I didn’t become a strategist because it sounded impressive.

I became one because my life required structure.

I have been a full time entrepreneur since 2013. No safety net. No backup plan. No second income. I built my business while raising two boys as a single mother, relying on systems, intention, and discipline to create stability, income, and peace for more than a decade.

There is no winging it when you are the sole provider.

There is no luxury of burnout.

There is no room for disorganization masquerading as ambition.

Structure saved me.

Systems sustained me.

In 2021, I won custody of my sons, a moment that demanded my life be stable, grounded, and intentional in every way. Two little Black boys were looking at me as their entire world. That responsibility reshaped how I built, how I worked, and how I led.

Every bill I have paid, every trip I have taken my children on, every ounce of stability they have experienced, I created it. Sometimes through strategy. Sometimes through sheer will. Always through structure.

When people call me consistent, I smile. Not because it is a personality trait, but because it was required. Raising two children alone forced me to build routines that worked, systems that protected my time, and automations that preserved my mental bandwidth.

There is nothing theoretical about my work.

I lived the cost of disorganization emotionally, financially, and physically.

I learned that structure is the difference between drowning and breathing.

Systems are not optional. They are survival.

They are how I grew a business with toddlers, navigated court dates without losing clients, rebuilt my peace after exhaustion, and created a life where abundance is expected, not prayed for.

This is my lived curriculum.

I teach what I live.

I build what I know works.