Part 1 of 2: Don’t tell me what to do

After living my entire life within Wisconsin, I met Sean in 2010 and moved west after 4 months dating long distance. Soon after my arrival in Utah, I was on the hunt for a job.


I’d left what I thought was my dream job: The style editor at a regional women’s magazine. I had a lot of energy, some great communications skills, and a desire to make an impact.


The marketing job I found was great at first glance... but within a month, I knew it was never going to last.

This is an old (low resolution) photo in front of my office after getting the job. Naively stoked about being the Assistant Director of Communications and Marketing!

My boss gave unreasonable criticism of my ideas, she chastised the way I decorated my office, and yelled at me when I made mistakes. As a gal recently plucked from her "midwest nice" roots, it was all too much. I learned the company was the sort of place you put your head down, do mediocre work, and get a paycheck.


I could have suffered through... but that’s not my style.


With Sean’s support, I quit the gig and start tutoring students at a college prep boarding school. I made my own schedule, sent my own invoices, and loved working with high schoolers. 


I’d spend my off-hours working on a new project called Riding On Insulin. Sean and I would host ski/snowboard camps for kids with type 1 diabetes and we offered our first sold out program in Park City, Utah in December 2010 — and that day, I knew I was on the precipice of something big. I wasn’t going to be a tutor forever, and this new venture would ensure I’d be making an impact in the world every single day for kids with type 1 diabetes. 


I distinctly remember telling a friend that I wanted to make Riding On Insulin an official nonprofit and get to the point where the organization could pay me to work full time.


“You know that’ll never work, right?”


Their response will stick with me to the end of my days. 

Within 2 years, I brought on a board of directors of 8+ individuals from around the country, made the necessary connections to raise the money for our anticipated annual budget, and was officially hired to run Riding On Insulin as the Executive Director(!).


I hired an employee, followed by a few more years later, and we secured the best health insurance for our team. I served in that role for 7 years, and still serve as the Director of Operations today. 


Since Riding On Insulin’s inception, I’ve raised over $5.3 million to support these action sports camps for kids, teens, and adults with T1D, and the organization has served nearly 5,000 individuals around the world.


It’s amazing what’s possible when we put our minds to something, isn’t it? Even if those around us think we’re crazy.


The circumstances as a woman in today’s world seem to be improving, but the cultural expectations surrounding ambition, career and what we “should” or “shouldn’t do” still bind us — if we let them.


The wildness inside of each of us has been itching to burst out and make itself known for millennia.


In the Tantric lineages of yoga (such as the Kriya yoga I teach), this wildness of the feminine is the entire premise of the Dasha Maha Vidyas, the 10 Great Wisdom Goddesses who reflect both the light and shadow within each of us. 
I’m going to tell you their origin story that really resonates with me, and my personal experience... 


Stay tuned, and I'll see you in your inbox tomorrow for Part 2!


In light,
Mollie