Why Counterbalance Exists
One of my earliest money memories is from when I was five years old. My parents had divorced when I was two, and my sister and I were living with my mom—a teacher working in a school district that paid the state minimum.
Even at five, I was aware that money wasn’t something we had a lot of. One night I asked my mom, “How can we afford for me to go to college?” She answered, “Even if your father on earth has abandoned you, you have a Father in Heaven that never will.”
Thirteen years later, I graduated as class valedictorian and went to college on a full athletic scholarship—four years of undergrad and a year of grad school—with almost another $30,000 in graduate scholarships on top of it.
What Powerlessness Teaches You
Looking back, we were in a position where it was easy to feel powerless when it came to money. Some things were simply outside of our control. We were bound by our circumstances. Even so, my mother kept money in its proper perspective—and I never forgot what that kind of steadiness looks like under pressure.
When I was ten, we moved to a different home, and we stayed there for the next ten years. In all that time, the owner never once raised the rent. He knew our family’s situation. He knew how tight money was. That act of quiet, sustained kindness left an indelible mark on my life. Here was a man willing to sacrifice so that our family could succeed.
Why This Is the Work
I know what it’s like to live through a divorce—from the inside, as the kid at the kitchen table. I know the struggles. I know the fears. And years later, I watched a close family friend go through her own divorce as an adult, and saw the same powerlessness from the other side: a woman forced to make the biggest financial decisions of her life without full information, in the worst season of her life.
Those two experiences are why Counterbalance exists.
Today, my practice serves women navigating complex marital estates—where the accounts are many, the tax consequences are real, and the stakes of a single signature can be hundreds of thousands of dollars. But my history is why this work will never be only about the money. Money is a tool for pursuing your purpose—that’s what my mother showed me, and it’s what that landlord’s sacrifice made possible for us.
I do this work because I don’t want women to live with regret about their finances—mistakes made under pressure, or opportunities lost to fear. My goal is to help you move from financial paralysis to a position where you can pursue your purpose. Someone once made an indelible mark on my family’s life. This practice is how I make that mark on others.