I lost my job. A job I had held for 17 years. Let that sink in for a moment, 17 years. That's not just a job. That's a rhythm, an identity, a sense of knowing exactly who you are when you walk through a door every morning. And then one day, it was gone. My first instinct was pure survival mode: fix this, fast. Update the résumé. Search the listings. Find something. Get back to solid ground before anyone, including me, noticed how scared I really was. But something made me stop. I took a breath. A real, deliberate breath. And instead of sprinting back to the familiar, I sat down and did something that terrified me more than the job loss itself. I got honest with myself. What if there's another option? That question cracked something open. Because right behind it came everything else: But what would that even look like? I've never done this before. I don't know where to start. What if I fail? What if I'm not cut out for this? What if I lose everything trying? The fear of the unknown was loud. I had spent nearly two decades inside the structure of an organization, with a manager, a paycheck, a process, a team. Going solo meant none of that. No blueprint. No safety net. No one to tell me if I was doing it right. Just me, my experience, and a leap of faith I wasn't sure I was ready to take. I didn't know how to set up a business. I didn't know how to find clients, price my services, or market myself. I didn't know what I didn't know, and that might have been the scariest part of all. But here's what I did know: 17 years of HR experience didn't disappear when my job did. That knowledge, those relationships, that hard-won expertise, none of that belonged to the company. It belonged to me. And sitting in that uncertainty, that truth became the one steady thing I could hold onto. So I made the decision. Not because I had it figured out. Not because the fear went away. But because staying frozen felt worse than moving forward scared. I became a solopreneur. I launched my own HR consulting practice, built from everything I had spent nearly two decades learning, now finally on my own terms. The path wasn't clean. There were moments of serious doubt, days I questioned everything, and more than a few times I wondered if I had made a terrible mistake. But every step forward, no matter how uncertain, taught me something the corporate world never could: that I was more capable than I had given myself credit for, and that sometimes the most powerful move you can make is simply refusing to let fear make your decisions for you. Losing that job after 17 years felt like the end. It turned out to be the beginning. If you're standing in a moment that feels like the ground just disappeared beneath you, I see you. The fear is real. The uncertainty is real. But so is your strength, even when you can't feel it yet. Take the breath. Sit with yourself. Ask the hard question. Your next chapter is waiting, and it might be the most powerful one yet.

If it makes you uncomfortable then you know it's your next step to make it happen, fear is just an option, I've learned by failing and accepting that I am not an expert on anything.

I couldn't find a seat at the table so I created my own. As an African woman with a lived experience of major depression and complex trauma, I struggled to find culturally and linguistically appropriate mental health services. I created the Women's Wellness Institute to ensure that women from multicultural and multilingual communities have access to culturally responsive mental health support services. This is a labor of love and it's personal and an integral part of my journey of healing.

My passion for people began at thirteen, behind the counter of a local grocery store in my hometown. While most see a first job as a steppingstone, I saw it as a heartbeat. I realized early on that a simple conversation could brighten someone's entire day, and that connection fueled me. For years, I stayed within the customer service sphere, but it wasn't until a trip to Las Vegas that my true path became clear. Seeing the grand scale of the hospitality industry, I felt an immediate pull...this was where I belonged. I didn't wait for "someday" to get started. I enrolled in school immediately to pursue a Business degree with a minor in Hospitality, determined to back my passion with professional expertise. The stars didn't align overnight. It took a major life transition (my sister moving in with me) to provide the catalyst I needed to join Marriott. From the moment I stepped onto the property, I knew I had found my professional home. I stopped worrying if I was "ready" for leadership and instead focused on growth. I became a sponge: constantly seeking out every training manual and module available, closely watching how my own managers led their teams to identify the traits I wanted to mirror, and leaning into the core beliefs of the company, letting those values guide my decisions. That dedication paid off. Within eight months, I was promoted to Front Desk Supervisor, and today, I am proud to serve as the Assistant General Manager. By stopping the wait for the "perfect" moment and simply diving into the work, I turned a childhood love for people into a thriving leadership career.

We had failed at two other startups. Two. We were young, we had burned through time and money and energy, and the logical thing would have been to just stop. Most people would have. But we were stubborn, or maybe just too naive to fully accept defeat, and we tried again. Not because the timing was right. Not because everything was lined up. But because we were not done yet. That business was Fardabook, one of Iran's first online bookstores. It worked. We built something people actually depended on, exited successfully, and none of it would have happened if we had waited until everything felt safe. Then years later, after building other people's companies, managing other people's teams, showing up every day for other people's visions, I hit a point where I knew it was time to build something of my own. I had the experience. I had the scars. But I also had that same old voice in the back of my head asking whether the timing was right, whether I was sure, whether I should wait just a little longer. I founded MPowered Ventures anyway. And it is the best professional decision I have ever made. Here is what I actually believe: you are never going to feel fully ready. That feeling does not come. What comes instead is a moment where you get tired of waiting and decide to bet on yourself. That is it. That is the whole secret. The women I admire most did not wait for permission or perfect conditions. They just started, messy, uncertain, underprepared, and figured it out on the way. So if you are sitting on something right now, waiting for the stars to align, they are not going to. Start anyway.

There was a moment when I realized I was waiting for everything to feel "just right", more time, more clarity, more confidence. But that moment never came. What helped me move forward was understanding that healing and purpose don't wait for perfection. I had to trust God, take the step anyway, and start where I was. I chose to move forward even with uncertainty, even with fear, because I knew staying still would only delay what was already placed on my heart. That decision taught me that growth happens in the moving, not in the waiting.

For me, values are not just something I speak about, they are something I live by, both in my career and in my everyday life. At the core of my leadership is a deep commitment to integrity, accountability, and respect, principles that have guided me through more than two decades in Human Resources. I believe in showing up consistently and doing what I say I am going to do. That level of accountability builds trust, and trust is the foundation of everything. But beyond structure and standards, I emphasize the importance of empathy in leadership. In fast paced, operations driven environments, I have learned that understanding people, their challenges, their motivations, and their potential, is just as critical as driving performance. Rather than seeing people and results as competing priorities, I view them as deeply connected. It is never about choosing between people and performance. It is about finding the balance that allows both to thrive. Growth is another value that continues to shape my journey. Whether navigating change, building new processes, or stepping into leadership opportunities, I embrace every experience as a chance to evolve, not just for myself, but for those around me. Today, as I continue to expand my impact, my approach remains grounded in purpose: leading with intention, building trust, and creating environments where individuals and organizations can succeed together. Because at the end of the day, meaningful leadership is not just about results, it is about the impact you leave on people.

There was never a "perfect time" for me to continue my education, build my career, or pursue leadership opportunities in behavioral healthcare. As a single mother balancing graduate school, internships, work, and raising my son, life was rarely perfectly aligned or easy. What helped me move forward was realizing that waiting for ideal circumstances would only delay the future I was trying to create for us. I learned to focus less on whether everything was perfectly in place and more on taking the next step with the resources and support I did have. Some of my most defining moments happened during seasons of uncertainty and exhaustion, but they also taught me resilience, adaptability, and perseverance. Looking back, I'm grateful I chose to keep moving forward instead of waiting until everything felt comfortable or certain. That mindset continues to shape both my personal life and the way I lead professionally today.

I lost my job of nearly 20 years during COVID. The meeting I supported all those years was canceled, and with it, my position was eliminated. After two decades of dedication, "eliminated" felt like betrayal. I did not just lose a job. I lost my sense of home, my identity, and my worth. My first instinct was exactly that, a reaction. Survival mode kicked in. I updated my resume, changed my social profiles to "open to work," and started reaching out, searching aimlessly for anything that resembled stability. At the same time, I had just earned my associate degree and planned to continue toward my bachelor's. But suddenly, doubt crept in: Who is going to hire me at a decent salary with just an associate degree? And then, something shifted. It felt like a lightbulb went off. I slowed down, just enough to stop, breathe, and think. It was still very much the height of COVID, and meeting planning jobs were nearly nonexistent. So I made a decision that felt both terrifying and freeing: I stopped waiting for the perfect time. I told myself, "Screw it. I'm going to finish my degree." If I was not working, I could be learning. I took a leap of faith and enrolled at Purdue Global, and it turned out to be exactly what I needed. For the first time in a long time, I gave myself space to reflect and ask: What's next? What do I truly want? Instead of seeing my situation as a setback, I began to see it as an opportunity to reinvent myself. I reminded myself of what had not been taken from me: 20+ years of experience, hard earned relationships, industry knowledge, and a reputation I was proud of. This time, when I reached out, I did it differently. Not aimlessly, but intentionally. I connected with mentors, trusted colleagues, and people who truly supported me. The kind of people who would tell me the truth and help guide me forward. That shift changed everything. A part time virtual meeting planning role opened up, which later grew into a full time position in my industry. It was not a straight line. I carried self doubt along the way. I questioned whether I had made the right decision for myself and my family. Losing a career I had spent two decades building felt isolating at times. But something in me had changed. I remembered: If there's a will, there's a way. If you have ever been in a place like this, you know the fear and uncertainty are real. But so are your work ethic, your accomplishments, your character, and your strength. Do not be afraid to lean into your support system, the real ones. Let them see the unpolished, uncertain, in progress version of you. They may just remind you that you were meant to shine. Life is a journey, not a destination. Keep learning. Keep growing. And most importantly, keep moving.

When I lost my job as a full-time news reporter, it really put me in a tailspin. I had wanted to be a reporter since I was 16 years old. As fate would have it, I was able to combine my childhood dream of being a reporter with my new love of wildland firefighting into an entirely new career as a Public Information Officer. I wouldn't be where I am today if I had just given up.

No one can take the credit of building in you what God had already built in you. You hold the power and no one can build or demolish what they didn't have access to build within you in the first place.

My moment was publishing a book on leadership, even though the timing was not perfect and life was never not busy. To move, you have to step outside of your comfort zone and trust that sometimes the first step is how we aspire to inspire.

Our Dreams aren't ever delayed. The road always rises to meet us exactly where we are. A delay, it's always a blessing in disguise.

Sometimes the bravest decision is choosing yourself after years of choosing everyone else. Moving across the country after my children grew up taught me that it's never too late to build a life that belongs fully to you.

When you've been through hard things, it's easy to overthink, wait, or hesitate before making big decisions. At some point I realized waiting for the perfect time was just a prettier version of procrastinating, and most of the biggest decisions in my life happened before everything felt fully aligned.

Nearly 50 years after the Stonewall uprising, I realized we couldn't wait for perfect conditions to protect its legacy, so I committed to transforming a dark, empty storefront into what is now the Stonewall National Monument Visitor Center, even before every resource, answer, or detail was in place. What helped me move forward was trusting that the initial whisper ("this space is needed now") mattered more than my fear of uncertainty, and believing that clarity, partners, and funding would follow once I took that first audacious step.