I was not raised with privilege. I was raised with responsibility.

I grew up in a small town on a working cow farm, living in trailers and manufactured homes. Before most kids were awake, I was feeding animals, weeding gardens, washing dishes, and driving tractors all before the age of seven. I wore secondhand clothes, sometimes ones I sewed myself. I learned early that life does not hand you ease, it hands you opportunity disguised as work.

That foundation built something in me: resilience, discipline, humility, and grit.

I graduated high school, attended college at night, and earned my Associate degree in Accounting while building a life that required strength long before I realized I had it.

I have been a single mother for over thirty years. That road shaped me in ways no title ever could. It also gave me my two greatest accomplishments my children. They are not just part of my story; they are proof of my endurance, leadership, and growth.

Professionally, I have spent nearly three decades in Corporate America. I understand pressure. I understand performance. I understand navigating complexity at high levels. But my education did not come only from boardrooms.

I have battled and overcome alcoholism, I have survived loving someone through addiction, I have faced violence, and I have endured situations that could have broken me.

There were seasons I questioned why I survived some of it.

What I know now is this: survival was not the end of my story leadership was.

There was a time when I believed I was not worthy of taking time for myself. I told myself happiness was for other people. I minimized my value. I carried insecurities rooted in where I came from instead of recognizing the strength it gave me. I once referred to myself as “trailer trash.” Today, I call myself a trailer treasure because your beginnings do not define your ceiling.

Over a decade ago, I created what became A Day of Hope, a structured, intentional reset that rebuilt my self-trust, restored my clarity, and changed the trajectory of my life. What started as survival became strategy. What began as healing became leadership.

I no longer apologize for taking up space in my own life.

I am the Founder and CEO of Hope’s Highways, and my mission is clear:
Empowering high-functioning women to reclaim their power and lead themselves well.

I do this work because I have lived the cost of not doing it.

I built a process that helped me stop surviving and start leading.
I built a structure that restored my hope, and I built a company from that conviction.

I am the CEO of my own life and I help other women become the same.