I had helped transform a brand. Yes, I had made mistakes, but I had also learned from them, revisited them, and used them to grow. That is when I began to understand that progress is often built through imperfect steps. My mistakes did not disqualify me. In many ways, they taught me how to lead, how to listen, how to improve, and how to keep going. My faith also grounded me in that season. I had to remind myself that the only perfect person to ever walk this earth left a long time ago. That truth gave me permission to stop chasing perfection and start choosing grace for myself, for my past, and for the woman I was still becoming. Choosing progress over perfection allowed me to breathe again. It gave me room to learn, to try, to fail, to adjust, and to move forward anyway. Perfection kept me afraid of falling short. Progress reminded me that falling short does not mean you have failed. It means you are still growing. Today, I try to carry that lesson into both my personal life and my career. I no longer believe perfection is the goal. Growth is. Courage is. Consistency is. The willingness to keep showing up, even when life is messy and the path is unclear, is what truly shapes us. By not being perfect, I still achieved more than I once gave myself credit for. And by revisiting my mistakes instead of running from them, I found strength, wisdom, and a deeper confidence in who I am becoming.

Moving forward imperfectly (starting before I had every answer, trying before I felt fully confident) became more powerful than waiting to "get it right." Every imperfect step taught me something perfection never could. Perfection creates distance. Momentum creates growth.

When we are young, life seems eternal; however, as we begin to realize that life is ephemeral, we understand that the moment to set all our dreams in motion is now.

Imperfect moments are your best teachers. Things done imperfectly will always teach you more than perfect plans sitting untouched. Growth started when I stopped treating mistakes like failure and started treating them like momentum.

I realized perfection was delaying the very growth I was praying for. Progress came the moment I stopped waiting to feel completely ready and started moving forward with courage, purpose, and consistency.

One of the biggest lessons I've learned in luxury fashion and interior design is that the magic rarely happens in the waiting. It happens in the layering, the risk-taking, and the unexpected mix of textures, tones, and statement pieces that suddenly just clicks. Some of my favorite spaces and looks were born from bold fabric pulls, last-minute swaps, imperfect styling, and trusting my eye before every detail was fully resolved. Moving forward imperfectly taught me that true luxury isn't about perfection. It's about creating something soulful, elevated, and unmistakably personal.

When I thought about how much time I was putting into planning to make a move versus doing it, I realized how far behind I was. Mistakes are lessons that we can't be scared to make. We live and learn and then we learn to live.

Life has taught me that opportunities don't wait for the "perfect" time. We must believe and walk by faith. Often, the journey itself creates the illusion that the moment we started was perfect.

For years, I thought I had to arrive fully polished before I was allowed to be seen. But rebuilding my life, my brands, and my voice taught me that momentum creates clarity, not perfection. Some of my most powerful breakthroughs came from choosing to move forward while still healing, learning, and becoming.

We often hear that money, physical appearance, and social status are the keys to a fulfilling life, but the reality is quite different. Genuine happiness is not derived from material wealth, fleeting beauty, or the number of friends one has. Instead, it springs from the deep connections we share with our family and the authentic friendships we cultivate throughout our lives. Furthermore, the sense of achievement we feel from pursuing our passions and reaching our goals plays a crucial role in our overall happiness. Ultimately, it's these meaningful relationships and personal accomplishments that define true contentment, rather than superficial markers of success.

Perfection is a myth. The best we can do is be fully present with ourselves and others, giving what we have, even imperfectly, with love.

Over the years I've learned that perfection can become a prison that keeps talented people from ever stepping into their true purpose. Some of the greatest ideas, movements, and creations in history were built by imperfect people navigating imperfect circumstances. Imposter syndrome is far more common than we admit, but through my career I've learned that confidence is built by moving forward anyway and trusting that growth happens in the process, not before it.