I’ll start with a question:
If money didn’t exist, how would you spend your time?
What would you want to bring into this world?
What would light up your heart?
Hang on to that last question. Sit with whatever comes to mind as you read.
The vision for Maverick landed on my heart 14 years before she came into existence.
Everything about it made perfect sense to me: my lifelong love of music, the liberation I experienced through dance, and my passion for sharing those experiences with other people.
I envisioned myself learning the language of music through DJing—finding a new way to express my soul through sound and create the kinds of experiences that had always made me feel most alive.
I bought my first controller almost immediately.
And then it collected dust.
The timing never seemed right.
“It’s not realistic right now.”
“Next month, I’ll have more time.”
“Next year, I’ll make it a non-negotiable goal.”
“I just need to reach this next milestone in my business. Then I’ll have the space.”
There was always something more urgent. Something more practical. Something that appeared to deserve my attention before the thing I deeply wanted.
So I kept postponing it.
I spent 14 years carrying that dream on my heart, and with each passing year, it became more difficult to sit with the weight of my own untapped potential.
It wasn’t that I needed to play the biggest events or make the biggest name for myself.
I just wanted to play.
I wanted to learn.
I wanted to let my creative side expand beyond the roles and responsibilities that had come to define my life.
I wanted to have fun with my friends, bring my larger community together through dance, and create the transformative experiences I knew were possible through music.
Eventually, the pain of watching that part of me fade reached its final threshold.
During the holiday season of 2024, I decided: no more.
I didn’t care what was happening in my life or what milestone was coming next in my business. I was going to slow down, return to the present, and—perhaps for the first time in my adult life—prioritize what I wanted to create.
I refused to let another year pass while I continued wishing, waiting, and remaining exactly where I was.
As soon as I cleared space in my schedule to pour back into myself, more changed than I expected.
For one, I picked up the art of mixing quickly. It felt intuitive—almost as though my body understood something my mind was only beginning to learn.
But the greatest transformation wasn’t technical.
It was internal.
Every time I practised, my inner child lit up. I felt playful, absorbed, curious, and fully present. The more time I spent inside my creative essence, the more the most authentic parts of me began to shine again.
Parts of me were also beginning to heal.
My energy changed. My confidence expanded. I started feeling more like myself—not because I had achieved anything yet, but because I had finally stopped abandoning something that mattered deeply to me.
Maverick Creatrix was not born the day I played my first set.
She was born the moment I stopped waiting for permission.
She emerged when I chose to honour the vision that had been following me for 14 years—before I knew where it would lead, before I felt completely ready, and before there was any guarantee that it would become something more.
What began with a dusty controller became a portal back to my own aliveness.
Today, Maverick is the meeting place of everything that has always moved through me: music, dance, liberation, expression, connection, and transformation.
She is proof that the dreams we postpone do not always disappear.
Sometimes, they wait.
And perhaps the vision that keeps returning to you is not asking for a perfect plan.
Perhaps it is simply asking you to begin.
and if you takeaway anything..
- The right time may never announce itself. Sometimes, space appears only after we decide that our creativity deserves a place in our lives.
- A dream doesn’t have to become an empire to be worthwhile. Wanting to learn, play, express, and feel alive is reason enough to begin.
- What you continually postpone can become a form of self-abandonment. Paying attention to that ache may reveal a part of you asking to be reclaimed.
- You don’t need certainty before taking the first step. Maverick began when I honoured the impulse, not when I knew exactly where it would lead.
