I met my husband when I was 23 at Coyote Ugly in New York City and, very long story short, married him two years later. He’s in the Marine Corps, which means we’ve moved around a lot, from Japan to Georgia to North Carolina to Virginia to California and back to Virginia, collecting experiences and reinventing life with each new zip code. We’ve been together for nearly 15 years now, and while military life isn’t exactly “stable,” we’ve made it work, even when that meant celebrating birthdays and anniversaries oceans apart.
It was in Japan, unable to find steady work, that I picked up a camera and started blogging about our travels. I launched a little business called Crafts and Carafes, where I taught simple DIY projects over wine (the original creative networking, honestly). I also served as president of the North Island Officers' Spouses Club, which taught me a lot about leadership, community, and logistics when things go sideways.
Photography became a real business when we returned stateside and I had our first daughter. I threw myself into wedding photography and, in true Kassie fashion, decided to host styled shoots for fun… which grew into full-blown mock wedding with over 100 photographers showing up. It was wild. And joyful. And exhausting. And also where I learned that I love curating space, literal and emotional, for women to create, connect, and grow.
We had our second daughter in 2020, during the pandemic. Like many moms, I balanced babies with reinventing an online business, often with one on my hip and the other playing ponies beside me while I edited masked-faced galleries or mailed "Style by Trial" boxes, the subscription box that kept income flowing during lockdown. It wasn’t always graceful, but it was real.
Then came 2023. We had just moved to Virginia. I hurt my back helping move a washer and dryer (which I now consider the final straw), and while I was in the ER, I casually mentioned some abdominal pain I’d been having — pain that had been brushed off for years as ovarian cysts. Eight hours later, I was being told to call an oncologist immediately. What followed was a whirlwind of scans, surgery, and a diagnosis: Low Grade Serous Ovarian Cancer.
It was during that season, when I was supposed to be promoting the very first ESC Conference alongside my cofounder, Ali, that I was instead navigating survival. Not figuratively. Literally.
I'm stable now. But the truth is, I worry every day. About my health, my girls, my time here. So I hold them close and love them harder. Because the real “end game” isn’t just building a business. It’s being here long enough to watch them grow up and making sure they remember me as someone who showed up with both grit and grace.