About Me

On Writing

Writing was never the plan. It was not part of who I was or who I’d thought I’d be. This blog was birthed from a 10 Day life-accelerator and the realization that while my life was pretty spectacular, there was something else burning inside of me. Sometimes you take steps not knowing where they lead, and I can say the wildly uncomfortable confrontation with myself has changed me. And by sharing these parts of myself, I’ve been privileged to connect with others through my words.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do come up with some pretty good questions.

On Selling

I wasn’t born a salesperson, which has given me the lens to take on life in the same way: Everything can be learned.

Selling is an important part of everyday life, because everything we do –in life, work, relationships– is some type of selling.

I’m passionate about breaking down the negative stereotypes and conventional ways people have approached sales. Everyone can (and should) be great at selling.

Sales (and heartbreak, I’ve learned) are powerful vehicles for personal growth and self-discovery.

I write through sales and relationships to confront fear, rejection, and the things we think and don’t say out loud.

On Beer

I ran sales for a company that designed and made tap handles and did brewery branding for four years. After my heart tugged long and hard enough to pursue something bigger, I decided to go off-script and take an unknowing leap. I took an exhilarating dive into uncertainty.

I somehow found myself back in the beer industry, which felt like coming home… A new, improved home. My current position satisfies my desire to have impact beyond profit, while combining my appreciation for good design and coffee/beer.

There’s no such thing as a favorite beer, only a “right now” beer (although I’ll drink a sour beer any day of the week.)

I have a deep appreciation for brewers as a whole, and how they craft something they put so much heart into and share with all of us. I’ve been privileged to have been to hundreds of breweries and get an intimate look at them.

I find the smell of malt and the sight of stainless steel intoxicating.


I quit. My journey back to writing:

(An excerpt from a post I wrote for a guest blog.)

Who am I, or rather who am I not? The last year has been more of a purging and shedding of all the badges I used to wear, the titles I thought that mattered, and the things (literal “things” as in worldly possessions) I thought defined me. Piece by piece, I’ve removed parts of myself that I held onto, and in discarding these pieces, I found that the real answer was I used them to hide.

I hid behind designer labels and awards that told me I had made it. I hid behind pictures of smiling Jean that masked the hurts and rejections and questions the past year handed me.

It’s scary seeing yourself symbolically naked. If I hid behind past achievements and a carefully-crafted persona, I wouldn’t have to risk being seen for who I was, to be rejected or cast-away for being the real me. The evolved me.

And while we want to stand out in a world that’s so overly noisy, being really seen can be scary as hell.

The old me was accepted, there was no guessing. My life came in a safe, predictable package. Like the safety in watching a movie you already love, you rest in the solace of knowing how it will end. My parents would heartily approve and be relieved that I’d be properly “taken care of”. Big sigh there.

I was following the path that was expected of me, the job I easily excelled at and wouldn’t have to prove myself again, while I felt tormented, unstretched, and no longer challenged. I immersed in a relationship that accepted and wanted me exactly as-is, yet was simultaneously terrified of who I was becoming for fear I’d outgrow it.

And in this space, I was no longer a writer. It was a costume I’d tried on for a period of time. My blog was a fun experiment, and it’s time had passed. Cute.

No matter how much growth and self-awareness we experience, our insecurities and fears and self-criticisms find their way through. They craft these narratives that tell us we are. And we assess what we are not.

The breakthrough is in deciding whether we listen and follow, or we instead fight our way back.

And then, like that, life packed me a punch. One quit job, months of settling into a life that woke me up night after night in 3 am insomnia, another quit business venture, an ugly break-up, and a new job later… It was clear.

It was time to fight my way back.

The words inside me wanted out. The stories, the learning, the un-doings, the pain… They wanted a voice. They ached to be seen. So I grasped the very thing I’d been avoiding with a shaking commitment to 100 days of writing. In this space, I saw it all in front of me. My truth spilling out in high-resolution, bold font, and pent-up paragraphs.

Word after word effortlessly poured out, it was undeniable. What I found was who I was not, which is how I found my path back to myself again. And a year later, I sit upon this stool furiously writing. Again.

And hot damn, it’s good to be home.

What I’m doing now:

Vice President of Sales for MiiR

Insatiably curious and pushing my edges

Co-Authored Before You Quit Writing, Read This

UW Huskies and Seattle sports fan


If you want to riff or have questions, I’d love to hear from you.

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