The Return of Ladies in Training

Wow. It’s been 14 years since I started Ladies in Training. Four years since I decided to revamp it. Two years since I walked away—not just from the organization, but from the belief that I could truly change the landscape for young girls who look like me. Girls who dream of escaping systems that hold them back. Girls who want more—more joy, more education, more access to the resources that build their future.

When I gave up on myself, it had nothing to do with Ladies in Training. It had everything to do with me.

Through LIT, I had the privilege of mentoring and coaching over 400 young ladies, ages 4 to 18. Two hundred of them graduated from our etiquette program. We built partnerships with school districts, churches, and community organizations. I remember sitting in incubators with incredible women, all launching their own missions. Today, many of them lead fully staffed, well-funded, thriving organizations. And I couldn’t be prouder of them.

Someone once asked if I was jealous that I didn’t see it through. My answer was simple: I wasn’t ready. The wait is not punishment.

I see that now. As a certified visionary (shoutout to the W.K. Kellogg Foundation for giving me the space to own my brilliance), the weight of the idea became overwhelming. I was drained—not because the work wasn’t meaningful, but because I wasn’t yet the person I aspired to be. Then, the pandemic happened. Life happened. And everything changed.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that vulnerability is my superpower. As the kids say, life be lifeing—and it really did for me. I went through a pruning season. I had to let go—of relationships, of expectations, of the version of myself that no longer served me. I had to choose Jasmin before I could choose anyone else. It’s like they say on airplanes: Secure your own oxygen mask before helping others.

And yes, Ladies in Training is a business. But this letter? This is personal. Because shaping the future for young women is embedded in my soul.

We are coming back. In ways I don’t even fully know yet.

But I owe this letter to every young lady who may have felt like I gave up on them. To the little girl in me with big dreams. To every mother and father who trusted me with their daughters.

I’m not asking for forgiveness—just grace.

Because you, too, are worthy. Worthy of taking a break. Worthy of choosing yourself.

Confidence isn’t arrogance. Confidence is knowing you deserve.

So many of us have been taught to dim our light so others can shine. I spent years believing that if I illuminated others, they’d do the same for me. But that’s not always how it works. Through trial and (many) errors, I’ve finally made it to the other side.

I had to rebuild myself from the ground up. I had to learn to love Jasmin—not because others love me, but because I love me.

And for that, I’m grateful.