Some years arrive like a half-written novel, and you spend them waiting for the plot to thicken.
2025 was mine.
At the end of Q3, I was coming off a brutal stretch of fundraising that wasn't really fundraising at all, just a lot of "no's" because my ethics wouldn't let me take money from the wrong hands. I was bone-tired, second-guessing every pitch deck, and yeah, Mercury was in retrograde, which for a Monday felt like the universe's polite way of saying "stay in bed."
But destiny, it turns out, doesn't take RSVPs. Instead, it handed me 3 moments so serendipitous, so alive with the right energy, that I couldn't have scripted them better if I'd tried.
They weren't just events; they were lifelines, pulling me back into the joy of building with people who get it.
We kicked off Tech Week with Mercury's Brunch and Water Cycling on the Bay. A Monday (oof), but pedal-powered adventure departing from Pier 40, complete with guided rides every 20 minutes, networking bites, lawn games, and that rare merch you actually want to wear.
I almost bailed.
The year's betrayals had me in full hermit mode, and who water-cycles on a Monday when your soul needs a nap? But something, call it a rogue wave of optimism, pulled me there.
We were out on the Bay, legs pumping these floating bikes like we were surfing spreadsheets, the city skyline blurring into possibility. That's when I met her: another female founder, mid-ride, both of us ditching the investor small talk for a full-on nerd-out about GTM sales models. She mapped her churn strategies on a napkin (okay, a soggy coaster), I countered with my retention hacks, and for two hours, we forgot the whole point was supposed to be chasing checks.
Could life be any more perfect?
The wind in our hair, the water beneath us, and a connection that felt like the first real yes of the year. Thank you, Mercury, for turning a hesitant Monday into the kind of magic that reboots your compass. My legs were screaming, but the views were worth every burn. By the time we rolled back into Frankie's, my phone was heavier with intros than regrets, and the air hummed with that electric "we're in this together" vibe. It was the perfect wave to pedal new connections, reminding me that progress isn't a solo sprint, it's a group ride.
Then came the Graham and Walker event, a breath of fresh air after the chaos of a morning gone rogue.
I'd rushed across town, misplaced my purse in a frenzy to get the kids out the door for school, it was RAINING IN THE BAY, so I arrived frazzled, equal parts caffeine and imposter syndrome.
But walking into that room?
It was like sinking into a warm bath after a cold hike. These women are calm, wise, and unapologetically present. They met me exactly where I was, no judgment, just grace.
We talked ethics in fundraising over honeyed tea (literal and figurative), shared the quiet victories of saying no to bad fits, and laughed about the absurdities of it all. It was the flame I needed on my team, that soft fierceness that says, "You're not alone, and you're enough." I left steadier, taller, ready to face the week's whirlwind with a little less armor.
And the grand finale, the one I hesitated on the most:
FounderNexus's SF Grand Opening, a gathering for founders in a space that felt like the future unfurling.
I'd stared at the invite for days.
Exhausted from the week's highs, tempted to curl up with takeout instead. But I went, and from the first handshake, time seemed to stop.
There, amid the hum of real builders trading blueprints for better worlds, I glimpsed the next 12 months tilting into focus. Partnerships crystallizing. Ideas igniting. A ripple effect that could shift not just my path, but humanity's.
It was one of those rare moments where you know, deep in your bones, that everything is aligning, that the frequency you're on is pulling in the right souls for the long haul.
Thank you, FounderNexus, for that pivotal moment.
These weren't accidents. They were deliberate threads in a tapestry woven by communities who choose generosity over gatekeeping, ethics over expediency.
To every builder who hosted the brunch, the COS or EA that mapped the Luma or Partiful route, started the coffee, or opened the door to that grand space, thank you.
Thank you for helping without hesitation, for standing firm when the world rewards shortcuts.
You are the exact kind of humans I'd choose, no question, if we ever get to colonize a new Earth.
You are ethical architects turning grind into grace. May 2026 bring more of these waves, more rooms full of that frequency, more of us building the world we actually want.
Here's to the fortunate events that feel like home.
And to the ones still coming.
