I recently told someone the story of how I became a CEO, and while I have shared pieces of it before, it had been a long time since I really went back there in my mind.
Back to being a 25-year-old mother who simply wanted to watch her son play tee ball.
At that point in my life, I was working collections at a doctor’s office. Life has a way of interrupting carefully made plans, and I needed to work quickly. I knew the doctor personally, and he was a wonderful boss, so I took the job.
Then one day I saw that a local credit union was hiring. I loved learning, so the thought of doing something new excited me, but if I’m being honest, I really wanted the Saturdays off.
Truthfully, I had no idea what a credit union even was. I did not understand the movement, the philosophy, or the mission behind it. All I knew was they did not work Saturdays, and that mattered to a young mom who wanted more time with her child.
So I applied.
Because I’m writing this article, it’s no surprise that I got the job. But what I really got was a calling.
It’s also probably no surprise, like many of you, that I wore many hats over the years. But my primary hat in those early days was collections. I learned quickly that people’s financial struggles are rarely just about money. Behind every late payment is usually stress, fear, sickness, divorce, loss, or simply life happening all at once.
Eventually, I moved to my current credit union, where my love of learning landed me in operations. There, I could see all the different parts of the credit union come together. I genuinely felt good about the work I was doing. I loved the purpose behind it. I loved helping people. I loved the idea that financial institutions could still know members by name and
care about communities beyond numbers on a spreadsheet—and I love a good spreadsheet.
But let me be clear about something.
I never—EVER—dreamed about becoming a CEO.
Not once.
I’m not supposed to be a CEO.
I am the daughter of textile workers from a rural town. I still try to hide my southern accent sometimes, though it slips out more than I realize. I am flawed in more ways than I could list. And there are still moments I sit in rooms with incredibly accomplished people and quietly wonder how in the world I ended up there.
But God must have wanted me in those rooms.
Because if you looked at my resume years ago, you probably would not have predicted this path. Yet somehow life, faith, hard work, heartbreak, growth, and purpose kept moving me forward one step at a time.
And while I can tell you plenty of things I do not have, let me tell you what I do have. I have a work ethic I am deeply proud of, even if it may eventually kill me.
I have passion that runs straight from my heart to help people—and I mean anyone who wants help.
I want to see communities change. I want to see injustices corrected. I want underserved people not just served but served well. Seen. Heard. Thriving.
That is what drives me.
When I applied for the CEO position, I prayed about it for a very long time. The weight of the responsibility honestly scared me. If I’m being truthful, it still does sometimes. I was fully prepared to respect whatever decision our board made because I understood the seriousness of what I was asking for.
During that season, I remember wrestling deeply with whether I was capable of carrying the role.
Then my husband asked me something that changed everything.
“Do you think anyone will love the credit union as much as you do?”
And my answer was immediate.
No.
I don’t.
Not because I think I am the smartest person. I’m not. In fact, one of the greatest blessings in my life is that I know a lot of very smart people. I ask questions constantly. I listen. I learn. I lean on people wiser than me in many areas.
But love?
I have always known how to do that part.
I love the mission of credit unions.
I love people.
I love the possibility that someone can walk through our doors burdened, discouraged, overlooked, or struggling and leave with a little more hope than they had before.
To me, leadership has never been about status. It has never been about titles, reserved parking spots, or having the loudest voice in the room. It has always been about stewardship. About serving people well. About remembering where you came from so you never lose compassion for the people still standing there.
Maybe that is why I still feel more connected to titles like wife, mom, daughter, and friend than I do CEO.
Because those titles remind me who I am outside of the office.
At the end of the day, I am still that young mother who just wanted to make it to tee ball games on Saturdays. I am still the daughter of hardworking people who taught me dignity comes from character, not position. I am still someone who believes communities matter, people matter, and kindness matters.
And maybe you feel like an accidental leader too.
Maybe you are sitting in rooms you never imagined you would sit in. Maybe you feel unqualified, overwhelmed, uncertain, or stretched thin by the season you are in right now.
I understand that feeling more than you know.
But I also believe purpose rarely arrives wrapped in comfort. Sometimes it shows up disguised as responsibility, hardship, sacrifice, or opportunities we never planned for ourselves.
So if this season feels heavy, I hope you remember that being unexpected does not mean being unqualified. There may be purpose in this very season of your life, even if you cannot fully see it yet.
Maybe I was an accidental CEO.
But I was never accidental about loving people.
