Move Over, Colonel Sanders — I’m Cooking Up Something Juicier at 53

 I waited for the perfect time.

The perfect mood.
The perfect setup.
The perfect support from family.

I waited two years, actually — plotting, stalling, watching from the sidelines.
Because this is the truth (my truth, as Markle would say): I thought I needed one more app to create something.
A little more confidence to finally open CapCut or Canva — which had both been occupying real estate on my phone like squatters.
Maybe one more “sign from the universe.”

Meanwhile, my definitely better half probably thought I was just binge-watching TikToks or the Property Brothers and hoarding like the Kardashians.

Spoiler alert: none of that perfect timing showed up.

What did show up?
Reality — and a wallet screaming “HELP ME” louder than my brain during tax season.

So I dove in anyway — praying to St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes (and apparently, creative chaos… and possibly of late-blooming creators everywhere).
And in less than three months, I built something I never thought I could — not because I was new to business, but because this digital world felt like trying to decode HTML with a rotary phone.

See, I’ve run businesses before. I know how to hustle — old-school, third-world, cash-in-hand style.
Make something. Sell something. Repeat.
But this? This was a whole new animal.
Canva, KDP, Etsy, Google Drive, SEO, ghosting algorithms — the internet felt like a video game with no tutorial and too many pop-ups.

But I didn’t stop.
I figured it out, step by terrifying step. And here’s what came out of it:

• I published four bilingual children’s books on Amazon.

• I created four grown-up coloring journal hybrids — sass-packed, snarky, and possibly the first of their kind.

• I’ve got a few digital goodies starting to pop up on Gumroad too — an ADHD planner (Taglish, of course) and some A–Z animal coloring chaos — small for now, but it’s a start.

• I built a blog (with wild ideas and even wilder IPs).

• I designed actual products in Canva.

• I uploaded 35 Etsy listings — even if Etsy’s still ghosting me like a bad date.

• I kind of learned how to use Google Drive.

• And I did it all at 53 years old, with two grandbabies cheering me on and a Wi-Fi signal that dropped harder than my self-esteem during Canva crashes.

Let me be real:
I didn’t buy any fancy online courses.
No $997 “Monetize Your Magic” webinars. No coaches. No community.
Just me, Google, coffee, and a bank account already speaking in tongues.

And my Wi-Fi? Held together by prayers and duct tape — thanks, “Ex-finity” (or whatever you’re calling yourself these days).
T-Mobile phone, though? Total off-grid 5G savior. The only reason I managed to upload anything without committing a crime.
Bless you, TMob. Sponsor me. Seriously.

Anyway — back to the point.

This isn’t me bragging, ha — promise. I’ve been stuck before too, waiting for the right time, the right setup, the right everything. But you know what? None of that ever showed up. You just start where you are — head-on collision style. Then get up, fix your hair, eyebrows on fleek, try again! And again!

I used to think I couldn’t do this. Not because I lacked ideas or energy, but because I didn’t speak the digital language.
But here’s what I learned:

You don’t need to know everything.
You don’t need to wait for the mood, the money, or the permission.
You just need to start — even if it’s ugly. Especially if it’s ugly.

And if it doesn’t go how you hoped?
You pivot. You rework. You rise again — smarter, scrappier, and a little more unbothered.

Because you’re not the same person you were when you started.
You’re stronger. Braver. Messier in the best way.
And you’re still here — still dreaming, still building, still pushing forward.

My mantra now?

Transform. Trust. Try again.

That’s how we grow.
That’s how we build businesses, books, blogs, and brands.
That’s how we survive the quiet days, the creative droughts, and the voice in our head that still whispers, “Who do you think you are?”

So move over, Colonel Sanders.
This might not be fried chicken, but I’m cooking up something juicier — and it’s got claws, captions, and coloring pages.

🖤Want to see what I’ve been cooking?

No fried chicken, but plenty of bite.
🛒 Browse the savage, snarky stuff I made  

From my former life of sharp comebacks and cheap microphones — the merch lives on.
🖤 Visit Chuckles & Dagger

🧃 Snag my ADHD planner + coloring chaos on Gumroad

XOXO,
Dory

💬 Got questions? Feeling stuck?
I’m no expert — just someone who face-planted her way through it and kept showing up.
If you're trying to figure it all out too, drop a comment or say hi.
I’ll help however I can — no courses, no sales pitch, just one scrappy creator to another.