The Identity Shift

I used to think being a 'Founder' meant relentless growth, scaling at all costs, and being the last one to turn off the lights. Then, life happened all at once.

Within a single year, both my father and my brother were fighting stage four cancer. I realized that my business was a vehicle, but my family was the destination. I made the hardest, simplest decision of my life: I sold my business to become a full-time caregiver.

That 'hell of a year' stripped away everything I thought I knew about success. It taught me that the most successful founders aren't just those who build empires, but those who have the gentleness and strength to show up for what truly matters. Welcome to The Gentle Founder.

I didn’t set out to build The Gentle Founder as a wellness space.
It came out of necessity.

I live with chronic illness. Conditions that don’t announce themselves loudly, but never fully leave. Autoimmune disease, inflammation, fatigue, and nervous system overwhelm. Some days are functional. Some days are not. And woven through all of it, now, is grief. The kind that doesn’t resolve. The kind that quietly rearranges everything.

My dad and brother died this summer. Writing that still feels unreal. Their warmth, humor, steadiness. My brother, especially, was the person who sent me links, ideas, encouragement… always believing I could do more than I thought I could. His absence is present in my mornings, my body, my pauses. Losing a parent is hard. Losing a sibling is shattering.

This space isn’t about overcoming any of that. It’s about learning how to live alongside it.

The Gentle Founder exists because I needed a way to build something without violence toward myself. Without the grind. Without pretending my nervous system could tolerate what the world often demands. This is a place for those of us who create, work, lead, and love… while managing pain, loss, uncertainty, and invisible weight.

There’s no fix promised here.
No miracle routine.
No “before and after.”

Just lived-in practices. Beautiful things that help. Honest reflections. Soft structure. Enough discipline to keep going, and enough grace to stop when needed.

If you’re here because your body changed, your life shifted, or your heart cracked open… you’re not late. You’re right on time.