My professional story begins in 2011. But the version of me that exists now didn’t start there…
Back then, I was driven, optimistic, and determined to break into Public Relations during one of the toughest job markets in recent history. The recession had made opportunities scarce, and like a lot of new grads, I took what I could get. Spending time working through a temp agency doing QA at the Ford plant. It wasn’t glamorous, but it taught me early on that progress isn’t always linear.
What did change everything was landing an internship with an all-women-run PR agency in Phoenix. That experience cracked something open for me. These women were sharp, strategic, and deeply collaborative. They weren’t just executing campaigns, they were shaping narratives. It was the first time I saw what marketing could really be.
That internship turned into an opportunity with an agency partner specializing in paid media, SEO, and web development—and suddenly, I was in it.
At the same time, the industry itself was shifting.
2011 was the year Facebook went public, and overnight it felt like everyone was talking about data, targeting, and mobile optimization. There was a kind of urgency in the air. Brands were scrambling to keep up, to stay visible, to not get left behind.
And with that urgency came shortcuts.
Black hat tactics were everywhere. Keyword stuffing, backlink schemes, hidden text. Companies were chasing performance at any cost. And as a young marketer, I was right in the middle of it. Learning and moving fast while surrounded by people who were just as hungry as I was to figure it all out.
Agency life shaped me in a big way. It taught me how to think critically, how to solve complex problems, and how to adapt quickly. It was energizing and intense and, at times, chaotic.
But even then, something felt off.
We were optimizing for clicks, rankings, and conversions. We were getting results. But we were not always building real connection. It was my first glimpse of a bigger idea that I did not yet have the words for: marketing should help customers feel known.
That clarity didn’t come until I moved client-side.
For the first time, I wasn’t just executing strategies. I was living with them. I saw the internal pressures, the resource constraints, and the constant balancing act in-house teams face every day. With that came a new level of empathy and a deeper sense of ownership over the work.
It was also where I got to be part of some of the most creative, meaningful projects of my career.
We co-created a luxury community magazine for high-net-worth clients that told the stories shaping the Arizona economy. We partnered with the Phoenix Suns. We had a seat at the table for the Arizona Super Bowl Host Committee and even got to see our own local spot air during the game. We built an in-house video production studio from the ground up.
It was big, exciting, impactful work.
And yet, that quiet question lingered. Is this it?
The real turning point didn’t come from a campaign. It came from life.
After moving to Kansas City and starting a family, everything shifted. The pace, the priorities, the expectations. Especially the unspoken ones. I felt like I was constantly trying to live up to this idea of “having it all” without ever stopping to ask what I actually wanted that to look like.
I was burnt out. Exhausted. Pulled in too many directions.
And for the first time in my career, I didn’t just want to do great work. I wanted control over my life.
Starting Mobius Marketing in 2019 wasn’t just a career move.It was a decision to do things differently.
I didn’t want to follow someone else’s definition of success. I wanted to build something on my own terms. Something that allowed me to do meaningful, high-impact work and be present for my family. Something that gave me the freedom to choose what I said yes to.
That shift from reacting to leading my own path changed everything. Over time, my focus sharpened.
I found myself drawn less to one-off campaigns and more to the systems behind them. The connection points. The way a brand shows up not just once, but consistently, across every interaction.
Marketing automation became more than a tool. It became a way to create continuity. To turn disconnected moments into a clear, cohesive experience. To deliver on personalization in a way that actually feels human.
Today, I work alongside marketing teams to help them make sense of their martech stack and build lifecycle strategies that are timely, relevant, and grounded in real customer behavior.
My work focuses on the channels that drive that experience forward, especially email marketing and paid media, supported by the automation systems that connect everything together. Every touchpoint should work as part of a whole, not in isolation.
At the core of it all is that one simple idea: to help customers feel known.
Because the goal isn’t just to reach people, it’s to understand them, respond to them, and build relationships that last.
And in 2026, that’s harder than ever.
The collapse of third-party cookies, increasing privacy regulations, and fragmented systems have made it difficult for brands to see the full picture of their customers. Data is everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
But that’s exactly why this work matters.
Because when everything feels disconnected, the brands that win will be the ones who figure out how to connect the dots. Not just in their data, but in their relationships.
And that’s the work I’ve chosen to build my career around.
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