Run the Jewels and Wu-Tang Clan. Easily one of my top five shows of all time. The energy, the crowd, the bass—I love big bass. It was electric. I high-fived the stranger next to me after the show. That kind of night.
The next morning, in the glow of all that legacy energy, I opened my laptop and stared at the backend of a half-finished website. I was building a website from scratch (again), and I was stuck.
I had built my entire site on WordPress… and then realized I didn’t like it.
It looked fine. But it didn’t feel like me.
So I walked away.
Behind the scenes, I started rebuilding on a new platform—clean slate, ground up. No fancy developer. No team of designers. Just me, staring down a blinking cursor and a long to-do list.
Because sometimes, building a website from scratch isn’t about the tech.
It’s about finding your voice again.
Let’s be real: I’m great at pouring energy into other people’s brands. But when it comes to my own?
I stall.
I scroll.
I doubt.
I wait for the “right” time to start sharing again.
And I know better. Especially as someone who helps others show up more clearly and consistently online.
I’ve worked with wellness brands, event organizers, physical therapists, indie labels—you name it. The strategy is second nature. But when it came to my own content? Crickets.
Because the pressure feels different when it’s personal.
Instead of hiding out until everything was “perfect,” I did what I tell clients to do all the time:
I started showing up anyway.
Even while rebuilding.
Even while still questioning the design.
Even while making a million small decisions behind the scenes.
Because if you wait until it’s done to start telling your story… you’ll miss the chance to build connection along the way.
Here’s how I reframed it:
That show—Wu-Tang and RTJ—reminded me what it’s like to feel part of something.
To be swept up in a moment bigger than yourself.
And it got me thinking about Ozzy.
The “No More Tours” shirts I’ve collected. Black Sabbath’s farewell in Birmingham. The Rock Hall Inductions in Cleveland, where I was lucky to be in the room during soundcheck—Maynard, Jelly Roll, Billy Idol, Sharon Osbourne standing feet away.
Moments like that stick with you.
They remind you of what lasts.
Of what matters.
Of the kind of presence that gets built over time—not overnight.
But so is building anything real. It takes consistency. Curiosity. Courage. And a willingness to scrap what isn’t working and start fresh—even if no one else sees the mess but you.
So this is me, showing the mess. Sharing the stuckness. Telling you: you’re not alone in this.
If you’re building something, too—or even just thinking about building a website from scratch—I’ve got more coming. The honest stuff. The helpful stuff. The “keep going, even when it’s hard” stuff. You can explore my First Five framework for a simple place to start, or check out the tools I’ve used, from WordPress to Webflow. The tech mattes, but the real win is staying in motion and building connection as you go.
Want in? Sign up for my email list below or reach out directly. Let’s build something worth remembering.
