The counselor's office was quiet except for the sound of papers shuffling across her desk. "So you'll complete these extra credits during your first two hours each day," she explained, sliding the schedule toward me. "Then you can go to work for the rest of the day. If you stick with this plan, you'll graduate before the baby comes."
I nodded, gathering the papers and tucking them into my backpack. As I walked out of her office, my APD uniform waited for me in the car. I had a four-hour shift ahead, and my swollen feet were already protesting the idea.
At seventeen, I was about to become a mother, but I was determined not to become a statistic. No matter what, I would finish high school.
The Road Less Traveled
Maybe you've found yourself on an unexpected path — one you never planned to walk but suddenly became your only way forward. Perhaps you're standing at a crossroads right now, wondering how you'll manage to balance all the responsibilities before you. I want you to know that the most challenging journeys often lead to the most beautiful destinations.
When I discovered I was pregnant during my senior year of high school, I knew my life was going to change drastically. Instead of falling apart, I was about to learn my first major lesson in resilience — one that would shape everything that followed.
I wasn't willing to be a burden on my mom. She had raised me and my sister alone since I was seven, and I wouldn't add to her load. So my boyfriend Frankie and I moved out, got our own place, and prepared to become parents. I worked at APD until my doctor made me quit at seven months pregnant, determined to stand on my own two feet.
When people ask me how I did it — working, finishing school, preparing for a baby all at once — I don't have a profound answer. You just do what needs to be done. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time. It's a lesson I've carried with me through every challenge since: keep moving forward, no matter what.
My Greatest Teacher
In the spring of my senior year, Symone came into the world — all pink and perfect and absolutely terrifying in her tiny perfection. I had graduated just weeks before, meeting my goal of finishing school before becoming a mother.
What no one tells you about having a baby at seventeen is that suddenly everything becomes crystal clear. All the petty high school drama that once seemed so important fades away. Your priorities shift instantly and permanently. For me, Symone wasn't a detour from my future — she became my reason for creating a better one.
"When she found out she wasn't an accident, she thought I was crazier than when she thought she was an accident," I often joke. The truth is, while Symone wasn't exactly planned, I knew I wanted a baby. Once I found out I was pregnant, I wanted her with my whole heart. She'll be thirty-five this year, and she remains one of my greatest blessings.
Frankie and I tried to make a go of it, but our marriage ended when Symone was just nine months old. We were too young, too different, too unprepared for the realities of parenthood and partnership. It would take years before we found our way to a healthy relationship as co-parents, but eventually, we got there.
Finding My Voice
Being a single mom at eighteen taught me to advocate not just for myself but for this tiny human who depended on me. I enrolled in college with dreams of becoming a social worker, determined to build a stable future for us.
What many people don't know about me is that before all this, I attended a performing arts high school. I danced, I sang, I stood on stage with all eyes on me. That experience — learning to project my voice, to command attention, to present myself with confidence — would later prove invaluable in ways I couldn't have imagined.
Between classes and caring for Symone, I explored different ways to make ends meet. I sold Tupperware, Avon, Party Lite — any direct sales opportunity that offered flexibility and the promise of independence. I was drawn to the freedom these opportunities represented, the ability to set my own schedule and be my own boss. Though none of these ventures made me rich, they taught me valuable lessons about connecting with people, understanding their needs, and providing solutions.
A New Chapter
Five years after Symone was born, life took another unexpected turn. While working a temporary job at a winery, I met a man, fell in love, and soon welcomed my second daughter, Destiny. For a time, I stayed home with my girls, embracing the role of full-time mom.
Then disaster struck. An apartment fire left us with nothing but what we could fit in boxes. Needing a fresh start, I took the girls to visit my mom in Sonoma, California. What was meant to be a brief stay turned into a new beginning when my mom threw out her back and needed help. Unlike my younger sister, who was twenty-one and enjoying the carefree life I never had, I stepped up to care for Mom.
"Whoever gets the best job first goes to work," I told my husband once it became clear we were staying in Sonoma. We both started applying, and I "won" with a retail position at McCaulou's, a local chain store with about fifteen locations throughout Northern California.
Never Just an Employee
Here's something you should know about me: I've never been able to just clock in and clock out. When I commit to something, I give it everything. I started at McCaulou's as a part-time sales associate, nervous about being away from my kids after years at home. But I discovered I was good at retail — really good. I loved helping customers find exactly what they needed, and I had a knack for the business side of things.
Within a few years, I went from part-time sales to full-time, then to managing the receiving department, then to running my own store. Eventually, I became a buyer's assistant, traveling to New York for market weeks — selecting merchandise that would eventually fill the shelves of all fifteen stores.
When I'm on salary, I often joke it's "cheap labor" because I'll work eighty hours when only forty are expected. It's just how I'm wired. I can't help but pour myself completely into whatever I'm doing.
Starting Over Again
Despite professional success, my personal life was unraveling. My marriage had become unbearable, and I found myself at my mother's doorstep once again.
"Mom, can I live with you? I can't be with this man anymore. I have nothing," I told her. "I'll figure it out, but I just gotta get out. Don't let me go back to him, no matter what I say."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Don't let me go back. Remind me of this."
"Okay," she promised.
At thirty, I was starting over again — a single mom with two daughters and no clear direction. I took online assessments, read books about finding your purpose, and kept coming back to two options: retail or real estate. I'd already proven myself in retail, but something about real estate called to me.
I'd never bought a house. I'd never been to an open house. I'd never even seen a real estate contract. But my mom thought it would be perfect for me. I liked people, I was good at sales, and I had that hunger for independence that had driven me since childhood.
The Mr. Rogers Routine
Getting started in real estate isn't easy, especially as a single parent with no savings. I needed income while I built my business, so I got my first-ever waitressing job at thirty years old. For about a year, I lived what I called my "Mr. Rogers routine."
I'd be at the restaurant in jeans and a t-shirt, smiling at customers: "Hi Joe, would you like a beer? Would you like some fries with that?" Then I'd dash three blocks down the street, changing in the bathroom into my professional clothes before meeting clients: "So, are we looking for three bedrooms or two?"
It wasn't glamorous. There were days when I was exhausted, days when I wondered if I'd made a huge mistake. But gradually, as I built my client base and closed more deals, I was able to leave the restaurant behind and focus solely on real estate.
Flying High, Then Falling Hard
By 2008, I had my California real estate license and was thriving. I found a company called "By Referral Only" and worked with a coach who helped me refine my approach. I attended conferences, networked with industry leaders like Joe Stumpf, and even appeared in a real estate magazine. Things were looking up.
Then I made a critical mistake — one that would later inform how I guide my clients through their own real estate decisions. I did exactly what I would never allow my clients to do: I got an adjustable-rate mortgage on my home.
When the market crashed in 2008, everything fell apart. As a single mom with two girls, my only income came from an industry that had just imploded. Within two months, my mortgage payment doubled from $1,500 to $2,800 a month. I couldn't keep up. I lost my house.
The Phoenix Rises
Faced with financial ruin, I made the difficult decision to move back to Washington state. I got my Washington real estate license and began the painstaking process of rebuilding my life and career from scratch.
Looking back on that journey — from teenage mother to successful real estate agent, through fires and foreclosures and fresh starts — I realize something profound: I am a heck of a lot tougher than I look. I might be silly and lighthearted on the surface, but underneath is a foundation of iron.
I learned that you have to go through a lot of hardship before you stop letting setbacks ruin your whole day. Each challenge made me stronger, more resilient, more determined to create a stable future for my girls and myself.
And perhaps most importantly, I gained firsthand knowledge of both the power and the pitfalls of real estate. I've experienced the joy of helping clients find their perfect home, and I've felt the devastation of losing my own. That perspective — that hard-won wisdom — is something I bring to every client interaction.
Because when you work with me, you're not just getting an agent who knows the market. You're getting someone who has lived through the highest highs and lowest lows of real estate, someone who will fight to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did, someone who understands exactly what's at stake when you sign those papers.
That's the journey that brought me here. And every step of it, every triumph and every heartbreak, has made me exactly the agent you need by your side.