I spent the first decades of my professional life inside powerful institutions — observing how influence actually moves, how decisions get made, and how the most capable people in the room are not always the ones whose names get remembered.

I raised funds at the level of Goldman Sachs. I navigated the United Nations. I worked inside arts institutions, cultural organizations, and communications ecosystems where power was real, stakes were high, and the cost of misreading the room was significant.

I was often underestimated. I used that.

What I was doing in those rooms — quietly, precisely, at considerable cost — was moving weight. Shifting the conditions under which decisions got made. Creating small openings through which different voices, different frameworks, different futures could enter.

I didn't have a name for it then. Now I do.

This is the work I bring to the women I advise.

I learned to read power structures quickly, to move through influential environments without becoming captured by them, to ask the questions that needed asking without positioning myself as a threat. I shaped outcomes that were attributed to others. I influenced conversations that changed directions rooms were heading.

Over time I understood that what I was doing — this particular combination of strategic clarity, cultural intelligence, and embodied awareness — was rare. And that the leaders I most admired were doing it largely alone, without a thinking partner equal to the weight of what they were carrying.

That is why I built Salt & Honey.