About the CEO

Life has a way of testing us, pushing us to the edge, forcing us to confront our deepest fears and darkest moments.

This is my story of struggle, survival, and transformation. It’s a journey filled with heartbreak and healing, pain and perseverance, loss and love. Through my story, I hope to show you that no matter where you come from, no matter how broken you feel, there is always a way to rise, to rebuild, and to create a legacy worth leaving.

I share these pages with you not to dwell in the past, but to celebrate the strength that grows from every wound, the hope that rises after every fall, and the faith that carries us through even the toughest storms.

Thank you for walking this path with me.

Let’s begin.

From the outside, maybe it looked like just another girl growing up in Brooklyn NYC but behind the smile, my world was a bit heavy. 

My childhood wasn't the easiest. My dad wasn't around; his addictions kept him far from being the father I needed. It had its grip on him, and no matter how bad he hurt me, I still longed for him. I used to stare out the window, hoping he’d show up. Wishing he’d fight for me, but he never did. My mom and stepdad (who I call my real dad) did the best they could due to their circumstances and raised above every trial thrown their way while raising 6 kids.

The house lacked affection. Hugs weren't really a thing. Love was shown through survival, not softness. Just function. Just survival. That kind of coldness sticks to your skin; it teaches you to protect yourself even from love. I carried that with me into adulthood. That shaped me as I grew up, I became someone who eventually became too tough on people or too numb. Even when I became a mother... I struggled to hug my own kids. Thats a pain that's hard to explain; to want to love, to want to connect, but not knowing how because it wasn't done for you. But God has a way of healing us through the ones we create. One of my kids; 10 specifically so full of love, naturally affectionate, started breaking that wall. Slowly helped me see that love doesn't always hurt... sometimes it heals. 

 Emotionally, I always felt out of place, like I didn't belong. I use to cry a lot as a kid; so much pain in a little heart. What I didn't understand back then was the sacrifice my young mom was making. Now, as a mother myself I see it clearer, and I understand my mom and have the upmost respect and love for her courage she had. But the constant source of love in my life was my grandmother. She saw me, she made me feel valued and never overlooked. Shes been my safe space when nothing else felt safe. My warmth. My softness in a world that had already hardened me too young. She made me feel seen; deeply, truly seen, and she never let me forget that I was loved. Our bond was unshakable. In a life where I constantly felt like a shadow, my grandmother made me feel like the sun.

 Those early years shaped everything on how I viewed the world, how I respond to pain, how I love and even how I avoid love. It molded my survival instincts, my fears, and my dreams.

Then came the relationships... and they weren't kind to me either. I've been through things I don't wish on anyone. Beaten, [S]assaulted, Stalked, Controlled and so much more. One man who I loved and trusted at the time in who was my boyfriend nearly threw me off a roof in an attempt in trafficking me and avoiding law enforcement. Another cheated on me constantly and even with my enemy at the time while I carried our child. I've been lied to, used, manipulated; even spiritually toyed with. I gave pieces of myself to people who only knew how to destroy. And somehow, I survived it all.

At just 20 years old, I found myself staring at a pregnancy test... and for the first time in my life, I felt time slow down. I was going to be a mother. I had my first child at 21, and that baby came to represent something I’d later understand as the number 7; a number that would forever symbolize the rawest, most unhealed version of myself. I was still a child in so many ways. Emotionally, Mentally, and Spiritually. I had no idea what I was doing… only that I had someone who now depended on me.

Being a young mom wasn’t just tough! It was exhausting. I was working as a daycare teacher, spending my days caring for other people’s children, while constantly on the run trying to make sure my baby had someone to care for her too. I’d carry 7 out with me in the early mornings to go to the completely other side of Brooklyn, just to get her to her grandmother's house before I clocked in to care for kids that weren’t mine.

Most of my paycheck was gone before I could even count it. Cabs, Formula, Diapers, and more cabs. The cycle repeated weekly, and I rarely got to feel like the money I was working so hard for was really mine. I remember moments where I’d sit on the edge of my bed; numb, tired, and wondering how I was going to make it through another day. I knew I needed something to change. Ideas would come to me, big dreams, small solutions; but just as quickly as they arrived, they’d vanish under the weight of survival.

Mentally, I struggled a lot during that time. There wasn't any stable support from 7's other parent. Physically yes but financially, it was all on me. While the burden felt unbearable some days, I will always be thankful for my parents and siblings who stepped in when they could. That helped me stay grounded enough to show up for 7, even on my worst days.

Then, 2.5 years later, I found out I was pregnant again. This time, I was 23. I had matured a lot; not just from motherhood, but from pain, from responsibility, from choosing every single day to show up even when I didn’t feel strong. This child came to represent the number 10. 10 got the healing version of me! While 7 made me grow up quickly, 10 helped me soften. I was still young, still learning; but I had a deeper sense of what it meant to be a mother. This time around, I had more support. The only difference this time was I was 100% financially supported but the physical lacked. However, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was carrying everything alone. 

But healing doesn’t always mean peaceful. While I was almost two months pregnant with 10, I was forced to transfer to a domestic violence shelter in NYC. The trauma I’d endured from 7’s father had reached a point where safety had to come first. I had no choice; I needed to protect both of my children, even if it meant starting over in a place where no one knew me. The shelter became a strange kind of sanctuary. 10 was the first baby to be born inside the facility I was placed in, and the support I received there was unlike anything I would've ever imagined. The staff, the residents; everyone looked out for my kids and me. Even when I didn't need anything, they still made sure I had extra of everything; from essentials to gift cards, to simple gestures of care that reminded me we weren't alone.

But then 2020 came and the world shut down. There I was 25, inside a shelter with a 3-year-old and a newborn, locked away in a somewhere my family or anyone couldn't know about because the shelter had strict confidentiality policies for myself and all the other Domestic Violence SURVIVORS. I was isolated; the pandemic was terrifying, no one could visit, no one could know where we were and eventually Id end up catching COVID.

All I could do was protect my babies with every ounce of strength I had left; while holding onto my sanity inside four walls that weren't mine, in a world that had suddenly gone dark; so, did my mental health. I'll never forget how heavy that time was. But somehow… even in all the chaos… a deeper version of me was born. The pandemic didn't just change the world; it changed me. Everything felt like it was crashing at once. I was isolated in a DV shelter with my two children, trying to smile through survival while battling a war no one could see. The world was locked down and streets empty. Death felt like it was outside everyone's door, and I was alone, away from my entire family. Cut off from the physical support. FaceTime could only do so much, and some days, even that wasn't enough to keep me grounded. The silence was loud. The walls felt like they were closing in. My mind... it wasn't mine anymore.

 I had just given birth less than 6 months prior; I should've been glowing, enjoying those first moments of bonding and new beginnings, but instead I was sinking deeper into a place that felt inescapable. My postpartum depression hit hard; it wasn't just sadness, it was numbness. It was hearing my babies laugh and feeling nothing but guilt because I didn't feel whole enough to give them the mother they deserved. I remember standing by the window one day, the pain was deafening, the thoughts were heavy, relentless and cruel. "Maybe they're better off without me". Thats what the darkness made me believe. I wasn't trying to abandon them; I just genuinely thought I was the problem. That my brokenness was leaking into everything around me. "Maybe if I could make the noise stop... maybe they would be free from it too".

In that moment I walked to my window ledge of the facility and almost jumped off.. that was one of the lowest points of my life. But GOD... he stepped in quietly and reminded me that even in my shattered state, I was still worthy of healing. Still worthy of life.

My kids never stopped loving me. And somehow, even in my worst, I never stopped loving them. That love, that sacred bond... became my lifeline. It didn't get better overnight, healing came in waves; but every breath after that moment was a choice to stay, to fight, to remind myself again piece by piece. And I did. After that moment by the window everything changed. Not right away, not dramatically, but something in my spirit shifted. I didn't hear a loud voice, I didn't see a miracle but I felt something; a stillness that wasn't there before. A whisper that cut through the chaos in my mind: "You are not done. You are not broken beyond repair, YOU ARE MINE". That was God. Not in a church pew, not through a sermon, but in the darkest corner of a room where I thought I had no reason to keep going. He met me there. In the isolation, the fear and the middle of my storm. It wasn't an instant deliverance, but it was a invitation to let him into the pieces of me that I had hidden from everyone, including myself.

 I didn't know what healing looked like, I didn't know how to pray right but I knew I had to give him something even if it was just silence, tears, and surrender. Thats when I started fasting; not just from food nut from people. From distractions, social media, noise that constantly pulled me away from who I was created to be. I disconnected from the world and reconnected with the one who had been waiting on me the whole time. God showed me that my pain had purpose and that my story wasn't shameful; it was sacred. He showed me that even the ugliest chapters of my life could still produce something beautiful if I handed it over to him.

From that moment on I told him I won't go back to the woman who thought she wasn't enough. In the middle of COVID I opened up and launched my first online beauty store. Lashes, accessories, everything a girl could want to feel herself again. It was more than just a business; it was my escape, my expression, my way of reclaiming power in a time when everything felt out of control. For a moment it worked. Orders came in and compliments rolled through. Success knocked on my door and I answered with pride. But behind the screen, behind the smiles and the shipping labels, I started sinking again with my mental. The same speed that success found me was the same speed depression came storming in. I started losing motivation and I stopped believing in myself. The business that I poured my entire soul into; over $6,000 of my hard-earned money slipped through my fingers and when it did, I felt like I lost a part of me too.

 I felt like a failure. I felt like I had nothing to show for all my effort but burnout and disappointment. Still, I didn't stop trying. I dabbed into YouTube and came up with ideas, but nothing stuck. Or maybe I couldn't stick because I wasn't ready and it wasn't my season yet. However, life kept moving. In 2021, I moved into my first apartment with 7 and 10 by the strength of God. Even residents in the DV facility were confused on how I would've been approved for the apartment and the fact that I never physically applied. God applied on my behalf! My apartment was more than walls, it was freedom. It was the first time I truly felt what independence meant. I wasn't just surviving anymore. I was providing and finally creating a life that felt like ours. That move birthed a different type of woman in me. Stronger, more grounded and more aware. But even in moments of growth, heartbreak finds its way in.

By 2022, things with 10’s father began to fall apart. We separated under circumstances I never saw coming. It hurt; not just because of what we lost, but because of the silence that followed. For two whole years, we didn’t speak. No communication. No closure. Just a void for me left to fill. By the end of 2024, a window reopened. We reconnected; not as lovers, but as friends. And that, in its own way, was healing too. That same year something powerful also happened...

In 2024, I gave birth to my third child - "6". My first boy, my healer and the missing piece. 6 got the best version of me; the version I wish 7 and 10 had met first, especially 7; I owed her that much. He was born to a woman who had already seen the storm, already carried the weight, already started her healing. And although 6’s father never built a bond with him, I made a vow: this child would never feel unloved, overlooked, or left behind. 6? He changed me. He didn't just complete our family but he awakened something inside of me I didn't know I had left. He reignited my spirit. Being pregnant alone with him was hard but it was also sacred. I carried him with a smile and prayers; through it all I found a new strength and deeper faith. 6 didn't just prepare me to parent again, he prepared me to proceed and that's exactly what I did. As I got my mental in order; I grew stronger faith in my faith, something began to awaken inside me and a desire not to just survive but to create. To take everything I had been through and turn it into something beautiful.

 I started to realize that I wasn't just meant to tell my story, I was meant to build from it. One day, during a fast, God whispered something new into my spirit:

"You've always loved beauty... now use it to heal." Thats when the vision for my makeup brand was born. It wasn’t just about lip gloss, blush, or eyeshadow.

It was about giving women — especially women like me — a reminder that they’re still worthy of feeling beautiful, even after trauma, heartbreak, and hardship.

This brand would be for the girl who’s cried herself to sleep.

The mom who forgot what self-love felt like.

The woman rebuilding her confidence, one layer at a time.

I started small — scribbling names, jotting down shade ideas, envisioning packaging that felt soft, powerful, and feminine. Every color had a story. Every product had a meaning.

• “Fire Red” isn’t just a bold lip — its Date Night, reminding women that they still deserve to feel wanted and confident.
• “Latte” is Everyday — soft, simple, effortless beauty for the busy mom or tired student.
• “Dainty” is flirty but soft — for the woman rediscovering herself after years of putting everyone else first.
• “Mean Girl” — that is for every girl who had to toughen up in order to survive, but never lost her softness.

      • "Fiery Love" is the reminder that even though love can burn, it also teaches us how to rise. It’s bold, unapologetic, and full of energy — just like the woman wearing it.

 

I didn’t have investors. I didn’t have a mentor. But I had faith.

And I had experience; not in business, but in life. Real-life pain. Real-life healing. And real love for other women going through the same silent battles I once fought alone and is still healing from. I spent hours researching formulas, packaging vendors, names, logos. I even went through samples, not just as a businesswoman, but as someone who needed these products to feel like home. & when I finally saw my first gloss in hand… I cried. Not just because I did it, but because I stayed alive long enough to do it. Launching this brand wasn’t just about building income — it was about building legacy. It was about creating something my daughters could be proud of. Something my son would know came from resilience.

Something that reminded the world:

You can still glow — even after the fire.

It was the last night of 2024 — December 31st. The world outside was preparing for fireworks and celebration, but inside my home, it was just me and my babies. 7 and 10 were running around, full of laughter, dancing through the quiet chaos of our living room. 6 was sleeping peacefully in his crib, wrapped in the stillness of a nap. I was laying on my bed, reflecting. Thinking about all the things I survived. All the things I had lost… and all the ways I still hadn’t given up.

That’s when it happened.

God spoke to me. Not in a loud voice. Not in a dream, but in a soft whisper that wrapped around my spirit and settled deep in my chest:

“A clothing brand.”

I froze for a second.

A clothing brand? Me?

It caught me off guard. That wasn’t part of my plan. I was so focused on trying to rebuild my YouTube channel at the time. I didn’t know anything about fashion manufacturing, logos, or design. But I did know the voice of God. I knew how He works — how He speaks things into existence before we can even imagine them. So even though I didn’t understand it fully, I trusted it.

On January 1st, 2025, the very next day; I started building the vision. He already had the name for me: Dauntless Society. A name that represented fearlessness. Boldness, & determination. With that name came the logo: SJ7106: a powerful reflection of my children and their divine alignment in my story. I grabbed my iPad and started designing. I wasn’t a fashion expert. I didn’t go to school for this. But something in me knew. The very first design I created was the Dauntless Society Tracksuit; and piece by piece, idea by idea, I started building a collection I could feel in my soul.

By the third day, God moved again, this time through someone else. A connection was placed in my path, and through that conversation, I was introduced to what would become one of the greatest blessings of my journey: my manufacturing team overseas. People I’d never met before became instrumental in helping me bring Dauntless Society to life. And just like that, I wasn’t dreaming anymore... I was building. Within two weeks, I held the first physical piece of clothing I had ever designed — something that once only existed as a drawing on my iPad. I can’t even describe the feeling. I stared at it for a long time, overwhelmed by emotion. It was real. It was tangible. And it was mine. But I kept it quiet. Not out of fear, but out of wisdom. I knew no weapon formed against me would prosper, but I also knew the Bible never promised those weapons wouldn’t form. So I stayed silent. I moved in purpose. I protected what God planted. Even as I write this now — on February 17th, 2025 — the world still doesn’t know what I’m building. But by the time you read these words, Dauntless Society will already be out there. In the hands of dreamers, doers, and dauntless souls.

In August 2025, I finalized my website. I built new relationships. I formed partnerships. I put the structure in place to build something my kids could inherit; something that would outlive me. This wasn’t just about fashion. This was about faith. This was about legacy. This was about walking in my calling; even when it didn’t make sense at first. Dauntless Society isn’t just a brand God gave me, it is proof that even in the quietest moments, He’s always working and so am I. As Dauntless Society started to take shape in the background of my life, something deeper was happening within me, something unexplainable unless you’ve ever been cracked open just to be rebuilt by God Himself.

The brand was growing, and ideas were flowing faster than I could catch them. Connections were aligning effortlessly, and the vision became clearer with each passing day. It wasn’t just strategy or creativity guiding me, it was the Holy Spirit. It was obedience. While others were watching reels and TikTok's to figure out what to do next, I was fasting. I was praying. I was lying face down some nights, asking God to make it make sense; to help me break generational cycles, not just get a bag. This wasn’t just about clothing anymore. This was about covering people in courage. Reminding them who they are. Reminding me who I am, because truth be told, I wasn’t just building Dauntless Society... God was rebuilding me.

In private, I was still wrestling with wounds — old betrayals, abandoned dreams, failed relationships, and fears I didn’t speak aloud. But every time I sat down to design, every time I got an email from my manufacturer or another door opened, I saw a glimpse of God’s hand — and I felt seen. I felt led. There were days I wanted to quit, days I doubted if I was qualified. I’d look at my kids and feel the pressure of being everything for them when I barely had anything left for myself.

But then, I’d remember:

He chose me.

He called me.

Not because I was perfect, but because I was willing.

Because even in my brokenness, I kept saying yes.

I started waking up earlier, not just to work on the brand, but to spend time with God before my day demanded everything from me. I stopped seeking validation from social media and started journaling, reading the Word, listening to sermons while I packaged samples, and just being still. I needed God more than I needed likes. I wanted to be aligned, not just applauded, and slowly but surely, things started shifting.

My mind felt clearer, my heart felt lighter. my ideas became purpose-driven, not profit-driven and that’s when I truly understood:

This brand wasn’t born out of ambition — it was birthed out of assignment.

Dauntless Society was never just about fashion.

It was about healing.

It was about walking boldly.

It was about being covered, clothed, and crowned — inside and out.

 

I’m not just creating brands; I’m creating a legacy; A legacy for my children — for 7, 10, 6, and every future generation who will walk in the doors I’m opening today. I want them to know that they don’t have to settle. They don’t have to be limited by their circumstances or the mistakes of the past. With Dauntless Society, my clothing line, and my makeup brand, I am laying down roots. These aren’t just businesses; they’re vehicles of hope and opportunity. They represent the hustle, the faith, and the unshakable determination to leave something behind that my children and their children can build on. I envision a future where my kids never have to work for anyone else, where they can take the torch and expand the empire I started with faith, passion, and resilience. A future where they are proud to say, “My mom showed me how to dream big, love fiercely, and create fearlessly.”

This empire is more than fashion and beauty, it’s about breaking cycles. It’s about turning scars into strength and stories into success. This is my story;  a story of struggle, survival, and unwavering strength. 

A story of a woman who refused to be defined by her past and chose instead to rise, to heal, and to build. I am proof that even in our darkest moments, there is a spark waiting to ignite a flame. A flame that can light the way not just for ourselves, but for generations to come.

 

To my children, and every generation after them:

You are the reason I fight, the reason I build, the reason I refuse to give up.

You deserve a life filled with love, freedom, and endless opportunity.

May you carry this legacy boldly, knowing that your roots run deep in strength and resilience.

My journey is far from over, but I step into the future with a heart full of hope,

a spirit unbreakable, and a vision bigger than any challenge I’ve faced.

This is just the beginning — the start of a legacy that will inspire, empower, and transform.

May you always remember that no matter where life takes you, you carry within you the strength, courage, and resilience to overcome anything.

Remember, no matter where you come from, no matter the battles you face,

you have the power to rewrite your story.

And that power lives within you, always.

This portion is for you.

For the legacy I am building so you can stand taller, dream bigger, and never settle for less than you deserve.

This is not just my story — it is ours.

 

A story of brokenness made beautiful, of wounds transformed into wisdom,

and of a legacy that will outlive me.

Step into your power, own your truth, and create your own path.

Because the power to rewrite your story lies within you, always.

With all my love,

Mom

 

 

To my family and friends who stood by me,

Thank you for your unwavering support, love, and faith in me when I needed it most.

And to every woman who reads this,

may my story inspire you to embrace your strength, pursue your dreams, and heal your wounds.

This is just the beginning — for all of us.