"‘I’m not sure this is going to work out.’ That’s what I thought about my first job and, if I’m being honest, my first real relationship. Spoiler alert: I was wrong about both. But hey, isn’t that the beauty of beginnings? They’re messy, unpredictable, and sometimes involve a little too much instant ramen. My journey—from a small-town dreamer who barely scraped by in her early 20s to sitting on Ciusi’s editorial board—has felt a lot like navigating the chaos of a relationship: awkward starts, some questionable decisions, and a growing sense of clarity along the way.

Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at how an ordinary woman with ordinary beginnings learned to embrace the extraordinary. And no, it doesn’t involve fairy tale magic or an inspiring montage set to Beyoncé’s ‘Run the World’… though that would’ve been nice."

Meeting My ‘Humbling Beginnings’ Phase
Real talk: If early adulthood was a vibe, mine was a blend of romantic comedies and survival documentaries. Picture this: a secondhand couch I got for $20 (it smelled like wet dog, by the way), a suitcase doubling as a coffee table, and dreams bigger than my paycheck. The job wasn’t glamorous—admin assistant at an office where the highlight of my day was overhearing HR gossip near the coffee maker—but it was a start.

I came from a close-knit, culturally rich family in the Navajo Nation, where storytelling was woven into me like a favorite song. We didn’t have much in terms of material wealth, but we had these stories—about resilience, the land, the relationships we nurture. When I wasn’t getting lost in books or my grandmother’s tales about teenage romances interrupted by thunderstorms, I was daydreaming about traveling far, finding connections, and living a big story of my own.

And yet, there I was in that squishy office chair, unremarkable as a dating app bio that simply says, ‘I like pizza and Netflix.’ Pro tip: If life were a Tinder profile, this phase would’ve been the one where you swipe left too quickly, missing the hidden potential.

Small Risks = Big Growth (Kind of Like the First ILY)
Here’s the thing about extraordinary lives: they don’t come with a neon sign pointing you toward greatness. They’re built on tiny, seemingly insignificant choices. Like my first international backpacking trip. Barely scraping together my savings for a plane ticket to Chile, I told my boss a white lie about needing personal time off (don’t judge; the office was toxic and PTO was a myth). One 13-hour flight, three language-barrier-induced mishaps, and an extremely awkward salsa lesson later, I realized how much I didn’t know about the world—or myself.

That trip was basically the relationship equivalent of telling someone you love them waaaay before you’re sure they feel the same. A total leap of faith. But sitting under the Chilean sky, sipping pisco sour, I started to connect the dots. All the things I thought were holding me back—finances, insecurity, not speaking the right language—were temporary hurdles. Relationships, even the one with yourself, thrive on the moments you dare to confront discomfort.

The Glow-Up is Not Immediate—And That’s Okay
I’d like to tell you there was a clean, overnight transformation—like one of those ‘10-day makeovers’ where suddenly my career, relationships, and life clicked into place. In reality, growth was more awkward-funny than movie-magic. Think of it as the romantic montage where someone accidentally spills spaghetti on themselves. Messy but progress nonetheless.

For example, did you know most public museum events are actually free? I didn’t either, until I decided to dip into my love of culture one event at a time. While working that less-than-glamorous admin job, I volunteered to help curate small art exhibitions at local non-profits. One gig turned into professional networking, which led to a position doing curation full-time.

The same principles applied to my friendships and relationships, too. Every significant connection in life—in work, love, or friendship—starts small. You make mistakes. You get ghosted (emotionally or literally). You overthink. But you also learn what lights you up, and eventually, you learn what’s worth pursuing. By saying ‘yes’ to small chances, I found my voice, my purpose, and eventually, my current role shaping Ciusi’s vision.

How to Spot Your Extraordinary Moments
Here’s some tea I wish someone had spilled sooner: Life doesn’t always announce its big opportunities—the ones that make your journey stand out from the ordinary—like a shiny object thrown in your path. Sometimes, extraordinary moments look a lot like the mundane ones. They require a little polish, some courage, or seeing failure as part of the path. And sometimes, they’re the awkward date that turns into an amazing love story.

So, how can you start spotting yours?
Here are a few lessons I’ve picked up:

  • Lean into discomfort. Whether it’s asking for that promotion or booking the solo trip you’ve been putting off, the best things are usually buried just beyond your comfort zone. Act like that semi-awkward person you met at a party who surprisingly becomes a best friend—give them a chance.

  • Say yes…and no. Early on, I said ‘yes’ to almost every opportunity, but eventually, I learned the power of choosing the right ones. This is also great advice for filtering weird crushes or relationships. Not every cute coworker deserves a chapter in your story.

  • Own your story. Your beginnings don’t define you; they enrich your perspective. My family’s Navajo traditions didn’t just ground me—they became a way to connect universally. Don’t shy away from your quirks or narrative. Trust me, they’re your most fascinating traits.

Plot Twist: The Journey Doesn’t End Here
The most surprising part of transitioning from extra basic beginnings to a role with Ciusi is realizing the journey is never really about chasing the extraordinary. It’s about noticing where it already exists: the first ‘aha’ moment of self-growth, a community that feels like home, or that mix of butterflies and calm when you meet someone who just gets it. And here’s the kicker—you’re not supposed to have everything figured out yet (no matter what that ‘perfect’ couple posting their Paris vacation makes you believe).

It’s okay to start small. It’s okay to feel unsure. Whether you’re editing your first dating bio, building confidence post-heartbreak, or figuring out what makes you come alive in your work: celebrate the mess. The path from ordinary to extraordinary is paved in unglamorous, wonderful first steps.