This was my first home purchase, and like most first-time homeowners, I poured my heart into it. My mom gave me some art and a chandelier, and I made them the focal points of my space. My tiny bedroom had a king-sized bed (because why not?), framed by a wall of curtains from Target and a blue headboard I found on Amazon. That blue headboard was inspired by Becky Owens, a designer I was obsessed with at the time. It’s funny to think about now because I would never design a room like that today, but back then, I was so proud of it. I even took all my own photos and posted them online—just for fun. Little did I know, that was the beginning of something so much bigger.
That house also held my first-ever “office”—a tiny desk in the guest room where I spent endless nights working on design projects while still juggling a demanding full-time job in healthcare sales. I would stay up until 2 or 3 a.m., doing anything and everything for anyone who needed design help. I didn’t care how small the project was; I just wanted to be doing design. Looking at that little desk now makes me emotional because it represents the moment when my passion started to take over my life.
In those early days, I had no idea what I was doing. Case in point: I once posted on Instagram that people could order rugs from me at 20% off, thinking I was giving them a great deal. Turns out, 20% was my trade discount, meaning I was making absolutely no money—and actually losing money after factoring in shipping and sales tax. But at the time, I was just desperate to get my name out there. It was a tough lesson, but one that helped shape the way I run my business today.
I designed that house with so much love, even if my style (and knowledge) has evolved since then. I picked out a sectional from the premier furniture store in Charleston, thinking I was so fancy. It was a creamy beige with rolled arms—something I would never choose today! But back then, everything was white and coastal, and it resonated with people. That little house became my portfolio, and people started paying attention.
In 2018, I officially launched my business. And to make it happen, I sold that house—along with everything in it. I was terrified. What if this didn’t work out? Where would I go? I had no backup plan, so I decided to create one. I lived in Airbnbs, crashed with friends, and stayed in guest rooms while I figured things out. It was a weird, unsettling time. All my friends were settling down, having kids, and here I was, living out of a suitcase, trying to make this dream work. But as my dad told me, “Meg, you can always go get another job.”
Despite the uncertainty, I made incredible memories in that house. I threw the best dinner parties and holiday gatherings. One Christmas, I hired a Santa DJ from Craigslist—he showed up in a full Santa suit, no teeth, and a questionable past. But he was amazing. He played the best music, had a microphone, and suddenly my Christmas party turned into a karaoke night. He was such a hit that my friends started booking him for their own parties, and “Santa DJ” became an annual tradition.
That house was everything to me. It was my sanctuary, my creative playground, and the place where I unknowingly built the foundation for my career. If you had told me back then that I’d be where I am now, I never would have believed you. But sometimes, the best things come out of the most unexpected places.
And to this day, I’m still grateful for my little dollhouse.
