How I Found My Way to Flowers
For a long time, I thought everyone else had something I didn't.
Some people seemed to naturally excel in school. They loved math. Science made sense to them. They knew exactly what they wanted to become.
I wasn't one of those people.
Looking back, I realize I wasn't lacking direction—I was simply looking in the wrong places.
Even as a kid, I was constantly making things. I was crafting, drawing, decorating my room, planning over-the-top themed parties, making custom T-shirts for friends, and entering costume contests just for the fun of creating something. I became known as that friend who cared how things looked and, more importantly, how they made people feel.
I just didn't realize there was a career hidden inside all of that.
It wasn't until I moved to New York to study Visual Presentation and Exhibition Design at the Fashion Institute of Technology that everything finally clicked.
For the first time, I found myself surrounded by people who saw the world the way I did.
We weren't just learning how to arrange objects or decorate spaces. We were studying how color influences emotion, how lighting changes perception, how texture creates feeling, and how thoughtful design can tell a story before anyone speaks a word.
Design wasn't just about making something beautiful.
It was about making someone feel something.
That realization changed everything.
One of my favorite memories from school was designing a table for the DIFFA Gala as part of a class competition. Our design was selected to be installed at the actual gala in New York under the mentorship of Preston Bailey. It was one of those moments that quietly whispered, You're on the right path.
After graduation, I began working at Anthropologie.
It felt like a natural next chapter. Every display, every vignette, every seasonal installation was another opportunity to create an experience instead of simply arranging products. I loved the storytelling behind retail design just as much as the finished result.
Then, almost by accident, flowers entered the picture.
A coworker's mom happened to be a florist and asked if I'd be interested in freelancing for a wedding.
I said yes.
I had no idea that one day would completely change the direction of my life.
Standing in that venue, watching a blank space slowly transform into something emotional and alive, I felt something I hadn't experienced before.
Flowers weren't just another design element.
They moved.
They changed with the light. They carried fragrance. They brought softness to architecture. They connected people to nature in a way no other material could.
Everything I had learned about design suddenly had a new medium.
And I was completely hooked.
Those freelance weddings slowly turned into more opportunities. Those opportunities eventually became a little flower truck. The flower truck became Tumbleweed Floral Design. And over the years, that small beginning has grown into a business that has taken me to some of the most beautiful places, introduced me to extraordinary people, and allowed me to create alongside some of the most talented teams in the industry.
But when I look back, none of that feels like the beginning.
The beginning was a little girl who loved making things.
A student who finally realized creativity wasn't a hobby— it was how she understood the world.
A visual merchandiser who learned that great design isn't about perfection. It's about connection.
Flowers simply became the language that brought all of those pieces together.
People often ask me how I found my way to flowers.
The truth is, I think I was always on my way.
I just hadn't realized what I was looking for yet.