Hey there, Tracy Bullock here. How can I help?

Born in 1980 in Baltimore Maryland (aka B’More). Only child. Ballet zealot. Academic parents. Photo hog. Vain, eager to please, hungry for external validation.

Hometown Washington DC. Private school. Eclectic friends. Barbeques. Sesame Street. Snuck into Alien and was forever scarred. Adults told me I was too focused on others. Horseback riding. Jumprope. Billy Joel. Quincey Jones and more ballet.

High School Prom Queen. Early graduation. Dancer’s apartment at Lincoln Center. Julliard. ABT. My grandparents and dog died while I rehearsed the Nutcracker. The utopia of movement became a prison. A big City. A small pond. My first great quitting.

College Freshman a year and a half too late. Shakespeare as the new barre. Corsets and auditions. Negotiating with agents fronting an ego yet to be laced with maturity or context.  Voice lessons and TV pilots.

Another cage. More confusion and desire to get beyond the false intimacy, desperation of ego or my colleague. Competition as a glass ceiling. More quitting.

Retail jobs. Hostess and catering gigs. Again, at the bottom, but wiser. More a pilot rather than a novice.  Listening. Reading. I learned to ask ”How can I help?” and mean it.

A crime-quake hits on the heels of therapy and self-reconstruction. A double whammy of painful personal growth. Addiction and PTSD. I press charges. I got a dog. Brooklyn here I come!

Lovers. Broken hearts all in between before partnership lands - “ I do”.

What is it to be feminist? Birthwork is a nice foray … blood on shirt. I learn to not listen but HEAR. I became a curiosity master. Bravado has no place in delivery or aftercare - the new life of a community, family, person(s). Wait .. so THIS is facilitation? Support? Get out!

Back to “business” in a corporate suite in a circus of savvy professional compassion. Not yet 40 and already a COO doing … what?! … leading a team of people and health professionals in a company committed to women and education - families.

All is well and good - until it ends. We sell the farm. I start again - quitting times 3 ….. Oh boy!

What do I miss? My people. Stepping aside as they step up. Is that a job? It sure is! Coaching skool! Executive Education. HR training. A website. A dash of hustle and sprinkle of muscle, a mission, a message, a career.

By me. For you. Dreams delivered daily.