(The startup was my mirror. The real story was becoming myself.)

I didn’t start my company with a grand vision or perfect plan.

I started it because I refused to be broken by someone else’s smallness.

I don’t come from a family where entrepreneurship is normal.
In fact, if you fail in business even once, that’s the end of the story.

But I had one exception—my uncle.
A successful businessman in India. Wise, spiritual, grounded.

After I got my green card, I stayed with him for four months. That short stay shifted the course of my life.

We had long, soulful conversations about life, leadership, spirituality, the human body, risk, and self-awareness. He introduced me to spirituality, mindset shift, and risk-taking with courage in life. I started swimming, something that was on my wishlist for so long. He encouraged my curiosity, and in my mind, I self-assigned him as my role model.

I thought I was searching for a life partner like him, someone with a similar depth and wisdom.
But that wasn’t what life had planned for me.

Instead, I realized: maybe I wasn’t meant to find someone like him. Maybe I was meant to become someone like him.

And that’s when the real journey began.

My early business was modest—consulting, a few tech projects, nothing fancy.

But it represented something huge:
I was finally building something that wasn’t tied to anyone else’s vision of success.

Not a husband.
Not a company.
Not society.

It wasn’t glamorous at first.

I didn’t even feel like a founder. I felt like an impostor in rooms filled with confident executives—older, mostly male, mostly white. The kind who use big words and speak in absolutes.

I was soft-spoken, thoughtful, and spiritual.
But I had something else: clarity. Presence. A different kind of power.

And slowly, people began to notice.
Clients didn’t just want the tech solution.
They wanted to talk.
To reflect.
To understand the why beneath the what.

And I realized, I wasn’t just solving process issues. I was changing how leaders thought.
About scale.
About their people.
About themselves.

One day, I walked into a midsize tech company to automate some reports.
By the end of that meeting, the COO had offered me a completely different scope.

“Would you design a workflow system for the whole company?”

I said yes—without blinking.
That, yes, changed everything.
Within four months, we delivered an entire infrastructure shift.
It wasn’t just a professional milestone.
It was personal.

I stopped questioning whether I belonged in the room.
Because I wasn’t just in the room—I was rebuilding it.

Though I was profitable and making more money, it was still all me—running around, wearing multiple hats, while managing the household like a superwoman.

Not every business could afford a bespoke system, and I hated seeing small businesses left out.

So I pivoted—again.
From services to product.
From custom to scalable.

I built a SaaS tool designed specifically for small business workflows—affordable, intuitive, and human-centered.

That product made it to a regional innovation pitch competition in Northern Virginia, we made it to the final three.

It was a win.
But even more than that, it was a moment of truth:

I wasn’t chasing validation anymore.
I was building value.

And in the middle of all this success, I walked away.

It wasn’t that the business had completed its purpose; it was that it had ignited mine.

It burned itself into ashes just as I was leaving a toxic relationship, marking not an end, but a beginning.

It gave me a spark to rise—raw, real, and ready.
Not just to lead clients, but to lead myself.
Not just to scale systems, but to scale my soul.

From that fire, a different kind of leader emerged, one who no longer needed to prove her power but embody it.

And from that place, I began again.

And now it was time to rise again—this time not with systems, but with stories.
Not just with code, but with coaching.
Not to build workflows, but to build leaders.

Leaders who, like me, were never handed a blueprint.
Leaders who didn’t want to play the part, but to live their truth.
Leaders who are ready to turn their pain into power and rise.

Because sometimes, the company you build isn’t your legacy.
It’s your mirror.

And when it’s done showing you who you are, it’s time to lead something even deeper:

Yourself.