I’m Emily Collins.

When I became a mom, I knew the playbook I’d been handed—full of outdated expectations, performative parenting, and generational “shoulds”—wasn’t going to work. So I tossed it. I gave my inner rebel a green light to ask better questions. I devoured every parenting book I could find, explored every philosophy, and started shaping our own approach to raising little humans.

It was the second (or hundredth—who's counting?) pivotal moment in my journey to becoming a self-pronounced rule breaker. Honestly, the whole saga could be a book—working title: How to Accidentally Become a Rebel While Just Trying to Be a Good Mom. 

It wasn’t a lightbulb moment—it was more like a quiet truth that had always lived in me. That mindset didn’t just show up later in life; it’s been a foundation since the beginning. But as I started forging my own path, it amplified everything. It reminded me that there’s always a way forward—and that belief has carried me through every bold decision since.

Then came Darren—startup junkie, now-husband, and the first person who ever looked me in the eye and said, "Why not build your own thing?"… and meant it. Back then, startups weren't a buzzword. No one in my world had ever suggested entrepreneurship as a career path. That moment changed everything. Darren taught me how to think like a founder—and together, we became unstoppable.

Since then, we've invested in over ten startups, built multiple businesses, and own real estate.

Looking back, I can see so clearly that "the path" was never meant for me.

I was always fiercely independent, full of questions, and allergic to being told what to do. A force, even as a kid. And yet? I craved normal. Something neat. Predictable. Preferably with a bow on top.

So, at 17, I left home and face-planted into adulthood with nothing but a stack of ramen packets and sheer willpower. I put myself through college, checked all the "right" boxes, and became a high-functioning perfectionist in heels. But none of it really fit. My dad passed away when I was 22, I had student loans I couldn't afford, and while I looked like the dream employee on paper, I was dying a slow death inside every office I entered.

Still, through it all, one phrase stuck with me—a line my dad used to say anytime I brought him a wild idea or hit a roadblock:

"Let’s figure out how we’re going to do this."

We were definitely coloring outside the lines... but that was just the warm-up.

We got intentional—on purpose and by necessity