I didn’t grow up with shortcuts or silver spoons. In my hometown, the rules were simple: if you wanted something, you earned it. No handouts, no hacks, just hard work.

I put myself through school by bartending and built a career in tech by showing up early, staying late, and doing the unglamorous things no one else wanted to do. Nothing about my journey has been easy—but I wouldn’t trade it. My grit has been sharpened by experience and softened by perspective. It’s what makes me dependable under pressure and unafraid of new challenges and unknown unknowns.

When it’s time to get things done, I’m ready—and not just to execute, but to lead with empathy, stay steady through ambiguity, and make sure no one’s left behind in the process.

Learning what not to do on a chicken farm in Colorado.

At home on the Appalachain Trail.

Posing with Sherpa, our pointer mutt.

Admiring my new home in Colorado on moving day.

After spending 7 years in the mountains, we bought a piece for ourselves. Our first picture closing on 80 acres of land in Villa Grove, CO.

In 15+ years of product, I’ve done a little bit of everything—helpdesk, QA, UX, research, product management, co-founding, and leading teams across disciplines. I didn’t set out to become a Swiss Army knife, but I’ve learned that knowing how each layer of a product comes together makes you a stronger innovator, collaborator, and leader.

I like to think of myself as a chameleon that can blend with Engineers, PMs, Designers, Researchers, Execs, and most importantly users. That means I can bridge the gaps between good ideas and great execution and help bring disparate skills together behind a common goal.

I don’t just consider how something should look or feel but also how it gets built, what constraints shape it, and how to make it better the next time around. I’m not above the weeds or too proud to get in them. I show up with range, clarity, and a bias toward action.

Here I am installing our MVP for Kit Check at a hospital in Vermont.

A typical day at the office for me includes lots of planning, strategizing and dreaming around a whiteboard.

When I'm not in the office I like being in the field, this paper prototype was whipped up in-between meetings at two school districts in 2021.

The best products I’ve worked on didn’t come from lone genius—they came from tight-knit, cross-functional teams aligned around a clear vision.

Whether I’m setting the direction or helping others shine, I thrive in the in-between: translating strategy into action, designs into code, and most importantly - ambiguity into momentum. That approach has earned me some internal awards I'm pretty proud of, like Innovator of the Year and Unsung Hero.

More importantly, it's earned me the trust of teammates who’ve become lifelong collaborators (and in one very special case, a lifelong partnership).

A portrait in whiteboard marker done by one of my teammates at Aetna.

One of the first product teams I served on still makes time for teambuilding, 10 years later.

After years of working as colleagues and business partners, Nick and I decided to become life partners as well.

I have two wild, wonderful, and—on most days—completely feral children. Before becoming a parent, I thought I understood multitasking. Then we brought two tornadoes into the world and blew that theory to pieces.

Our days revolve around watching heavy machinery lift things, tossing ping-pong balls into the air, and singing Wheels on the Bus fifty times in a row. Life is loud, messy, and usually covered in almond butter—but it’s also full of joy. Their feedback is unfiltered, their demands are relentless, their love is pure, and their negotiation tactics could rattle a UN delegate.

Some days we feel like we've crushed it. Other days, ketchup is the only vegetable we consume and someone's wearing a colander as a hat. Somehow, we always make it to bedtime—with a lot of love and a few well-timed bribes.

This is the face of a woman who just dropped a sock and seriously considered leaving it there forever.

Both of us kicking back and crossing our feet for a night of sleeping in the rocking chair.

We found mini-golf to be a fun and often free-for-children-under-2 activity that keeps us in the sunshine.

I was 35 when I took my first riding lesson, thinking it would be something fun to try on a pretty day in March. I didn’t expect it to change how I see myself, my work, and my leadership style in general.

Horses are therapeutic in the same way a mirror is—they show you what you’re carrying, whether you like it or not. If you’re anxious, they feel it. If you fake confidence, they don’t budge. The only way to earn their trust is by consistently being someone they can count on even when things go sideways. They’ve taught me to take my time, drop my ego, and be okay with not having all the answers.

After a few years of learning and growing in this passion, I'm still not totally sure I'm doing any of it "right", but I keep showing up and so do they and that feels like enough.

My first riding lesson at the age of 35 on a horse named 'Toothpick'.

For me mucking stalls is just as fun as going for a ride.

Covering some pretty country in Salida, CO.