Selling Water to the Ocean

When my husband says I could sell water to the ocean, he's not exaggerating.

I can picture it — me, standing on a sandy shore, holding up a bottle, somehow convincing the waves they need just one more sip. Not because I'm pushy or slick, but because selling has been stitched into my life for as long as I can remember.

I'm the middle child. Which means I was born into the art of negotiation.

Older brother gets to stay out until 10? Well, I can make a case for why I should too. Younger sibling gets extra attention for being "the baby"? Watch me pull focus in three… two… one.

It wasn't manipulation — it was curiosity. I learned to listen for what people wanted, to see the gap, and then fill it in a way that made saying "yes" feel easy. Back then, it was a sleepover or a trip to the mall. Today, it's health decisions that change people's lives.

Dentistry became my playground for that skill. Not "selling" in the traditional sense — but showing patients the clearest, most honest path forward. When you believe in what you're offering, you don't have to push. You just help people see what makes sense for them.

And now? I'm selling something entirely different.

Not a product. Not even a service.
Myself. My mission. My belief that I can take the messy, beautiful, exhausting reality of being a mom to an autistic child… my years in dentistry… my drive to create something bigger than myself… and turn it into real impact.

The truth is, I've always had this quiet knowing — that I was meant to do big, meaningful things. Not in a grandiose, "I'm special" way, but in a deep, persistent, can't-ignore-it kind of way. And over the years, through setbacks and tests and little victories, that belief has only grown stronger.

Life has been training me for this moment. Every late-night negotiation with my parents. Every hard patient conversation. Every unexpected twist.

So here I am — on the edge of the next big challenge. Ready to do the thing I've been quietly preparing for my whole life.

And yes… if the ocean needs water, I'm still your girl.