When Reinvention Becomes the Real Journey

Over the years, I’ve worn a lot of hats. I spent ten years in the service industry, more than six years running a landscape contracting company, over five years as a full-time artist, and somewhere in between, I owned an event planning company and a screen printing business. The list feels endless at this point.

Each season taught me something valuable. Each chapter shaped me, even when I didn’t realize it at the time. And because so many of you are navigating transitions of your own, wondering whether all the twists and turns in your story actually matter, let me say this clearly: they do.

They matter more than you think.

Today I want to open up about a chapter that surprises a lot of people: my years as a landscape contractor. Yes, I used to own a landscaping company. It was sweaty, dirty, exhausting work, but it was also a masterclass in vision, design, leadership, and alignment. And those lessons still influence me in unexpected ways.

This month I’ve been experimenting with something new. I’m not teaching from an outline. I’m not coming in with bullet points or a plan. I’m letting these episodes be conversations. A chance for you to get to know me a little more deeply. A chance for me to remember what shaped me. So today, we’re starting here.

How It All Began

I went to LSU for graphic design, but I grew up in a family where the outdoors were basically a love language. My dad could build anything. My mom was a Louisiana Master Gardener. Our backyard was always full of decks, walkways, ponds, landscaping, and projects that felt like they never stopped.

After college, I was freelancing as a graphic designer and running a screen printing business. I was married at the time, and my husband started a lawn company. Some of his clients began asking about flower beds and landscaping. He wasn’t interested in that part, but I was.

I saw a need and an opportunity. So I got licensed, trained, and stepped right into the role of landscape contractor. Before I knew it, I had a crew, a truck, trailers, equipment, and jobs rolling in—thanks to word of mouth from his clients and my regulars at the bar where I had worked for years.

My sister was my first employee. My closest friend soon joined us too. We were young, full of energy, and figuring it out as we went. And even though I made plenty of mistakes, that season remains one of the most transformative of my life.

The Lessons the Landscape Taught Me

One thing landscaping taught me is that nature is a quiet teacher. It reveals truths about life long before we’re ready to understand them.

1. You have to cut things back so they can grow.

When you prune a plant, you remove what’s dead, diseased, or no longer contributing to its vitality. If you don’t, the plant will keep sending energy to what cannot be saved.

Life is the same.

There are habits, relationships, patterns, and commitments that no longer nurture our growth. Letting them go feels uncomfortable, but it frees energy for what is meant to flourish.

Pruning isn’t destruction. It’s direction.

2. How you cut determines how you grow.

In landscaping, the angle and placement of a cut shape the direction of new growth. You can literally guide a plant into forming a fuller, healthier, more intentional shape.

In life, the way we end things matters.

The way we step away, the decisions we make, the boundaries we set, and the intentions we bring into transitions shape what comes next. Growth isn’t random. It responds to the way we choose to move.

3. Not all roots are built the same.

I’ve dug up, replanted, and handled more root systems than I can count. Some plants are root-bound, circling the pot they’ve outgrown. Some are shallow and fragile. Some are deep, strong, and ready to anchor into new soil the moment they touch the ground.

People are like that too.

Some of us stay in environments we’ve outgrown because it’s familiar. Some of us need gentle loosening to expand again. Some of us thrive the moment we’re planted somewhere with space and nourishment.

But every root system can be strengthened. Every plant can thrive in the right conditions. Every person can grow when given room, support, and light.

The Season That Grew Me

Running that landscape company taught me leadership before I realized I was leading. It taught me resilience before I knew what burnout looked like. It taught me alignment before I had the language for it.

I didn’t build that business perfectly. Far from it. But I built it with heart. I built it with a willingness to learn. I built it because something in me knew I needed that chapter, even if I wouldn’t understand why until much later.

Now, as I step into holistic coaching and business alignment work, I see how all of it connects. Every job. Every business. Every pivot. Every moment I felt lost or underqualified or uncertain.

It all mattered.

It all shaped the woman I am becoming.

And I hope that wherever you are in your own story, this reminds you that your twists and turns are not detours. They’re preparation. They’re the roots being loosened, the branches being pruned, the ground being cleared for whatever comes next.

If this resonates with you, you can go deeper by listening to Episode 54 of the podcast, “Rising Through the Roots: Life Lessons from Landscaping”. It’s the perfect companion for this moment.