My career started with a psychology degree and a genuine curiosity about how people think, communicate, and what gets in the way of both. That foundation followed me into every role I've held since, even when the job title said something else entirely.

When I moved into technology and eventually into GRC, I kept seeing the same thing: organizations investing in systems, policies, and frameworks that weren't working — not because the tools were wrong, but because the human side had never been addressed. An approval process that bounced between departments for years because nobody owned it. An AI policy that was thorough on paper and completely unworkable in practice. A CIO so unpredictable that her leadership team stopped offering ideas altogether — and half of them eventually left.

These weren't technology failures. They weren't compliance failures. They were human patterns that nobody had named, and therefore nobody could fix.

Mid-career, I took an intentional detour and came back with a communications degree and a growing conviction that the gap between what people know and what they can actually communicate to others was its own kind of organizational failure.

Once you see the pattern, you can't pretend it isn't there.

Understanding how people are wired — how they process information, how they're motivated, how their history shapes the way they show up at work — became as important as any technical skill I'd developed. One-size-fits-all doesn't work in governance, in leadership, or in organizations, because it requires treating people as interchangeable rather than as whole human beings with distinct experiences, needs, and patterns.