For a long time, I felt like a piece of driftwood. Life as an Army-brat-turned-Navy-spouse had taken me all over the country and around the world. Resume gaps and years of unemployment left me struggling to find meaningful, rewarding work. I can’t count the times I found myself asking, “how the #$@& did I end up here?!”
After becoming a mom, I knew the regular 9 to 5 (or, let’s face it – 8 to 6 plus hours on either end for preparations and commuting) wasn’t working for me. I struggled to maintain my enthusiasm at work and felt zapped of the emotional and mental energy I needed at home. It felt like I was failing on both fronts.
One day, I flipped the proverbial Monopoly board. I quit a job I no longer loved and decided to start reframing the internal script I’d played in my mind on repeat.
Life as an Army-brat-turned-Navy-spouse had taken me all over the country and around the world. 40 states, 4 cross-country road trips, 20 countries, and counting. I had lived overseas multiple times, learning the languages and cultures of other places. I had walked alone in the light of the Acropolis in Greece, swam in the shadows of giant manta rays in Tahiti, and outran two Barbary macaques out to steal my passport in Gibraltar*. Not bad for a girl from a small town in West Virginia.
Resume gaps and years of unemployment made me scrappy, tenacious, and driven to outperform expectations when given a chance to work. I was a chameleon, able to adapt to comically different settings. I had wrangled groups of tutu-wearing toddlers, lead presentations in corporate boardrooms, and moved pallets alongside forklifts in a dusty warehouse. My career had given me grit and resilience (and some remarkably ridiculous stories).
The name Driftwood Creative is a nod to the nomadic life I have lived for the past 20+ years as an Army-brat- turned-Navy-spouse. Life has been a constant cycle of unknown destinations. I’ve often felt like a piece of driftwood bobbing along the water’s top.
Driftwood Creative is my attempt to reverse my internal script of powerless floating. The sporadic life I lead is not a burden or defect. It is the source of my greatest strengths.
A piece of driftwood may be carried along by the waves, unable to choose its destination. But that same driftwood can wash ashore in some amazing places.
Think we’d get along? I’d love to swap stories and learn about your business, whether it’s already running or still a dream in your head. You can reach me any time. Until then, keep bobbing along and remember that no matter where you land, you can make it amazing.
*I swear, this is true
