Childhoodtake2!

I am truly honored to be here and it is not something I take lightly.

I know the value of being surrounded by so many remarkable women and I want to thank you for breaking barriers, leading businesses, supporting communities, raising families, and still somehow finding the strength to lift others along the way.  

And if I’m being honest, I have sat in this audience for over 2 decades and never once thought I belonged on this stage, accepting any sort of award.

Because my story never started with, nor does it end in, confidence.

I have been defined by walking through fear.

Over and over again.

After spending more than 20 years loving my role in the nonprofit world, I heard an annoying voice telling me it was time to move on.

And I tried to squash it, I dug deeper into my work, thinking I could hard work the voice away.

At first, all I could think about was leaving behind a career that raised me, built me, and gave me the identity I had known for so long, but that voice wouldn’t stay quiet. And little did I know it was ambition and grit trying to break through.

I didn’t have all the answers, and shocker, I wasn’t overflowing with confidence. I just knew I had hard work wired in me; I knew that I cared deeply about people.

So I took the first step.
And then the next one and the next one after that.

But what I’ve learned is that courage isn’t about feeling fearless.
It’s about choosing to move forward anyway.

Even when your voice shakes.
Even when you’re unsure.
Even when it would be easier to stay where you are.

I want to be clear that my years in the nonprofit world shaped who I am. They taught me that when you invest in people, when you believe in them, and truly see them, you create something far greater than success. You create strength.

Capital CFO+ was built on that belief. But more than anything, it was built on relationships.

And for me, every step forward has always been rooted in people.

I would not be standing here without the people who have surrounded me along the way. Those who have believed in me, always more than I believed in myself. Specifically, everyone at tables 27, 28, and 18.

You protect my light.

You remind me who I am when I forget… hold space for me when things feel heavy… and encourage me to keep going, even when I don't feel strong.

Because the truth is, strength doesn’t always look the way we think it should.

Sometimes, it's is quiet and vulnerable.
Sometimes, it’s just taking the first and then next step.

For me strength is showing up. It’s kindness and resilience. Strength is having the courage to become exactly who you are meant to be.

To my daughter and my son, you are everything good. Everything I do is rooted in the kind of world I want you to grow up in… one where you feel confident, supported, and unafraid to take up space.

And to my husband, I no longer know how to say thank you but from the moment we met until the day we die, you are forever their hero and my coach.

This award means so much to me because it represents more than business success. It represents every moment where fear could have won, but didn’t. And it is not just mine. It belongs to the team, our clients, my family, and this incredible community. It belongs to those who believed in me.

So today, I just want to say thank you.

I want to end by saying to every woman here, please keep going.
Even when it’s uncomfortable.
Even when it’s uncertain.
Especially then.

Because sometimes the most powerful thing we can do… is take that next step forward anyway.

So, as the expression goes, here is to strong women, may we know them, may we be them, and may we raise the hell out of them.
Thank you so much.

The only way to describe us in the very beginning is easy.

It was so easy to fall in love with you. Joy, laughter, lightness; it all came so easily for us.

Our days together were filled with easy living, with our only responsibility being city walks with a little dog we treated like our first baby.

Finding family with you was easy, too. You were my joy, you were filled with it, and you stole my heart with the ease you brought to my life.

You were my balance, my reason, my family.

As the fog rolled into our marriage and things got harder, it was harder to find us, but you quickly pivoted. You became our rock, you kept our feet on the ground, you were the one who held me, held us, and reminded me that we fit, our love fits, and phases come and go. You cleared the fog, not with your joy, but with love and strength.

As the pendulum now sits squarely in the middle, somewhere between finding the ease again, finding the joy and lighthearted couple we were, and times of such extreme hard it visibly ages us, you continue to be my balance.

You, Cory, are my reason. We joke about how you think I gave us this life. But look around us. Everything we have, everything we are, it is all because you believed in us, and believed we could. Your joy in the early days took away my fear of family and commitment, your love took away my fear of mothering and parenthood, and your stable foundation gave me all I never knew I always wanted.

You turned our house into a home. You said yes to puppy love, snuggles, and kisses. You made sure I became the mother I always wanted to be, and because of you, two of the best people I know came from our love and stand here with us as two of the most beautiful and kind-hearted people. Two people you see so much potential in, and because of you, will live up to it in every way.

Because of you, I am surrounded in love, joy, comfort, and family.

I owe you everything, my entire life. So the very least I can promise you is my everlasting love; I will love you until my very last breath.

You were, are, and will always be…

My balance, my life, my family.

Olive juice coach.

As I sit here...
It has been five very long, frustrating, discouraging, painful, sad weeks of not moving my body.
I have never ever gone this long and I am not dealing very well with it all.

As I sit here...
The sun is finally out more than it is sleeping.
The weather is starting to change and spring is making her way.

As I sit here...
My newest little lady is obsessed with me. I'm her very best friend.
She has been my joy, my laugh, my smile, when I needed it most.

As I sit here...
Pearl is still my perfect puppy.
She is working really hard at being a good big sister even though she is feeling left out, left behind, left.
But sweet love of mine, I adore you, I always have, I always will.
I still love your hugs and snuggles, and snores, and ears, and head tilts, and the way you sleeep.

As I sit here...
My daughter is about to turn sixteen.
My son, thirteen.
I will soon have two teenagers and one will be learning to drive.
But that daughter of mine, still randomly tells me how much she loves me.
That son of mine, he still hugs me (not has tight, not as long) and still lets me give him little guy smooches.
He's still upset if I get hurt, or am sad.
He's still worried about me and allows me to worry about him.
My 16 and 13 year old children are incredible people.

As I sit here...
My husband and I are still in love.
In fact, I'm falling for him harder and feel that my love is becoming a needy annoyance.
I just feel like so much is happening, and he's my only constant, I need more and more of a reminder that we're going to be us.

As I sit here...
So much is changing, so fast.
I feel like we are on a fast track on our lives.
So much is going to happen with zero pauses and zero breaths to take.

As I sit here...
Right now, I just realized that maybe my falling, dislocating this stupid elbow, and being unable to move, shower, brush my teeth, dress myself, and be myself was the universe telling me to stop.
Maybe I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself and take it all in.
Maybe I needed to stop and watch instead of do and be.
Maybe I needed to use the time to stop and watch.

When you spend a life with someone, you forget.
When you spend a lifetime, working, going, building, hurting, loving, creating, destroying, engulfed in love, you forget.
I certainly did.

I forgot how incredible you are.
How naturally smart.
How you can lead us out of anything, anywhere, anytime.
I am so used to living with you, I forget that your talents reach so far, so wide.

I forgot how giddy you can get.
I forgot how much of a little little boy you can still be.
I forgot how delighted you can get.
I forgot how great you are at your job.
I forgot how great you are with kids.
I forgot your talents.

I forgot how your mind works.
I forgot about your incredible talents.
I forgot how naturally they all come to you.
I forgot how your mind works in a crisis.
I forgot how you always know what to do.
I forgot how quickly you can figure things out.
I forgot how you're willing to do anything to fix it.
I forgot your incredible, natural talents.

So, I've spent some time noticing, remembering.
Remembering you're my rock.
Remembering your my friend.
Remembering how to lean on you.
Remembering that I can.
Remembering what makes you tick.
Remembering who you are.
Remembering your incredible, natural talents.

Baby, baby, baby, light my way

Hi 2025.
It's been an interesting start for us.
You are the year I have decided, I will reignite my light, my heart, my warmth.
I will travel back home, just leave a light on.

But, you started with some dread.
Fear.
Worry.
Concern.
Doubt.

Oh, child, wipe the tears from your eye
You know I need you to be strong
And the day it as dark as the night is long

And I'm trying hard not to get sucked into the anxiety and give in to the fear.
But, this is our home, our livelihood, our way of life.
This is our money, our security, my security.

Sometimes I feel like I don't know
Sometimes I feel like checking out
I wanna get it wrong
Can't always be strong
And love, it won't be long...

And so, I'm trying to breathe through it all.
I'm trying to find my space, my rhythm, my groove.
I'm trying to find my beat, my boundary, my work, my joy, my passion.
We have built goals, and charts, dug into our history, our needs.
We have come together as a team and are ready to get back to our work.

Baby, baby, baby, light my way

And, to the loves of my life.
The ones that shine, light, love, faith, hope.
The ones that breathe life into my soul...

I know you don't know what to do.
I know you don't know what to say.
I know you don't know how to make it right.
I know you don't know how to fix it, make it all okay again.

But...

Your love was a light bulb
Hanging over my bed
Baby, baby, baby, light my way

Dear 2025.
I want to come home.
I want to find my peace again.
I want to fight for me again.
I want to come home.
Please leave a light on for me.

Part of your 20s are so easy.
Part of your 30s are so difficult.
Part of your 40s are so confusing.
Because you have time again and you love that.
You have space again and you needed that.
You have yourself again and you forgot who you were for a minute.
You have the ability to think again and you do think.
You think about your choices.
Your decisions.
Your regrets.
Your path forward.
Your anger.
Your concerns.
Your blessings.
Your luck.
Your work.
Your work ethic.
Your family.
Your person.
Your life.

Part of getting over your past is feeling very confused.
Because there is a part of you that needs to let go and be who you are. There are no more excuses.
This is you now. You are not just your past; you are also who you decided you would be. A combination of the past and the decisions you made to create a new future.

Confusing because there is part of you that wants to shout that you shouldn't even be here. You've done so so much with so so little.
Part of getting over your history is reliving it.
Part of getting over yourself is realizing how unspecial you are.
Part of building yourself back up again is reminding yourself that you are special.
You did take something awful and made it great.
You did build something out of nothing.
You built a life where one should not be.

Part of healing is having to remember you are so not perfect.
You will make so many mistakes.
You will have a tantrum because you feel so unseen, so unheard.
And you are reminded of how others see you, and how that isn't always good.
Because you're a person too and you get to make so many mistakes.

Part of remembering where you came from is screaming out, from your gut.
Taking up space and believing that can be okay, you have space you too should take up.
Stop shrinking.
Stop allowing others make you feel so small.
Stop crouching.

Part of living is losing.
Part of it is giving up.
Part of it is not giving up.
Part of it is letting go.
Part of it is holding on for dear life.
Part of it is trying so so hard to show yourself some grace, some actual compassion.

Part of growing up is incredible.
It's incredible.
Part of it is so lonely.
So very very lonely.
In your friendships, in your marriage, in your world.
Happy, fulfilled, doing all the right things, lonely, scared, sacrificing, stumped.

Part of being human is so complicated.

Love.
Crazy head over feet in love kind of love.
Knock me down, love.
Touch me all the time love.
Toes curled in sheets love.
Romantic, head over feet in love, love.
Romance and desire love.
Being taken by surprise love.
Being swept up in love love.

Young love.
Smiles across the table love.
Stolen glances love.
Sparks, real sparks love.
Can't keep our hands off of each other love.
Carefree love.
Easy to be in love, love.

Family.
Real family.
Family that accepts, loves, cherishes, wants to support.
Family that protects.
Family that holds on.
Family that you can rely on.
Family that you can lean on.
Family that can hold you up, builds you up.
Family that understands and takes care.
Family that cares to take care.
Family who is the base, the foundation, the rocks that we only build from.

Comfort.
Loving comfort and comforting love.
Being home love and then coming home, love.
Family love.
Happy in love, love.
Holding hands love.
Touching toes love.
Being secure and safe.
Being comfortable.
Being yourself.
Being in your home, being home, being surrounded by you.

Soothing.
Someone who knows how to soothe.
Someone who cares to soothe.
Someone who wants to hear you out so that you can soothe.
Someone who doesn't force you to self-soothe always and forever.
Someone who offers a loving ear, hand, shoulder, and soothing.

What I have, what I can physically hold, is
love
family
comfort
connection

I have a Sunday call that fills me with spirits.
I have a husband with whom I am head over heels in love.
I have children, children I didn't even realize I needed and I love love love being their mom.
I love love love being a mom, but I adore being their mom.
I have a group of women that I rely on, that comfort me, that understand me.
I have a job that completes me.
I have a puppy that cannot get enough of me.
I have a town that I am obsessed with.
I have a home built out of love, comfort, and ease.
I have people that love me so hard that others dislike me.
I have a heart, a heart for others, a heart for love.
I have a warm and comfortable bed that I have a love affair with.
I have books that take me away when I need to escape.

I have love, comfort, connections, people.

I lost my heart.
And you did too.

I lost who I was and what I love most about myself.
And you did too.

I lost my smile and any ease I had (which already was so little).
And you did too.

I felt lost.
Like I couldn't even imagine who I was anymore.
Or who I wanted to be because I felt so alone.
I couldn't image what I would become if I didn't have this heart to lead my way.
I felt uncomfortable.
Like I still wanted to shine, but I also needed and wanted to hide.
I wanted to continue just loving the parts of me that I loved and grow the parts of me that need growth, but I also wanted to go the hell away.
But you did not.

I lost my heart.
And you did too.

We talk a lot about how I am feeling through it all.
Not because we don't recognize the change in you, but because I need to talk it out. And I need to do that with you.
We don't talk about the change in you and there are times you won't acknowledge your change at all.
But, we lost our hearts. We lost who we are, who we fell in love with.
Not out of growth, but out of pain and stress and pressure.

I lost my heart.
And you did too.

I do not know how to find it again or who I will be from here on out.
As for you, you are starting to come to grips with your change. You are starting to realize you want to find who you were and bring that person back into our light.
You are finding your softer edges and your joy again. You are finding your heart, who you were - who you always were - and who you still are.

I lost my heart.
And you did too.
I lost who I was.
And you did too.
I lost who I wanted to be.
And I'm still quite a bit lost.

I will work on me because you are working on you.
I will work on what I will now become because you are getting back to who you were.

I lost my heart.
And you did too.

Kindness eases change / Love quiets fear –OCTAVIA E. BUTLER

Love is an amazing emotion.
It takes up space, it fills the empty space in you, it washes over you like a bath.
And just like that, love makes you feel warm, cared for, present. It brings out smiles, joy, kindness.
Love is an amazing emotion.

When you are in doubt - of yourself, your worth, your self-worth - love whispers to you.
Almost like sweet nothings in your ear - love reminds you that you are important, you are here, and it matters that you are here.
Love is an amazing emotion.

Love helps with pain, sorrow, even grief.
It fixes the broken, and allows for healing.
It humbles you, it it astounding.
Love is an amazing emotion.

Love tells you to be kinder. Love reminds you that no matter what you do or don't do, it will show up.
Love won't back down, won't be afraid, won't back away.
Love is not shy, it is not written in ink, it is ever-changing, growing, evolving.
Love is an amazing emotion.

Love melts the hard spots, especially the ones in your heart.
It allows you to dream bigger, and see brighter. It asks you to forgive, it asks you to kneel and it asks you to rise.
It allows you to think about a future, with a person, in a spot, or to do more than think, to plan.
Love it an amazing emotion.

Love cannot be scripted, it does not wash away, no matter distance or circumstance.
It is ever-present, always involved.
Love asks your heart to grow and it asks it to rest. It asks it to settle into comfort as it flutters at a voice, or a sound or a smile.
Love is an amazing emotion.

I have met many lovers of love in my life.
I too am one.
I also created one.
I also adopted one.
I understand their need, their desire to feel loved, to show love, to give love, to have it received.
I understand their hearts, how pure it is.
I understand how and why they are all in on what they love, who they love. They know no other way.
I understand their emotions, I understand their power.

Love is one amazing emotion.

Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence.
You filled in where there was once limitless love, and I respect your presence.
You filled in where there was once love with limits and boundaries, and tempers, and pain, and I respect your presence.
You are the ultimate final act of love.
You are the reminder that there was unconditional, real, empathetic, caring, wonderful love.
And I respect your presence.

Our whole relationship was complicated.
Packed with fighting and times of so much rage and craze that we just walked away.
Most of my life was filled with so much anger because I could not understand you.
The time you wasted being angry, the reasons you were angry, the people you chose to be angry with, I could not understand any part of it.
And the thing that made me the most angry is you wasted time being angry and you wasted time wasting time.
You never understood that time was a gift and that all of our time is borrowed.
And yet, there were parts of you that I really understood, and I got your why.
Not always, but every once in a while, I got your why.

And the end with you was also complicated.
Filled with moments of laughter and lightness.
Filled with moments of heaviness and vulnerability.
Filled with a scared little boy and a grown man in denial.
Filled with anger and resentment.
Filled with more wasted time, and time worried about the wrong things.
Until finally, it was time to say goodbye.

Once you were gone, I had no idea where my mind, thoughts, and memories would go.
I am honored to say that I felt pure grief.
Loving, missing you, missing your big personality, pure, beautiful grief.
Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence.
I respected you from the moment you arrived, and I have not stopped.
I respect you for making me feel small and sad.
You reminded me that love once existed where you now stand so stand proud.
I respect your presence.

It felt like nothing could tear us apart. We were one family, united. We were everything and always. We were endless and always a breath away. We were each other's safety net and you were my laugh, my balance, my friends. Until we were no longer. Somewhere, somehow, we hit our limit in our limitless friendship - and it did not explode, it just vanished.
We were done, and you were all gone.
I spent months upon months upon months unable to catch my breath. I felt like I was being crushed with sadness. And then I lost my dad and I realized what I was feeling for us was grief.
Even though you still existed and walked around in the world, I was grieving you/us/ideas/love. I was grieving our love lost.
I replayed our times together and conversations. I picked up the phone countless times. I doubled over in pain. I held my son's hand as he grieved too. I curled up into a ball most nights. I yelled, I screamed, I did nothing at all but get small and quiet.
Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and not only did I not respect your presence, I tried to deny you existed. Until I had no other choice. I had to accept the fact that we were done and grief now stood proud.
Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence. The love you now replace was limitless, endless, truthful, and pure. You should stand proud because real love existed and I respect your presence.

I have had to let go of expectations of people, relationships, and what I had hoped we would be, or what I had thought we were. I have grieved safe spaces and love. Maybe something more beautiful will be born. Maybe we will be exactly what you have always told me we are. Maybe grief will help me to move on, or maybe it will keep me lingering. Maybe the love I still have will melt away the protection I am now seeking.
Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence.
I honor you for finding me because it means that I allowed my heart to feel this way. I allowed this amount of love in and outward. I poured as much of myself as I could and I am so lucky to have had this in my life. I respect your presence because it reminds me that I felt love.

As a 45-year-old woman who left her family with no reassurances, who created two amazing kids, who found the love of her life at 21, who left a career that raised her, who buried a puppy that was her reason, who is now raising those two incredible kids to be people in this world, who started a company that she adores, who has another puppy that fixed the broken, who has gone through stage after stage after stage with her husband, who walked her father to his death, who loved and lost, and lost a lot, who was born 40, who is living her best decade, who stopped proving she can do hard things, who continues to look at herself to find how to can be better, stronger, more myself. I am lost. I am living my best years and am still lost.
I have broken up with myself over and over again and I still am. I am still trying to make sense of who I am, how I fit in, where I fit in, who I need, what I need, and when.
Although I spent an entire year trying to live in a place of self-respect with boundaries on being a doormat, I still find myself, searching. I do not know what I am seeking or searching for, but I know that I am looking for something. And I know that I am grieving past lives.

Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence.
Where you now stand proud, stood a woman who was so fulfilled with her choices in love.
Where you now hold value was once a foundation that was so strong, and now is a little wobbly.
So I respect your presence. I respect your heartbeat and I respect the waves you bring.

Dear grief, you filled the place of love, and I respect your presence.
You are the ultimate final act of love.
And I respect your presence.