I didn’t learn this from a book.

And definitely not from a fancy leadership course.

I learned it in the field. On sneakers. On high heels. In chaos. In silence.

Here's my story.

I founded a school paper at the age of 9 in primary school, and continued it in secondary school when my friends moved to different schools. I turned it into a magazine for both schools as I didn’t want to lose connection.

My first website launched in 1997 when I was 17. By that time i didn't know what to write about so I started a collection of weblinks for kids to get on the internet (www.kinderstartpagina.nl).
And I started building websites for smalll companies (while nobody was really asking for them yet).
That's when I learnd coding.

While moving out to Utrecht to go to collage, I started working in some of the most notorious promo teams of that time. Think Veronica Promotions, Flugel, and similar crews that were known for bold, in-your-face sales.

We were the kind of teams you’d see at festivals, events, or even on the streets, walking straight up to strangers to sell them subscriptions, shots, or whatever the campaign needed. It was fast, loud, and unapologetic, exactly where I learned to ask without hesitation, handle rejection, and connect with people on the spot.

I loved working so I handled multiple jobs at the same time. Working at a call center team was my first office-job. I quickly got promoted to shift lead and team lead because I crushed the numbers.
When I found out we were pushing products people didn’t really needed, I quit.
That’s where I learned: results matter, but values matter more.

At the age of 20 I started my own event agency. It was a side hustle next to my studies.
We ran full-on events and campaigns for BMW, VGZ, Deutsche Post and many more and I loved it. I learned how to built brand feeling, manage team behaviour and client expectations.

In events you also learn how to fix things fast and smart. I loved being hands-on and flexible. Quick-acting, MacGyver-style problem solving became second nature. When something went wrong, you had to think on your feet and make it work: no excuses.

And I also learned the second layer: root-cause thinking.
It wasn’t enough to just patch problems. If the same problem happens again it becomes a signal: you prepare better next time You redesign the system to make sure it never bottlenecks again. If the branded thirts became a last-minute bottleneck multiple times, I saw an opportinity: I bought a textile printer to remove that dependency forever. When I saw hosts flounder, I didn’t just coach them on the spot: I wrote a playbook so it wouldn’t happen again.

This led me to one big realization: you can’t just react, you need to own the whole system. That’s where I truly learned ownership, clarity, and culture as a tool to stop chaos from repeating.

At one point I thought: I’ve got this figured out.
I made good money and took time off. But I quickly learned: without rhythm, without visibility, the work dries up. Even your best clients forget you. That’s where I learned momentum. Systems. Consistency.

The event agency grew, and with low costs and high margins came one surprise: a lot of taxes to pay. To be “smart,” I decided to make more expenses. That’s when I started a webshop thinking buyin goods would reduce my taxable profit. Only later did I learn the hard truth: inventory sits on the balance sheet. It doesn’t lower your profit. Lesson learned.

But that so-called mistake also opened a new door. Back then, webshops were barely a thing in the Netherlands. People doubted anyone would ever send money online. I saw the potential in the US market, built my own website from scratch, and hosted it on a server in my room. I started selling personalized t-shirts, car stickers, and hobby craft items I imported in person from Korea, China, and the USA—turning every buying trip into a business expense.

It was a bold move that combined curiosity, travel, and tech. And it taught me something bigger: being early in a trend means you have to trust your vision before others see it.

But then life forced a shift.

I got sick. I couldn’t do promo work or run events the way I used to. My energy was limited, and showing up at live campaigns wasn’t an option anymore. But I still had my ideas and the webshop.

So I doubled down online. I built another webshop. Then another. And eventually, a rhinestone empire (yes, really). What started as a second side move became my main stage. I turned small niche products into a thriving online business.

And slowly, the events faded out. It wasn’t a planned exit; it was a natural transition. I stopped chasing the hustle of on-site work and instead learned the art of building something scalable without being everywhere myself. That’s when I realised: going fully online was more than a business model, It was freedom.

That’s where I launched my second community. Hyves and Facebook didn’t exist yet, so I built my own online forum just like I had done for my hockey team. Customers shared, asked questions, created things together. And I listened. I watched what they needed and turned their feedback into products and services. I scaled through service, not just sales.

And something unexpected happened: this was the first time I truly felt the vibe of meaningful work. I created voluntary positions in my webshop and community, giving purpose to people who were out of jobs. They became moderators, packed goods, and offered advice to other users. A strong, self-sustaining community naturally grew around the business.

I realized scaling wasn’t just about growth: it was about creating space for people to thrive, even in small ways.

Then came the next chapter.

In 2013. My boyfriend (now husband) asked me to systemize his family business. I loved it. It was my first digital transformation.