There comes a moment when the life you’ve built no longer fits. For me, that moment arrived quietly but forcefully—an accumulation of thoughts, feelings, and realizations that I could no longer ignore.
It started with a conversation. A real one. The kind that shifts the ground beneath you. My husband and I sat down, and with honesty and love, we decided to separate. That decision sent ripples through everything—my home, my identity, my friendships, my career.
Suddenly, I was standing at a crossroads with no map.
So, I did the most radical thing I could think of: I let go.
I sold nearly everything I owned. I packed a single suitcase. I moved to Mexico. And for the first time in my life, I gave myself space—to not have a plan, to not chase the next thing, to just be.
The Break:
Who Was I Without All of It?
Arriving in Mexico, I expected a sense of freedom, but what hit me first was the quiet. No meetings, no deadlines, no pressure. Just me, unfamiliar streets, and time—something I had never allowed myself to have before.
At first, it felt unsettling. Who was I without the career, without the work that had defined me for so long?
And the questions kept coming:
Who was I when I wasn’t a wife—when I wasn’t being the “good wife” I thought I was supposed to be?
Who was I outside of our couple’s circle of friends (which, in reality, were always more my husband’s friends than mine)?
And the biggest question of all—the one that stopped me in my tracks:
Who was I when I wasn’t playing a supporting role in someone else’s story?
I had spent so much of my life making sure things ran smoothly for others, making sure I fit into a role that made sense for the people around me. But now, there was no one to orbit around.
So much of my identity had been tied to these roles. And now? They were gone.
At first, I felt lost. Then, I let myself be curious.
I wandered markets. I listened to the ocean. I let myself think.
I also let myself do nothing. And in that nothingness, ideas started to spark.
Who was I when I wasn’t playing a supporting role in someone else’s story?
The Realization: I Didn’t Just Want a New Career—I Wanted My People
As I let myself explore without expectation, something started to take shape—not in a sudden lightbulb moment, but as a slow, quiet realization.
I wasn’t looking to just build something new—I was looking for a group of people who saw the world the way I did. People who cared about making things make sense, not just making them look good. People who understood that great work isn’t just about execution—it’s about connection, clarity, and momentum.
I thought back to the teams I had loved working with in the past. The best work happened when the right minds came together—when ideas weren’t just discussed but brought to life with intention. I wanted to create a space where that kind of magic could happen again.
It wasn’t about starting a company just to start a company. It was about finding the right people, the right conversations, and the right energy to bring meaningful ideas to life.
What Comes Next?
I don’t have a neat little bow to tie around this journey. And that’s the point.
I’m not stepping back into my career the way I left it. Instead, I’m stepping forward with intention—building something with the people who get it, who want to work with purpose, and who are willing to take creative risks that actually move things.
Na-Mii isn’t just a business. It’s a belief: that work should be human, that creativity should be respected, and that big ideas deserve the right team to bring them to life.
So here I am—no longer who I was, not yet fully who I’m becoming, but standing in the in-between, ready to build again.
This time, with my people.
And that’s something worth showing up for.
Final Note
For anyone standing at their own crossroads, wondering if they should let go, step back, or take a break—I promise, there is more for you on the other side.
You won’t know what it is yet. You won’t have all the answers. But if you give yourself space to listen, to explore, and to trust that you are more than your job title or relationship status—you’ll find your way.
I did. And I can’t wait to see where this next chapter takes me.
