Ten years ago, I inherited a house.
Today, it’s the headquarters of my life’s work.
It didn’t happen overnight. In fact, if you had come over anytime in the last few years, you would have seen me waving my hands, painting invisible blueprints in the air:
"This deck will wrap all the way around..."
"The office will have floor-to-ceiling windows right here..."
"The light will pour in through this side of the house..."
It was a running joke. I called it “hallucination architecture.”
Most people couldn’t see it. I didn’t blame them.
But I saw it. I felt it.
This wasn’t just a renovation project. It was about reclaiming space and reshaping legacy.
Inheriting the Past, Building the Future
When you grow up in a house, every room holds memories.
My son’s room used to be my parents’ bedroom.
I remember exactly how it looked — where the furniture was, the art on the walls, the feeling of being a kid and peeking in.
Now I watch my son drag toys into my office while I’m on Zoom calls. I imagine future-him remembering: "My mom worked here. She was always on calls, always building something."
I want him to remember it fondly. Not as a place where work pulled me away, but where purpose and family could coexist.
That’s why our primary bedroom — the one we built from scratch — was so important. It was the first space in this house that was only ever ours. No echoes. No ghosts.
Just the beginning of a new story.
The Power of Space, Separation, and Staying the Course
I used to work in the shed. A temporary solution that served its purpose.
It gave me just enough distance between “work” and “home.” I believe deeply in that— especially for entrepreneurs and work-from-home folks. Just that 20-second walk back and forth gives your nervous system a chance to reset.
But now, this new space is different. It’s the culmination of years of dreaming, doubting, and deciding to trust the process anyway.
There were so many moments I wanted to give up or scale back.So many times I thought, “Can I really do this? How will I pay for it?”
And yet… the space exists. No new debt. No plan B.
Just a weird, wild combination of faith, windfalls, magic, and miracles.
What Are You Building That Your Future Self Will Thank You For?
This office isn’t just where I take meetings. It’s proof.
Proof that staying the course works.
Proof that energy is real.
Proof that limitations become invitations—catalysts.
Proof that legacy is something we create, not just inherit.
If you’re in the messy middle of your own project or transformation, hear me on this:
The results won’t always come fast.
But they will come.
And they’ll be even better than you imagined.
So… what are you building today that your future self will thank you for?
Send me a DM on Instagram or LinkedIn and let’s talk about it!
Member discussion