Everything Started from a Spark

What do fires, love, and entrepreneurship have in common?

 They all start with a spark.

And let me tell you – I’ve had a personal run in with all three! One lit up my house. One lit up my trauma. And one lit up my office supplies with glitter! I’ll let you guess which one was the most fun!

Go back with me really quick to December 19th, 2012.

Six days before Christmas, our family home caught fire and left a pile of ashes. The home built on 30 years of my parents’ marriage, family photos, ornaments made from macaroni and dreams.

The cause?

A spark—from an electrical outlet that caught momentum and quickly spread through the walls. Through every room. Through every picture on the wall and gift under the tree.

It’s funny how a little spark… can change everything.

I come from a family of “doers”. Fixers. Figure-it-out-ers. The kind of people who don’t wait for a rescue. They grab a shovel, call a neighbor, start over. That fire destroyed our home, but the ashes it left revealed a deeper kind of strength, and a renewed hope in humanity.

Seven months later—July 2013—I stood in a brand new rebuilt house. Fresh paint. New walls. And the smell of drywall dust still in the air.  

But there was something else new, and in the air.

LOVE! And a firefighter I’d met online. And clearly, I hadn’t had enough fire in my life at that point… so I did what any love struck, late 20-something would do… I married him.

The cause?

A spark – from chemistry, laughter, and well, the sparkle in the eyes that would give us a son a year later.

It’s funny how a little spark… can change everything.

On the outside, we looked like we were straight out of a rom-com movie. But our fairytale took a sharp left into a horror film with a plot twist in the form of PTSD, emotional landmines, and arguments loud enough to take the gold at a cheer competition – minus the spirit fingers and trophies!

Just like rubbing two sticks together, our friction created a spark that would ignite the emotional wildfire we lived in, inside our home.

Gaslighting. Loneliness. Exhaustion.

I was married to someone who was trained to save others… but was slowly burning me down from the inside out.

And I stayed. For a little while. Because I thought maybe it was me. I’d spent a lot of my life being told I was too much. Too loud. Too emotional. And I thought, if I just don’t ask for help, or if I was just more agreeable, or if I just didn’t yell so much… that he’d like me more and we’d get along much better. And eventually, I learned my voice was a liability. Something to smother. Something not worth being heard or with no value. Something used as kindling that fed fires too big for me to put out.

So I mastered the art of walking on eggshells without cutting my feet, and if I did, I knew how to get the blood out of the carpet without anyone ever knowing. I took a ride on the people pleasing bandwagon, and learned to quiet myself (though some might still argue it wasn’t quite enough). I perfected smiling on the outside, while simultaneously sweeping up the ashes left behind.

But then I blinked. Looking around through the emotional smoke damage, I saw my sons face and thought, “oh no ma’am. This is NOT it!”

There was no dramatic moment or suspenseful music in the background.

Just a spark—in the form of an un-phased 5yr old who was learning that this was the norm and building his early image of what love and marriage would look like.

I realized I couldn’t teach him to be bold, to be kind, or how to be whole… while I was modeling silence, fearful submission, and suffering.

So I left. And I went back to the bedroom that was mine, in my parents’ beautiful rebuilt home, at the age of 35. But this time… with a kid and three cats.

The cause?

A spark – from a little bit of courage and a whole lot of fear. We glamorize destruction and rebuilding like its an HGTV series. But its not. Its silent tears in the parking lot after dropping your son off at school. Its pretending to be ok at work so no one asks questions you can answer. Its sitting on your closet floor screaming at the heavens and asking “how much more can I take?”.

In the midst of the chaos, I had a conversation with my Mema. I was so broken and so confused and I made the comment “IDK mema, I just want to do something that MEANS something. I want to inspire people.” To which she bluntly replied “well then go BE inspiring.” Like it was a switch I just needed to flip on. But it became a flame that, to this day, I try to keep burning.

Its funny how a little spark… can change everything.

So I dusted off my pants, and walked out of the ashes my life had become, through the pain, the paperwork, the judgment, the uncertainty—and into freedom. The freedom to rebuild, from the ground up, the person I wanted to be. As a mom, an employee, a friend. Instead of the constant remodeling to “appear” new and shiny on the outside, I now had the opportunity to start from the ground, with a firmer foundation and newly installed support beams. And build the “dream house” life I wanted to raise my son in. No blueprint. No clear plan. Just a handful of ashes and that stubborn spark I inherited from the ones who taught me how to rise out of them.

I started rebuilding—not just my home, but my identity. I worked full-time plus a part time job. I cheered from the bleachers, managed appointments, bills, birthdays, and school meetings – on my own. And I started using the very skills that once made me “too much”, to create a foundation for change.

It may come as a shock to you, but I’ve always been a little extra. I own every brand of gel pen you can find in a craft store and leave a little glitter on everything I touch. I’ve planned events, created presentations, trained teams, and gritted my teeth, through every “Hey! Real quick question…” with a latte in one hand and purpose in the other. I landed myself amongst leadership that believed in and encouraged growth. I got to use my administrative magic to support a wizard who’s calendar was pure chaos and mental overwhelm was past the allotted capacity. While I also got to use my passions for people and speaking, to create, promote and implement new programs for the growth of the company.

For the first time… I saw myself as empowering, and not the problem.

There was no explosive launch moment or glitter bombs to celebrate. Just a thousand small decisions to rise, over and over again. Out of bed when I just didn’t want to move. Off the floor when I was done rage crying for the 100th time, as a super mom overpowering my inner villain, and as the administrative unicorn who can calm a wizard’s calendar with coffee and color codes that could make a rainbow blush.

The cause?

A spark – from building confidence and gaining trust from those who understood I had valuable skills to use and crucial knowledge to share.

Its funny how a little spark… can change everything.

Through it all, I found my place and started to remember who I was. The me who knew how to run an office, manage kid chaos, coach a team, speak with purpose, and connect deeply with those around me.

I wasn’t “just” supporting leaders—I was becoming one. Minus the title, and the 3am crisis calls. I had inbox taming power and a glitter pen. Same influence. None of the stress induced ulcers.

And now? I use that spark to help others find their own.

I speak to those sitting in the shadows who feel unseen, unworthy, and undervalued. I coach people out of their cubicles and into their calling. I believe in making bold moves today so that your legacy leaves a glitter trail long after you’re gone.

I see you.

The single parents. The silent sufferers. The behind-the-scenes magic-makers.

The ones who show up even when they feel invisible.

You are not too much. You are not too emotional. You are not too loud.

So let me ask you:

Where’s your spark?

Maybe it’s buried in the ashes of heartbreak.

Maybe it’s been silenced by shame.

Maybe, like me, you’ve just been settling. But relabeled it as “strong” and dressed it up as “resilience” because…Branding!

But hear me when I say this…Your spark isn’t what you lost in the fire. Its not the house, the marriage, or the plan you had. Its what you rebuild in the ashes. It’s just waiting for your permission to catch, and ignite the change you’ve been waiting to make. How will you respond when your life goes up in flames?

So…pop quiz! Don’t worry.. its super easy! What do fires, love, and entrepreneurship have in common?

They all start with a spark.

But what comes next?

That’s up to you.

You don’t need a stage or a spotlight to spark change. You just need courage, clarity, and a little caffeine fueled rebellion. And your spark might just set the world on fire.

So…here’s to the chaos coordinators. The captains of caffeine. The too-loud, too-emotional, and much too tired. Your ashes are not the end. They are just kindling

And it’s funny how a little spark… can change everything.