I always knew I would do this...

I stayed with it. This is what it looks like when it starts to happen...WITHOUT imposter syndrome.

This past week was one of the best weeks I’ve ever had. And I was doing nothing but working. I was in the factory, with my hands on everything. Fully in it.

Right now, I’m slammed. But it’s the kind of busy I’ve always dreamed of. My hands are on EVERY part of this brand. I’ve shared the bts in real time on Instagram this week. But ICYMI, what I did was design, produce, and perfect eight new styles in one week. Forty-eight hours spent in the factory with Francisco. Sourcing fabric. Fitting. Correcting. Adjusting. Reworking. Finalizing every single detail.

Then I shot all eight pieces in a two-hour photoshoot, prepared for the next drop, shipped out orders from the last one, and reset the store for what’s about to come. It’s been nonstop. But it feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.

For the first time, I felt that real fulfillment hit. I felt something I hadn’t felt in years. Something that I haven’t felt without impostor syndrome. Full-body gratitude that I didn’t settle. That I’m not in a relationship just to be in one. That I haven’t had a child yet. That I’ve waited. That I’ve stayed with myself long enough to build this.

Because what I’ve really been searching for was never just love or a relationship or stability. I’ve been searching for fulfillment. And this is it.

When I was a senior in my Waldorf High School, we had to do a final senior project. I taught myself to sew. I hand-made a dress on a sewing machine. I’ve always known this was my dream. I’ve always known I would build a clothing company.

But for years, I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t unfolding with ease. Without distortion.

Since moving to LA eleven years ago, I’ve had to go through everything. Business failures. Financial pressure. Partnerships collapsing. Personal betrayal. Losing friends. Legal setbacks. I would watch other people build their brands, scale their companies, and succeed. And I knew, deep down, I was capable of something more. I knew my quality was better. I knew my eye was sharper. I knew I had something real. But I wasn’t there yet. And that gap almost broke me.

When I left for Austin a two years ago, it wasn’t because I wanted to leave LA. I was running. I was in survival mode. My closest friendship was falling apart. My family was breaking apart. My mental health was slipping. I thought I needed a reset. And I did. But the reset wasn’t a location. It was a full shedding.

I did the healing there. I let myself feel everything. And I came back to LA knowing exactly what I was returning for. I came back for BRÛLÉ. When I did, I cleared it all. The finances. The legal foundation. The noise.

Even the Real Controversial project was never really about politics. It was about reclaiming my power. People always said I was controversial. People talked about me for years. The trolls, the Reddit threads, the gossip boards. It used to feel so heavy. Real Controversial was my line in the sand. My way of saying, yes. I am who I am. You can talk, but you’re not stopping me.

What’s wild is that once I owned it, it all neutralized. The noise stopped. The trolls faded. There’s nothing left to pick apart when you own all of it.

And if I hadn’t done Real Controversial, I never would have launched the Gone Rogue hat. If I hadn’t launched Gone Rogue hat, I never would have met Francisco. The man who made the Gone Rogue hat introduced me to Francisco…And this past week, sitting next to F in the factory for hours, working through every stitch, every button, every fabric order, I kept thinking, this is it. This is exactly what I always pictured but didn’t know how to reach.

There’s no imposter syndrome anymore. I don’t wake up in a panic about how I’m going to make a career. I’m not spinning. I’m working. I’m building. I’m fully in it. And it’s mine.

I’ve made recent shifts where I only say yes to work that brings income, and only income that feels aligned (so only brule lol). I have to stay focused. Anything that is a distraction from BRÛLÉ is a no. I worked until midnight last night packing orders. On a Friday. But it doesn’t feel like work. It feels like ownership.

Because for years, every time I was pulled back into wellness, or food, or body fwrd, it was always someone telling me, “why don’t you just do what makes easy money”And I would listen. Because it was easier in the short term. But it always pulled me away from the real dream.

I love wellness. I love how food, discipline, movement, and care shape your life. But I love it for me. And it’s part of the BRÛLÉ lifestyle. It lives inside this world. It informs how I build this world. But it was never meant to be my entire world.

BRÛLÉ was always the center.

Is it a gamble to grow a product line that has overhead on your own? Yup. Right now I don’t travel or spend ANY money on anything personal (unless it’s my Organic food or my workout classes)…but all of this can change fast if I stay focused. I can’t wait until I can (and WILL) walk into Range Rover and buy myself a new car in cash. Watch. I am serious. Anything is possible when you are focused. I promise you that…

This week I woke up inside a new chapter.

One where consistency changes everything. One where I’m starting to see wholesale opportunities come to life. One where I’m physically in a factory every day. One where I finally feel what it means to have my calling. Not just chase it.

It’s changed my perspective on everything. Even dating. Even motherhood.

I’ve always wanted to be a mom. But I am so deeply grateful that I didn’t have a child before this part of my life was in place. I needed to know what it felt like to have my own work. My own fulfillment. My own build.

I like being a boss. I want to be wildly successful. I want to expand this brand into stores across the world. And I know I will.

Because I stayed with it. And now it’s happening. I’ve always known I would do this. I just had to become the version of me who could. There were so many times over the past ten years filled with doubt and worry that it would never lock in for me. But it has.

I wish someone would have told me back then that it was possible for it to change. So I am telling you now. Hold the line. Focus. It gets better. Also, thank God I am almost 30. The twenties are gnarly.

See you tomorrow for The Sunday Paper.

X,

KB