The Meaning Behind Wildflower Ventures
About a year and a half ago, I was laid off from an extremely toxic workplace. I was burning the candle at both ends, trying to be a corporate girlie and a present mom. I was drowning. After the layoff, I sat with myself for months trying to figure what am I supposed to do in this life. Where do I find value, and where to people find value in me?
I decided to start my own company. I wanted my boys to see me being fulfilled instead of always drained. I wanted them to understand what mommy was trying to create and the importance in believing in yourself. I wanted to create something with them instead of always passing them off to other people. At the core of it, I wanted to integrate my life with my paying job.
I decided to start my own company. I wanted my boys to see me being fulfilled instead of always drained. I wanted them to understand what mommy was trying to create and the importance in believing in yourself. I wanted to create something with them instead of always passing them off to other people. At the core of it, I wanted to integrate my life with my paying job.
Selfishly, my youngest starts kindergarten in August, and I wanted him to be at home. In Roanoke before we relocated, we could afford a nanny. But when we moved to the Raleigh-Durham area, that reality became unaffordable. We got a taste of a more relaxed way of life during the pandemic (ironic, I know), and we just didn’t want to go back to it. Believe me, we tried. And all of us hated it.
Gradually, I started talking with my boys about starting a business. They came to me to the bank to open my business bank account. We talked names, what I would be doing, what our day-to-day could look like. During one of these conversations, my oldest suggested we call the company Flowers so that people new I grew things.
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗜 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄? I sat on this name for a few weeks and realized I'm not a flower, but instead I'm a 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙀𝙍. I'm not a neatly placed tulip in a manicured flowerbed. I'm not nurtured and watered so that I'm ensured to grow. I'm weathered, tread on, gobbled up and spit out.
Wildflower Ventures isn’t just a name. It's a feeling. It's a rebellion. It's a call-to-action.
The corporate world wasn’t built for me. It wasn’t built for flexibility, creativity, or for people who challenge the status quo. It was built for predictability like neatly curated lawns and perfectly edged flowerbeds.
Wildflowers don’t ask for permission. They don’t wait to be planted. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙩. They grow in the cracks, in the forgotten spaces, in the places no one thought to cultivate. They fill the gaps, fixing what’s missing, and adding value to the ecosystem 𝙗𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.
And just like wildflowers, I refuse to be tamed. 𝙄’𝙢 𝙗𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. I’m not a black-suit, corporate-ladder-climbing girlie (not that there is anything wrong with that). I say what I think. I disrupt. I bring color to spaces that have been drained. And I chose 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 because what I'm doing is a 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴. It's something you build, navigate, and adapt to. It’s unpredictable. It’s wild. And that’s exactly how it should be.
When companies hire me it's because they are challenging the way things have been done in agriculture for decades (if not centuries). They are bringing biology-based products to the market. They need bold. They need vibrant. And they need tough. They also need someone to sees a blank space and sees a field of wildflowers instead of a manicured lawn.
So on this first day of spring I ask you to emerge from your slumber and enter this world anew. 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙. Stop trying to fit into the manicured flowerbed. Get out there. Be bold. Be yourself. Create something that refuses to be ignored—something breathtaking, something awe-inspiring.
