“The Prism Effect began long before the name — it began with how I learned to see.”

I grew up taking things apart — radios, toys, anything with screws — just to see how it worked. I spent my days outside, lost in imagination and movement, forming an early bond with nature and how it makes me feel. I was mischievous, restless, and full of ideas, but I didn’t yet know how to channel them. That untamed curiosity shaped the way I see the world — as something to explore, to question, and to eventually create from.

Structure didn’t confine me — it refined me. It gave my curiosity direction and taught me to see with intention. Serving in strategic and tactical environments around the world, I learned to bring analysis into imagination — to spot quiet patterns beneath chaos and act with clarity when everything was moving fast. Strength, I discovered, isn’t hardness — it’s steadiness under pressure.

After the military, I was drawn to systems again — only this time, they were digital. Technology became my new terrain. Working in world-class environments where precision and performance mattered, I learned how strategy, structure, and vision can move entire organizations forward. Yet somewhere beneath all that order, I began to sense something deeper — a pull to build, imagine, and connect in ways that reached people, not just processes. That realization marked a shift from order to expression — from seeing the system, to shaping it.

At some point, achievement stopped feeling like growth. I’d mastered structure but lost connection.

To rebuild, I returned to what first moved me — curiosity, creation, and imagination. Reconnection wasn’t instant. It took honesty, stillness, and the discipline to unlearn what no longer served me — to reforge a life that vibrates with meaning.

What began as a personal transformation became The Prism Effect — a space to help others rediscover their light, live from it, and create meaning and possibility in their own lives.