There are moments in life when you look around and quietly think, How did I get here?
Not from arrogance.
Not from pride.
But from awe.
Last November, I had the opportunity to travel from Mississippi to New Hampshire to speak at Dartmouth, an Ivy League institution, about STEM and how it led me into entrepreneurship. Sitting in that chair, walking across that campus, interacting with students, I felt one overwhelming thought rise to the surface:
Look at what God did!
Because this journey did not begin on a stage. It began in my kitchen.
When a Dream Was Just a Thought
Before there were invitations, awards, or speaking engagements, there was a simple desire to create quality products that truly helped people like you. I remember mixing formulas in my kitchen, spilling products on the floor, slowly outgrowing my space. I remember building a shed in my backyard because I needed more room. I remember packing orders in my garage and wondering how far this dream could realistically go.
At that time, I was focused on doing the work. I wasn’t thinking about Ivy League campuses. I wasn’t imagining that something that started in Mississippi would take me across the country to use my voice in that way.
That’s the thing about purpose: it rarely shows you the full picture. It asks for obedience in small spaces before revealing larger ones.
The Quiet Battle of Worth
Even so, when the invitation to Dartmouth came, the old voice tried to reintroduce itself.
“Why you?”
“What makes you qualified?”
“Are you sure you belong in that room?”
For years, I wrestled with imposter syndrome, the persistent belief that you aren’t worthy even though your actions showed otherwise and that at any moment you might be exposed as undeserving. It’s a psychological pattern many high achievers experience, especially when stepping into new environments that feel unfamiliar or prestigious.
Imposter syndrome doesn’t disappear simply because opportunities increase. In fact, it often intensifies in bigger rooms. Growth stretches your identity, and the brain naturally resists what feels unfamiliar.
But here’s what I’ve learned: the presence of doubt does not disqualify you. It simply means you’re expanding.
I had to consciously remind myself that if I received the invitation, I was meant to be there. Not because I was perfect. Not because I had everything figured out. But because I had done the work, built the foundation, and remained faithful to the calling placed on my life.

From Mississippi to New Hampshire
There was something symbolic about traveling from Mississippi to New Hampshire. Different regions. Different cultures. Different expectations. Yet when I walked around campus and interviewed students, asking them what made them feel unworthy, I was struck by something deeply human.
Their answers sounded familiar.
Despite academic excellence and prestigious surroundings, many of them carried the same insecurities people carry everywhere, doubt, comparison, fear of not measuring up.
It was a reminder that no environment eliminates internal battles. Prestige doesn’t cancel insecurity. Achievement doesn’t erase humanity.
We all wrestle with worth at some point.
And sometimes the very rooms we’re intimidated by are filled with people fighting the same internal narratives we are.
Growth Requires Identity Expansion
Psychologically, stepping into new spaces requires what’s called identity expansion. You cannot hold onto an outdated version of yourself while expecting to function confidently in a larger arena.
The version of me who once questioned her worth had to evolve. Not by pretending insecurity never existed, but by refusing to let it dictate my decisions.
When I first started this business, I would have disqualified myself from a room like Dartmouth before anyone else had the chance to. I would have assumed I wasn’t impressive enough or credentialed enough.
But growth demanded that I challenge those assumptions.
Your self-concept must expand to match your calling.
If you continue to see yourself through the lens of past limitations, you’ll hesitate in present opportunities.
Your Path Is Not Linear
When I spoke to the students about STEM, I wanted them to understand that it is not a narrow road. It is a foundation. It is a launchpad.
Your degree, your starting point, your first job, none of those have to define the full trajectory of your life. They are tools, not ceilings.
The same is true outside of academia. Your background does not limit your future. Your zip code does not define your destiny. Your early doubts do not predict your final destination.
The kitchen led to the shed.
The shed led to the warehouse.
The warehouse led to rooms I once couldn’t imagine.
But none of it happened overnight.
The Trap of Self-Disqualification
One of the most common psychological traps is self-disqualification. We often eliminate ourselves before life does.
We assume we aren’t ready. We assume we aren’t enough. We assume other people are more deserving.
But readiness is rarely a feeling. It’s a decision.
If you wait to feel completely confident before stepping into new rooms, you may wait forever. Confidence often grows after you accept the opportunity, not before.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk in while your hands are still slightly shaking.
What This Means for You
If you are in a season where opportunities feel intimidating or unfamiliar, I want you to consider a few things:
• Growth will stretch your identity before it strengthens your confidence.
• Feeling unqualified does not mean you are unqualified.
• Your beginnings do not disqualify you from significant spaces.
• The same God who gave you the vision will equip you for the room.
• You are allowed to evolve beyond the version of yourself that once felt small.
The invitation is evidence.
You don’t have to shrink in spaces you prayed for.
Before the Stage, There Were Roots
Looking back, the most important seasons weren’t glamorous. They were quiet. They were messy. They required discipline, faith, and consistency without applause.
Those were root-building seasons.
And roots are what keep you steady when you finally stand in rooms that once intimidated you.
Dartmouth was a beautiful moment. But it wasn’t the beginning. It was a continuation of years of unseen growth.
Reflection
If you’re wrestling with imposter syndrome or questioning whether you belong in certain spaces, I hope you remember this:
Your story does not end where it started.
You are allowed to grow beyond early insecurities.
You are allowed to expand beyond old limitations.
You are allowed to walk into rooms that once felt impossible.
And when you do, I hope you pause long enough to recognize the journey, not with pride, but with gratitude.
Because sometimes the most powerful testimony isn’t how impressive the room is.
It’s how far you’ve come to sit in it.
Keep the Faith! 💚👑
🎥 Go Behind the Scenes at Dartmouth
If this story resonated with you, I’m sharing more of the experience in a behind-the-scenes vlog from Dartmouth’s Beyond the Lab panel.
In this video, I take you from stepping onto campus to speaking with students about STEM, entrepreneurship, and mental wellness. I also share 10 practical lessons I’ve learned about turning a STEM foundation into a purpose-driven business.
If you’ve ever wondered:
• How can a STEM degree prepare me for entrepreneurship?
• How do I use what I learned in the lab or classroom in the real world?
• What does mental wellness look like for high-achieving students?
This conversation goes deeper.
You’ll hear reflections on identity, imposter syndrome, and what it really takes to build something meaningful without losing yourself in the process.
Watch the video experience below.