We all have this thing on the inside that we dream about someday having or becoming. For me, I wanted a business that was beautiful and helpful in some way. It really didn’t make any sense to open a boutique in a town of 500 people, but I was like “I have to do this, I absolutely need to know what will happen if I do this.” SO I did it.
Launched Red Brick Boutique with only $2000 the same week my son Phoenix was born. I remember having contractions while we are unpacking boxes at 9 months pregnant. I was DETERMINED to get this store open!
Had my first $1000 in sales day! I started making jewelry and hosted fun, wild events. Those two things would accidentally attract the customers I needed to reach my boutique goals. There were still $0 sales days that made me cry though, if I’m honest lol.
At 30 years old, I had a thriving store on the brink of a second location. Plus the glamorous lifestyle of traveling all over buying and selling. My fashion shows were completely sold out and my competitors were sitting in the audience. All in a town of 500 people.
All the other stores wanted sponsorships and help with their advertising from me. It was awesome but I was SO TIRED, with absolutely no time to do anything but work.
The last day came when I was running from my burning home at 11:49pm with only my one year old in my arms. Suddenly priorities became clear. I gladly sold my store to an amazing human so I could focus on my babies. That’s the thing about running a business, we can’t ever let it cost us too much.
Spent two full years re-building my life and trying all the coaching things. From ad writing to high profile consulting and living room coaching. I kind of lost myself trying to be all “professional” but I finally landed on my creative self again. Now I help boutique owners build the dream. YAY I love it!
I have finally found the courage to say “This is what I do. This is who I am. This is how I can help you.” It’s scary because I knew it would leave me open to criticism and failure. But I keep showing up because owning my surprising big-ness matters so darn much. And it’s my hope to be there for you as you find your own big-ness.
I believe in a creator who loves us. He doesn’t demand to be known or understood. Yet He walks with us. Through our darkness He soberly remains steady and nearby. In our joy He laughs with us. Even as we wonder “God where are you?” He stands close, ready to be seen. That’s the creator I know and love as my closest friend.