This post is the first in a short series to celebrate ROAM's upcoming 12th anniversary later this month
There's a moment in every entrepreneur's journey when life presents you with an unexpected fork in the road, and you have to decide whether to take the safe path or venture into uncharted territory. For me, that moment came in 2013 when my then-boyfriend, now-husband received a dream job offer that would take us from San Francisco to Santa Monica.
I had always said I would never follow a boy anywhere. But here I was, having just completed some incredible projects at Google—helping elevate Google Apps for Business, positioning Google Docs to compete with Microsoft Office, supporting Enterprise across the APAC market, and being part of the founding consumer PR team. Despite these amazing adventures, I found myself at a crossroads, feeling like I needed something different professionally but not quite sure what that looked like.
The move to LA forced the decision I might have postponed indefinitely if I'd stayed comfortable in San Francisco.
So there I was—following a boy to Los Angeles, something I'd sworn I'd never do. But sometimes life has a sense of humor about our absolutes.
I spent the first few weeks in Santa Monica interviewing with agencies and tech companies, going through the motions of what seemed like the logical next step. But nothing felt right. The roles were fine, the companies were respectable, but none of them sparked the excitement I was hoping to feel about this new chapter.
That's when my boyfriend made a suggestion that would change everything: "Why don't you bet on yourself? You have agency experience, in-house experience, and you know you're good at this. Take six months and see what you can do on your own. If it doesn't work out, you can always find another job."
It was simultaneously the most terrifying and most liberating conversation I'd ever had. The safety net was there—I could always go back to traditional employment—but for the first time, I had permission to try something completely different.
Then serendipity stepped in. Two of my mentors and former colleagues had been doing consulting work together, and one was about to go on maternity leave. They needed someone to cover her client work for a few months. Would I be interested?
Suddenly, I wasn't just betting on myself in the abstract—I had actual client work to start with, mentors to guide me, and a real opportunity to test whether this entrepreneurial thing might actually work.
Our first place in SoCal was a townhouse on the beach, where my makeshift “office” was the multipurpose top floor. That's where ROAM was born—initially just covering client work for my mentors while one navigated maternity leave, with our two Boston Terriers, Millie and Astro, as my only office companions.
What started as temporary project coverage quickly evolved into something more. The clients liked working with me, I discovered I loved the direct relationship and responsibility, and within a few months, I was building my own client base in addition to just covering someone else's.
I chose the name ROAM for two specific reasons: 1) because it represented both the journey that had brought me to this point and the freedom I was discovering—the ability to work with diverse clients, explore different industries, and build something that could adapt and grow organically, and 2) it was a subtle nod to my pups.
Those first few months were equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. The safety net of covering existing client work helped me get started, but I quickly realized that building a sustainable consultancy meant expanding my own relationships and developing my reputation in a new market.
If I could go back and give my 2013 self some advice, here's what I'd say:
Sometimes the best opportunities come disguised as personal compromises. I was worried about "following a boy" to LA, but that move created the space and motivation I needed to start my own business.
Mentorship can come in unexpected forms. Having experienced consultants willing to share their client work and guide me through the early days was invaluable. I couldn't have made the transition as successfully without their support.
Your network is more portable than you think. I was terrified about leaving San Francisco's tech ecosystem, but the relationships I'd built at Google and previous roles became the foundation of ROAM's growth, even from 350 miles away.
Saying no is as important as saying yes. In those hungry early days, I took on projects that weren't quite right because I needed the revenue. Some of my biggest lessons came from clients who seemed like great opportunities but turned out to be energy drains. Learning to qualify prospects properly would have saved me months of frustration.
Your personal life will become part of your professional story. I thought I could keep them separate, but clients connect with authenticity. The fact that I was building a business while adapting to a new city, planning a wedding, and eventually starting a family became part of what made ROAM different from larger agencies.
What's remarkable to me now, twelve years later, is how many of the principles I established in that beach-side townhouse still guide ROAM today. The commitment to being an extension of our clients' teams rather than just a vendor. The belief that the best PR strategies are built on genuine business understanding. The idea that small, focused teams can move faster and think more creatively than large bureaucratic structures.
I also established something in those early days that I didn't even realize was revolutionary at the time: the idea that a PR consultancy could grow alongside its founder's life changes. When I got pregnant with our first child in late 2016, I worried that clients would see it as a liability. Instead, many of them appreciated having a partner who understood the realities of running a business while managing personal responsibilities.
People sometimes ask if I regret leaving Google, especially given the company's continued growth and success. The answer is absolutely not, but to be crystal clear: I'm incredibly grateful for the foundation it provided and the incredible people I met and learned from along the way. Google taught me to think systematically about communication, to understand how messages scale across different audiences, and to always ground creative ideas in measurable business outcomes.
More importantly, Google showed me what world-class marketing and communications looked like from the inside. When I work with clients now, I can draw on that experience to help them build processes and strategies that could work at any scale, even if they're currently a team of five.
The Google experience also taught me the value of diverse perspectives and rigorous thinking. Some of my best work at ROAM has come from applying the analytical frameworks I learned there to much smaller, more nimble situations.
Looking back, twelve years later, I'm grateful for the combination of circumstances that led to ROAM's creation. A relationship that required geographic flexibility. A career moment that was ready for change. Mentors who were willing to share opportunities. And yes, a boyfriend who was brave enough to suggest I bet on myself when I wasn't quite ready to make that leap alone.
The leap from Google to ROAM changed everything—not just professionally, but personally. It taught me that sometimes the best decisions come from a combination of planning and serendipity. It showed me that security isn't about having the biggest company name on your business card; it's about building something that people value.
And perhaps most importantly, it proved that sometimes following your heart—whether that's a person, a dream, or an unexpected opportunity—can lead to outcomes better than anything you originally planned.
