Chasing the Dream

I was late to work this morning, don’t tell my boss. I was checking out a kitchen space to rent for my new business. The application process alone is intimidating, but I’m super excited to have found the space in my life for it finally. I’m not sure where this one is going to lead so follow along for the ramble and ill throw in something related to food along the way.

Some people wake up one day and say, “I’m starting a business.” I woke up and said, “Let me go look at this kitchen before someone else snatches it.” That’s how real urgent I’m feeling. I’ve been dreaming about building something of my own for years, but life has a funny way of making you feel like you’re not ready yet. Too busy. Too tired. Too unsure. Too… everything.

But today, standing in that empty kitchen, I realized something: I’m never going to feel 100% ready. And that’s okay. Sometimes you just walk into the room anyway and trust that you’ll figure it out as you go.

The stainless-steel counters were shining like they were cheering me on. The fridge was humming like it already knew it would be filled with ingredients for someone’s special day. And me? I was standing there imagining the smell of garlic sizzling in a pan, the sound of laughter at an event I catered, the feeling of handing someone a plate that tastes like comfort and joy.

That’s when it hit me — this isn’t just a kitchen. It’s the first real step toward the life I’ve been building in my head for years.

Is it scary? Absolutely. Do I know exactly what I’m doing? Not even close. But I know how to cook, I know how to create experiences, and I know how to show up for myself. And honestly, that’s enough to get started.

So if you’re reading this, welcome to the beginning of something new. Something messy. Something delicious. I’m figuring things out one permit, one recipe, and one late-to-work morning at a time.

And since I promised something food-related:

Today’s lesson — sometimes the recipe doesn’t need to be perfect. You just need to turn on the stove.

This is only the beginning of my story, and I’m grateful you’re here to witness it.