Every job I have ever had has, at its core, been the same job.
Take care of the people.
That's it. That's the whole thing.
Before I became a coach, I was the person companies called when something needed to be built from scratch. I spent over a decade in operations and people leadership. Everything I learned about building cultures, developing people, and the resilience of the human spirit became the foundation for the work I do now.
Now I write, speak, and coach on the human cost of AI in the workplace, because the companies that win in this next era will not be the most efficient. They will be the most human.
Everything I needed to say started with losing everything I had built.
Before I ever worked in tech, I was an entrepreneur. A wedding planner, a restaurant consultant, hotels. I built things from scratch with my own hands and my own money, so I know what it feels like to bet on yourself with no safety net. The fear. The grind. The months you are not sure the math will work. Somewhere in there I looked up and realized I was building beautiful moments for everyone else while missing the important ones in my own life. Then I spent over a decade in tech and learned the other side. The golden handcuffs. The comfort that slowly becomes a cage. The way you trade pieces of yourself for a paycheck until the person sitting in that meeting is not you anymore. I have lived both lives, all the way down. That is why I can sit with you in either one.
I went to Twitter and learned what it looks like when a company moves at velocity, and what it costs when the culture cannot keep up. Then I spent seven years helping operationalize a scrappy startup into one of the major players in retail tech delivery. I was the problem solver, the one they called when a new pillar needed to stand up from nothing. I built across marketing, DEI, HR, and learning and development. I built employee value propositions. I helped rebuild the company brand three times. I was all in.
Then I went on mental health leave, the thing every HR Business Partner will tell you to do. And while I was on leave, I got the call. I had been restructured out. The job I loved, the people I loved working with, everything I had built, gone in the span of minutes. Right when I thought I had finally gotten it right.
So we left. I packed up my husband Brandon, my daughter Kaia, and our rescue pittie Bailey, and we traded the rat race for the waves and the tradewinds. I grieved out there, the job, the identity, the life I thought I was building. But I also healed, and I found the thing underneath all of it: everything I had learned about culture, about human-centered work, about what actually matters in this new era of AI. I wrote it down at a kitchen table in O’ahu. Not because I had a secret formula, but because I did the work. The real, unglamorous, terrifying, beautiful work of figuring out who you are when the title is gone. As the person paying the bills for my family, I could not afford to be reckless. I could only afford to be brave and strategic at the same time.
Companies I've Built Inside
WHAT I DO NOW
I write and speak about the human cost of AI in the workplace.
I help people figure out what actually lights their soul on fire. And I work with leaders who want to build cultures so good that people choose to give their best — not just show up.
My signature role — the Chief Heart Officer — is a call for every company to put a human advocate at the leadership table, with budget, authority, and one question before every decision:
What is the human cost of this?
The people who make this life possible.
Now you know who I am.
Here is how we can work together.
Whether you are rebuilding your career, rebuilding your team, or just looking for someone who gets it — pull up a chair.