Bio

In 2009, I walked away from a corporate job to open an unregulated cannabis store in one of the most conservative counties in California. I had no business background, no industry experience, and only a four-figure investment. But I also had a vision I couldn't shake, combined with a stubborn refusal to let anyone talk me out of it.

Eleven years later, I sold two thriving, state-licensed operations valued at $15M to the once iconic cannabis brand High Times.

"Permission to stop shrinking

and start taking up space."

What happened in between reads like a story someone invented: running an all-cash business locked out of the banking system, navigating IRS audits and precarious local politics, lobbying California state legislators as Policy Director for a state trade association, speaking before Congress, and building a team that stayed loyal because I treated them like the gold they were.

Then I sold the businesses, wrote a book, moved across the country, came out as a lesbian at 49, lost the equivalent of $12M private shares, woke TF up spiritually, divorced my first girlfriend, and started completely over. Again.

I am not a business coach. I am not a life coach. I am someone who has lived an extraordinary, unconventional, sometimes absurd life and refused, at every turn, to shrink into something more palatable. My talks don't hand you a framework; they hand you back your nerve.

That tagline — permission to stop shrinking and start taking up space — is not a slogan I adopted. It's the thing I wish someone had said to me twenty years earlier. It runs through everything I've done, every room I've walked into, every version of myself I've had the audacity to become. It's what I'm here to say to you.

I now live in Vermont, where I'm percolating SoulTerra, a first-of-its-kind adults-only spiritual wellness retreat and animal sanctuary.

I share my home with two dogs, three cats, and, reportedly, a rock that sleeps in my bed.