Bringing My Story Home

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been chasing the feeling of home. Aren’t we all? Not just a place to live, but a feeling that wraps around you like sunlight filtered through a window. It's that quiet, peaceful exhale when everything finally feels right, when your soul finds its purpose and settles in for the adventure. 

In my twenties, as a young, stay-at-home mom, I was obsessed with HGTV. I watched every home makeover show that came on — eyes wide, drooling, fascinated by how color, texture, and flow could completely transform a space. I didn’t just see before-and-afters; I saw the emotion behind them, and the way people stood taller, smiled brighter, and felt seen once their spaces reflected who they truly were.

But if I’m being honest, I think that obsession started much earlier.

We had a weekly ritual of watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition every week. It was my favorite night of the week. My favorite part was when they screamed, “move that bus!” and the family freaked out with joy, astonishment, and overwhelming gratitude. I would watch, mesmerized by the transformation, and wonder when Ty would show up at my house. 

I grew up without matching sheet sets, and for reasons I couldn’t articulate then, that always bothered me. It's a trivial, first-world problem, but the memory of realizing that my friends had matching sheets - but I didn't - really stuck with me. Even as a little girl, I wanted cohesion. I wanted to walk into a room and feel peace, warmth, and story. I wanted things to belong together. Not because it showed that we had money or perfect decorating skills, but because the pieces were chosen and put together with care.

It’s funny, now, to realize that this small frustration became a lifelong fascination.

I became a mom while my peers were still figuring out what their major should be and where they wanted to travel for spring break, I was figuring out how to keep tiny humans alive and feeling loved. I poured myself into motherhood and survival, becoming obsessed with natural living, organic eating, nontoxic everything, wooden toys, environmental impact, and so on, forever.

In the spaces between diapers, naps, and late-night self-doubt and loneliness, I tried on more careers and business ideas than I can count on both hands. I was going to be a doula. A microschool guide. A yoga teacher. A life coach. A wedding officiant. A creative writer. A spiritual mentor. Each path was meaningful, each a piece of me, but none of them quite clicked. They all pointed toward something I couldn’t name yet: a yearning to intentionally create beauty in a way that would help other humans and the world around us. 

After my high school sweetheart and I found one another again, got pregnant and bought our first home, I was thirty, and I didn’t realize just how profoundly home-ownership would change more than everything.

It wasn’t fancy. Built in 1845, renovated for a flip a few years before we came around, a leaky roof and no exterior insulation, creaky floors, and one issue after the next. I didn't care. We were finally home. For six months, I did nothing but decorate.

I spent weekends wandering thrift shops and yard sales, sourcing pieces that spoke to me: an old wooden rocking chair, a handsewn blanket, a painting that resembled what our street may have looked like when our house was built. Every item I brought home had history, character, and soul. I didn’t realize it then, but I was staging my life into alignment. For the first time, I was creating a space that reflected who I had become: a woman who valued intentionality, authenticity, and quiet beauty. Friends and family would visit and say, “It’s so cozy here,” “you always make things feel homey,” and “I don’t know what it is about your house, but it feels… good. Smells good, too.”

And I’d smile, because that was exactly what I wanted people to feel.

Alongside motherhood, I spent a decade caring for other people’s children. It is a profession that, at its heart, is all about creating safe spaces. I learned how to set the tone of a room with lighting, colors, and familiarity. I learned how much the environment influences emotion, and how much a child can flourish when they feel secure, seen, and at ease. It’s a truth that applies far beyond early childhood. Every person, no matter their age, needs an environment that supports who they’re becoming. I didn’t have the words for it back then, but my years in childcare were quiet training in environmental psychology, emotional safety, and the art of making space feel like a hug.

Still, something in me kept nagging: “This isn't it.” Even when I was coaching or guiding others, I felt an unrelenting creative itch. I loved transformation - emotional, spiritual, personal - but I wanted to see it. To touch it. To bring it into physical, material reality.

One night, it hit me with absolute clarity: I should be staging homes.

It felt like all the scattered puzzle pieces of my life suddenly clicked. Staging wasn’t just about making things pretty. It was about storytelling. It was about helping people imagine possibility. It was about creating environments where hearts could open, buyers could connect, and new chapters could begin. It was everything I’d ever loved.  Transformation, storytelling, emotional connection, and design - all in one place.

That realization became the seed of Soul + Story. A design philosophy built on the belief that every home has a soul, and every space tells a story. At Soul + Story, I’m not just rearranging furniture. I’m curating energy. I’m translating emotion into texture, light, and flow. I’m honoring the stories already held in a home while preparing it for the next one to unfold.

I work with secondhand and locally sourced pieces because sustainability and authenticity are part of my language. Every piece has a past, and I love weaving those histories together to create something timeless, intentional, and grounded. Whether it’s an occupied home needing gentle transformation, a staging consultation that sets the tone for sale, or full décor sourcing that tells a cohesive story, the process is always rooted in the same values: community, creativity, and consciousness.

I believe a well-styled home doesn’t just sell faster, it speaks louder. It invites buyers into a vision of life they want to live. And that’s what I’m here to create.

I may not have a traditional path or a certification on the wall — yet — but what I have is lived experience, an intuitive eye, and a decade of understanding how people feel in specially curated spaces.

I know how to read a room. I know how to create emotional flow. I know how to turn ordinary corners into places where people see themselves. I know how to help others find themselves in a story that’s just beginning.

For me, this work is more than design. It’s a calling. The perfect fusion of heart, artistry, and soul purpose.