The Origin Story of the Slaying Ordinary Movement

After 20 years in HR—spanning multiple industries, organizations, and leadership roles—I saw the same pattern play out again and again.

Inclusion became a poster on a wall.

A line in a strategy doc.

A checkbox at the end of a hiring form.

And all the while, real people—high performers, brilliant misfits, masked strugglers—were burning out, opting out, or quietly disappearing inside systems that were never built for them.

I was one of those people.

Diagnosed as neurodivergent later in life, I looked back and realized:

The systems I spent my entire career building and defending were quietly eroding people like me. Not because anyone meant harm, but because the structure itself only served those who fit “the mold.”

It rewarded polish over clarity.

Charm over truth.

Resilience over rest.

Performance over humanity.

By the time I had my daughter, everything cracked open. The scaffolding that had kept me functioning—external support, learned scripts, survival habits—collapsed. I could no longer hide what I couldn’t manage. My dysfunctions weren’t new. They had just been deeply masked.

And in that unraveling, I saw what most systems couldn’t:

We don’t need more wellness webinars.

We don’t need to keep asking people to advocate harder, disclose earlier, or perform better.

We need to stop trying to fix people, and start fixing the systems we’ve built to exclude them.

That’s why I created Slaying Ordinary.

Not as a brand.

As a rebellion.

It’s a platform to tell the truth about how our people systems actually operate—and to arm people leaders with the tools to finally lead differently.

No more empty DEI language.

No more trauma disguised as professionalism.

No more “bring your whole self to work” campaigns that only apply to the socially acceptable parts.

Slaying Ordinary exists to uncover what’s broken—and help leaders rebuild work in ways that actually work.

Not just for some.

For all of us.