About

Looking back, there were a few moments that quietly redirected the path I was on. None of them felt monumental at the time, but together they shaped how I see work, purpose, and impact — and ultimately led to Paul & Me.

I earned my degree in business, but early on I realized something important: it taught me how to be employed, not how to build something of my own. That realization didn’t start in a classroom. It started much earlier. I still remember driving through Solvang with my family after a grocery run, thinking, you either work for someone or you own a business. I must have been about twelve, but the thought stayed with me.

As I grew older, the question everyone asked became, “What are you going to do?”
My honest answer was always, “I don’t know — I just like helping people.” I didn’t know if that meant children, adults, or the elderly. For a while, I thought psychology might be the path, until I learned what it truly required. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t right.

Life continued to unfold in ways I didn’t plan. At nineteen, an accident followed by surgery slowed everything down and gave me space to think differently about the future. What stayed with me during that time was a simple idea: I wanted more than just earning enough — I wanted to build something where money could support impact, not limit it.

Long before any formal business education, I was already experimenting.
I sold cookies. I ran lemonade stands. I supplied friends and family with freshly squeezed orange juice on weekends. Later came birthday party décor, flower arrangements, and athletic wear. Each venture taught me lessons school never did — grit, creativity, resilience, and how to learn from what doesn’t work.

Then in 2020, my little brother Paul was born, and I became a stay-at-home sister for almost a year. During that time, Paul was diagnosed with autism. It didn’t feel like a single defining moment — it felt like a gradual shift in how I understood children and the world around them.

I began to see that children don’t need to be fixed or molded to fit a standard. Every child has their own way of thinking, learning, and expressing themselves. Each one carries something unique — and when that individuality is supported, it becomes a strength.

That understanding became the foundation for Paul & Me.

We opened on June 12, 2021, full of optimism. Like many first attempts, it didn’t unfold the way I imagined. I quickly learned that belief alone isn’t enough — skills, visibility, and systems matter just as much. On November 1, 2022, I announced we were closing. Just twelve days later, my mom welcomed another little one — Sophie — a quiet reminder that this story wasn’t finished.

Since then, I’ve committed myself to learning what I was missing.

I worked at Bob’s Well Bread for a year and a half, where I learned lessons I still carry with me. The biggest one: you have to put yourself out there. Your product does the work once the right eyes see it. Partnerships, visibility, and consistency — even when results aren’t immediate — create momentum over time.

Along the way, I’ve been shaped by conversations and mentorship from local business owners and community leaders who generously shared their perspective. Each one influenced how I think about business today.

At its core, my path has always been about helping. Not just children — but families, nonprofits, and communities. I’m starting with the place that raised me because I believe meaningful change begins locally. My long-term mission is to help nonprofits in Santa Barbara County become more self-sustainable, so they can spend less time fundraising and more time serving the people who need them.

I’ve worked in nonprofits. I know how much energy goes into simply staying afloat. I believe that with the right systems — systems that create income without draining time and resources — organizations can grow and create lasting impact.

Paul & Me is part of that vision.

Yes, we create thoughtfully designed children’s pieces.
But more importantly, we’re here to support families, celebrate individuality, and build systems that help people — not just for a moment, but for the long term.