“‎You were much more... muchier... you've lost your muchness.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Lewis Carroll? He gets it. When you’re running a business, losing your “muchness” is easy.

You were creative once? That’s nice. But have you filed your quarterlies yet? Before you know it, the heart of what makes your business, well, yours, is lost in the noise.

I’m on a mission to change that. Because here’s the thing: your story is the beating heart of your business. When you lose sight of it, you lose what makes you unique. And more importantly, you lose the ability to connect.

In college, I fell in love with long-form storytelling. I quickly realized I excel at drawing the complicated strings of a life story together and helping others understand its broader meaning.

See, I’m a sucker for a well-built world (Wonderland included), and stories are in my blood. My parents are songwriters and essayists. One grandmother wrote nonfiction while the other taught first graders how to read. My grandfather preached revivals and saved his hand-written sermons for decades.

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At Indiana University, I won national awards for Enterprise and Sports Reporting, and selection as ACP's College Reporter of the Year. Then, I took jobs at newspapers in Dallas, Tampa, and Chattanooga, where my reporting focused on human misbehavior. 

But professional success does not a good personal life make. In 2014, my father, a longtime addict, died unexpectedly, and all the careful walls of structure and success I’d built came down. I began to realize that reporting no longer made me happy—like Alice, I had lost my muchness.

Sharing my story has been cathartic, yes, but it’s also helped me build connections. It’s changed my business. I know yours can do the same—and I can help.

The stories I love:


When my dad died unexpectedly, my life fell apart. Grief will blow a hole in even our best laid plans.

But when that hole opened up, it shone a light on everything in my life that made me unhappy and unwell.

His death reminded me that life is too short not to say what we mean.


I met Kurt on Bumble because, standing in a field of sawgrass on a solo trip to Hawaii, I knew knew I had to move back to Indianapolis.

I didn’t have a plan. I did have faith.

I believe that, during the times in my life when I’ve need him AND been willing to listen, God’s made it clear he has my back.


Who has two thumbs and considers herself a cat person, through and through? 🙋

Dogs are great and all, but what I love about cats is that they don’t care what you think. Not. One. Bit.

This lil’ buddy is a constant reminder that doing no harm and taking no s*$% can coexist.