The long way here.

One of my earliest memories is traveling to church to tell children's stories. I loved the story, but I also loved learning how to pull people in: when to move, what would get their attention, how to hold it, and where to take it next.

I played cello and piano growing up, learning mostly by ear because reading music was hard for me. I could read it on a basic level, but not consistently enough to sight-read in orchestra. So I found another way. I always have.

My mom ran her own branding consultancy. I watched her design, print invitations, clip corners, punch holes, and lay ribbon. I never thought I would end up doing the same kind of work, but the seeds were there before I knew what to call them.

Right after high school, I went to college for music education because I thought I might become a music therapist. I liked being independent. I did not like school. I stopped going to classes that felt disconnected from what I was there to learn, and eventually I was expelled for poor grades.

I ended up working at a restaurant. A coworker who was a musician needed help finding guests for his radio show, so I started reaching out, networking, and bringing artists in. Then I started making graphics. I found Canva around 2018, and something clicked.

Later, a nerd community I was part of wanted to make a magazine like IGN or Game Informer. I had never designed a magazine, but I offered to try. That became social media management, a new logo, thumbnails, and an entire brand kit. I was teaching myself by saying yes before I felt qualified.

My mom and I were living together with my kids when we got evicted. I moved in with my kids' dad. It was tight and unpleasant. Neither of us was working, and the money was gone.

We called our moms for help. They both said the same thing: “You have to do something for yourself.” So I took my kids' dad's workstation, installed Canva and every free tool I could find, and got started.

I had no idea what content to make. I went through three different logos. I copied what I saw other people doing, and none of it worked. But friends knew my situation and gave me a chance. Those were my first clients.

Small opportunities kept coming: social media work for an artist, a project here, another one there. Eventually I applied for a marketing manager job at a nonprofit, even though I did not have the degree the role usually required.

I came prepared. I took one of their social posts and redesigned it. Everything I had learned from building my own site, working with friends, and serving those first clients gave me enough language to walk in and talk the talk.

I felt fake. I felt like an imposter. I got the job anyway.

I learned a lot in that job, and while I was there I became certified in emotional CPR. I kept feeling pulled toward the emotional side of the work: the fears, the blocks, and the human things business language tends to skip.

Then I was laid off in 2025. The job market was stagnant and I had a household to take care of, so I went all in on the business. But I was trying to get back in by doing what everybody else was doing. It did not feel genuine. My ideas did not stick. I could not stay consistent.

So I stopped. I went to therapy. I sat with childhood and maternal trauma. I got curious about how my brain worked and why I kept trying to build over the parts of me that needed care.

I realized the people I am meant to help are the people who feel the way I felt: overwhelmed, full of ideas but stuck, talented but paralyzed, unable to move because their nervous system is offline.

That's when The Motions were born. That's when the Heart + Structure Method finally made sense.

Most branding starts with colors and fonts. I start with your nervous system. You cannot build something authentic from overwhelm, make clear decisions through fog, or show up consistently while running on fumes. We begin with what is happening inside, and then we build something strong enough to hold the truth we find there.