Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day. Neither Was I.
My life looked a hell of a lot different seven years ago.
Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.
Actually, sometimes I have to look at old pictures and remember who tf I am, what I’ve overcome and just how much life can change when you keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Because apparently my brain likes to conveniently forget all of that when I’m frustrated that I haven’t accomplished 47 things before lunch.
Living with hydrocephalus has taught me that growth rarely happens in a straight line.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
I literally keep that reminder on my desk.
And lately, I’ve realized it applies to almost every part of my life.
The Team That Helped Me Get Back on My Feet
Seven years ago, “progress” had a completely different meaning.
It wasn't a website launch. It wasn't completing a major project. It wasn't learning a new system, solving a problem or checking something off my never-ending list.
Progress was getting back on my feet.
Literally.
There was a time when I was in a wheelchair and walking, talking and getting back to some version of normal life were the goals in front of me.
When I look at pictures of my UTSW and BSW team from that chapter of my life, I don't just see doctors, nurses and therapists.
I see people who played a role in rebuilding me.
They had knowledge I didn't have. They pushed me in ways I couldn't push myself. They helped me accomplish things I couldn't have accomplished alone.
But I still had to do the work.
And eventually, the girl in the wheelchair started walking.
Then she started hiking.
And somewhere along the way, apparently walking normally wasn't enough because I've now conquered two Mammoth Marches.
Going from a wheelchair to crossing the finish line of a 20-mile Mammoth March—twice—is one of those things I probably don't stop and appreciate enough.
That's growth.
Not overnight. Not easily. And definitely not without some stubbornness.
One step became another.
Then another.
Then thousands of them.
Funny how that works.
Marketing Was Already Part of My Story
My career has followed a similar pattern.
I actually started working in the HVAC industry about ten years ago in a hybrid sales and marketing role.
At the time, I obviously didn't know where it would eventually lead me. I was learning the industry, working with customers, supporting sales and getting my first real taste of marketing.
And that's where something clicked.
I loved marketing.
I loved figuring out how to communicate something better. I loved the creative side, the strategy, the branding and the challenge of figuring out what makes people actually pay attention.
That little piece of my job eventually became something much bigger.
I went back to school. I studied marketing. I kept learning. I started figuring out which parts of this massive field actually made my brain light up.
And eventually I found the sweet spot between marketing, technology, design, problem-solving and my slightly unhealthy obsession with figuring things out.
Web development.
Somewhere along the way, I became the web girl. Excuse me while I channel my own version of Penelope Garcia.
And honestly?
I freaking love it.
But that didn't happen in a day either.
Sometimes You Help Build Something You Don't Get Credit For
I've also learned that growth doesn't always come with recognition.
There was a time when I helped with projects that started small and grew significantly over time.
Was I the only reason it grew?
Absolutely not.
That's actually the entire point of this blog.
Things grow because people contribute.
That's another form of growth I've had to learn: your contribution doesn't become less real because someone else chooses not to acknowledge it.
Sometimes you help build something and don't get your name engraved on the side.
Build anyway.
Take what you learned and build the next thing even better.
Even This Blog Had to Grow Up
This website is another perfect example.
It didn't start as Shunt Happens.
It started as a travel blog.
I wanted somewhere to document adventures, experiences and the places I was going as I started actually living again.
But I changed.
So, the blog changed with me.
The more I shared about living with hydrocephalus, brain surgeries, having a shunt and everything that comes with this weird life of mine, the more I realized there was something bigger I wanted to do with this space.
I didn't just want to show where I was going.
I wanted to talk about why being able to go there meant so much in the first place.
Eventually, that travel blog evolved into Shunt Happens—a place where I could advocate, share my perspective and hopefully make someone else living through this feel a little more understood.
But I never stopped loving travel either.
So that grew too.
Travels with CT now has its own identity and its own space while Shunt Happens continues growing into something completely different.
Same person.
Same original idea.
Different branches.
Growth doesn't always mean abandoning what you started.
Sometimes it means realizing the thing you've built has become big enough to become two things.
Growth Is Rarely a Straight Line
When I look at all of these chapters together, there's a pretty obvious pattern.
The wheelchair wasn't the end of my story.
That first HVAC job wasn't the final version of my career.
And I sure as hell didn't stay the same person.
Everything evolved.
Some of it intentionally.
Some of it because life basically grabbed me by the shoulders and said, Surprise! We're doing this now.
I've made mistakes.
I've taken on too much.
I've had ideas fail.
I've had ideas work better than I expected.
I've learned when to stand my ground and when to listen.
And one of the hardest lessons for me has been learning that asking for help doesn't make me less capable.
Seven years ago, I needed a team to help me physically get back on my feet.
Today, I have a team helping me become better at what I do.
Different battlefield. Same lesson.
You don't have to build everything alone.
Growing Alongside AIR
That's also why being part of AIR Control Concepts during this stage of its growth means so much to me.
Because once again, I'm watching something grow while I'm growing right alongside it.
AIR is growing.
Our companies are growing.
Our teams are growing.
Our ideas, systems and capabilities continue to evolve.
And with that comes new challenges.
New processes.
New projects.
New problems nobody has encountered yet.
And occasionally someone asks, “Can we do this?”
Which is basically the fastest way to activate my competitive side.
Well, now I have to figure it out.
But what I appreciate more as I get further into my career is understanding that AIR isn't being built by one person.
It couldn't be.
Every person has a key role.
Some people lead.
Some sell.
Some manage operations.
Some build relationships.
Some create.
Some strategize.
Some solve problems nobody else even realizes exist.
Some of us hide behind screens with approximately 37 browser tabs open making sure everything works.
Hi. It's me.
But every role matters.
Because that's how something scales.
Nashville Put It Into Perspective
Our marketing retreat in Nashville this past week really made me stop and think about that.
And apparently, I needed to touch grass.
Well...downtown Broadway.
Same thing?
No?
Okay.
Being together in person, hearing ideas from different people, collaborating, laughing and talking about where AIR is going next reminded me how easy it is to get tunnel vision when you're focused on your own little piece of something much larger.
I know my websites.
I know my projects.
I know my deadlines.
But then you get everyone in the same room and realize how many individual pieces are moving at the same time.
That's the cool part.
AIR's growth isn't one person's story.
It's ours.
Just like the UTSW team had different roles in getting me back on my feet, every person within a growing company brings something different to the build.
You need different expertise.
Different personalities.
Different perspectives.
Different strengths.
You need people who challenge each other.
You need people willing to say, “I don't know, but I'll figure it out.”
And sometimes you need somebody to remind you that you're attempting to build Rome before 3 p.m. on a Tuesday.
Every Version Had a Purpose
Maybe that's what I've been missing when I get impatient with myself.
I have a habit of looking at where I want to be instead of appreciating what each version of me contributed to getting here.
The girl learning HVAC ten years ago mattered.
The girl learning marketing mattered.
The girl in the wheelchair mattered.
The mother raising her child alone mattered.
The girl relearning how to walk mattered.
The college student mattered.
The traveler mattered.
The person helping someone else's platform grow mattered—even without the credit.
The blogger mattered.
The advocate mattered.
The girl behind the screen matters.
Every version built something the next version needed.
And I think companies work the same way.
People come in with different skills, experiences and perspectives. They contribute their piece. Someone else builds on it. Processes change. Teams evolve. Ideas get better.
Eventually you look around and realize the thing you're standing in today couldn't exist without all of those pieces that came before it.
Keep Building
I'm still growing.
So is Shunt Happens.
So is Travels with CT.
So is my career.
And so is AIR.
Good.
I don't want to be finished.
I want to keep learning. I want to keep building. I want people around me who are better than me at things and aren't afraid to teach me. I want to contribute what I'm good at and help someone else when my skill set happens to be what they need.
Because whether you're rebuilding a body, rebuilding a life, growing a platform, creating a career, building a brand or scaling a company, growth doesn't happen all at once.
And it sure as hell doesn't happen because of one person.
Seven years ago, there was a team helping me get out of a wheelchair.
Today, I've completed two Mammoth Marches, built a career I genuinely love, created platforms that mean something to me and somehow ended up being the girl behind the screen helping support the digital growth of a company that's growing right alongside me.
That's a lot of building.
And we're nowhere near done.
Rome wasn't built in a day.
Neither was my recovery.
Neither was my career.
Neither was this blog.
Neither is AIR.
And maybe that's the whole point.
Stop being so damn impatient with the construction.
Keep building.
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