A Million Dreams: The Reality of Building Something That Matters

There are days when being a CEO feels like standing at the center of a moving storm—decisions coming from every direction, responsibilities stacking faster than they can be checked off, and the quiet understanding that the success or failure of the organization rests, at least in part, on your shoulders.

And then there are days when everything feels possible.

Leading an organization—especially one rooted in service, care, and humanity—requires resilience on the hard days, clarity on the challenging ones, and an almost stubborn sense of optimism when logic tells you to pause. Because if you don’t believe deeply in the mission, if you don’t carry hope when others are tired, the work doesn’t move forward. There’s a version of leadership people imagine, I believe I also once imagined, if I'm honest—vision-setting, meetings, milestones celebrated publicly. But those moments are built on hours no one sees. Hours spent worrying about funding, navigating systems that weren’t designed for the people you serve, advocating for space in rooms you weren’t initially invited into, and carrying the weight of decisions that don’t come with easy answers.

Some days are heavy. Some days are isolating. Some days you question whether you’re doing enough—or doing it right at all. And still, you show up again the next day. Because the work matters. The heartache of carrying it all is real and, somehow, on any given day, the work matters more.

People often tell me to take a break. That the work will be there tomorrow. And I understand that advice—and I agree with it, in principle. It comes from people who care deeply about me and who support the mission of Meryl’s Safe Haven. Their concern is

genuine, and it’s appreciated more than they know. But that advice often comes from individuals who haven’t been at the bottom of a startup. Who haven’t experienced the fragility of building something from nothing. Who haven’t carried the weight of knowing that this vision isn’t just a passion project—it’s also how the bills get paid. When you’re building an organization from the ground up, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed unless today is handled with care, urgency, and intention.

And for those of you who have said this to me know this: that reality doesn’t negate the need for rest. It simply complicates it. With that, know that I personally appreciate you. Know that MSH would not be what it is without you as well.

One of the most underestimated requirements of leadership is optimism—not the blind kind, but the intentional kind. The kind that allows you to see possibility in the middle of obstacles. The kind that says, “We’ll figure this out,” even when the roadmap isn’t clear. Optimism is what keeps an organization moving when momentum slows and what allows a leader to hold the vision steady when others are tired. That’s part of why The Greatest Showman resonates with me so deeply. Yes, we can—and should—acknowledge the historical realities and the exploitation that existed. That matters. But if we pause on that for a moment and focus on the heart of the story, what stands out is the relentless desire to do better. To be better. To build something meaningful out of nothing.

There’s something familiar about watching someone chase a vision so fiercely that they pour everything they have into it. The belief that something doesn’t exist yet—but could. The willingness to risk comfort for possibility. That pursuit mirrors leadership in ways that feel uncomfortably accurate. The story also doesn’t shy away from the cost. Building the foundation of something meaningful often requires sacrifice. Time. Energy. Presence. There are seasons where the work demands more than you planned to give, where the mission pulls you away from the people you love, even when your intention is to build something that ultimately serves them too.

That tension is real.

You give everything you have because you believe in the outcome. You trust that the imbalance is temporary and that the foundation you’re building will one day hold steady. You hope those closest to you understand that the absence isn’t about distance—it’s about devotion. And still, it weighs on you.

Leadership requires holding two truths at once. You can be deeply committed to your mission and feel the strain it places on your personal life. You can be optimistic and exhausted. You can be proud of what you’re building and honest about what it has cost. None of these truths cancel each other out—they coexist. And despite the hard days, the sacrifices, and the moments of doubt, the work remains worth it. Because when you see impact—real impact—when lives change, systems shift, and community strengthens, it reminds you why you started.

Being a CEO isn’t about titles or recognition. It’s about stewardship. It’s about carrying a vision forward with integrity, humility, and heart. It’s about choosing optimism even when the path isn’t clear and standing in the middle of the chaos, grounded in the belief that the work matters.

And so, you keep going.

Now, at the start of a new year, Meryl’s Safe Haven enters a meaningful season. Next month, we celebrate our three-year anniversary. On January 24th, we will hold our third, annual, Rent Party fundraiser at The White Room. And on January 27th, we will gather to celebrate the life of our namesake.

As an organization, we are fortunate—and we do not take that lightly. Because of you. Because of her. Because of this community.

Our New Year’s resolution is clear: to continue standing in spaces of responsibility and accountability to our community. To keep showing up. To keep doing the work.

I will journey on with you.