The Audacity to Dream: Reflections on Bold Moves

How a single moment of courage can transform your life—and how to take your next bold step.

The first time I arrived in Paris, I was exhausted and thrilled. I had just finished a conference in Portugal and planned one day—just one—in the city I had always dreamed of visiting. I didn’t speak French. I was afraid to order food and accept that I didn’t belong there. Instead, I lived off Toblerone, Coke, and sheer audacity. But I had a balcony room and a view of the Eiffel Tower, which somehow made it all worth it.

Paris hotel room, 2017; a view of the Eiffel Tower and balcony outside my room.

But walking along the Seine, I felt something unexpected. It wasn’t just awe or excitement—it was familiarity. It felt like coming home after a long time away—different yet deeply comforting, like a hug I didn’t know I needed. The years of struggle following a painful divorce and time spent alone had caught up to me.

By my 2017 visit to Paris, I had been a single mother and a full-time university student in a male-dominated field for nearly four years. In that time, I’d earned recognitions through honor societies, graduated summa cum laude in philosophy, and started my nonprofit, but none of it was for show. It was survival. It was a woman fighting to build something in a world that often felt inhospitable to her. Looking back, no one should have to push that hard to prove to themselves and the world their worth. What looked like success from the outside was really a woman running for her life, or maybe from it.

Today, I’m back in Paris. In the same hotel, but in a different room, and eight years later. This time, I’m not running on fear, urgency, or needing to prove myself. I’m still busy—probably busier—but the survival instinct has quieted. The lessons remain, but now they’re here to serve a different purpose in service to others.

Paris hotel room view, 2025, of the Eiffel Tower from the balcony.

Instead of looking at the Eiffel Tower while grading papers, I’m watching it while editing my book. Instead of standing alone on the balcony, my husband is standing beside me. The urgency has softened. The joy hasn’t.

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AI Ethics in Action: Becoming a Writer Without Planning To

The book I’m writing and editing—AI Ethics in Action—feels like a natural continuation of everything I’ve done. I never thought I’d be a writer. I hoped I’d be one. I even joked with my grad director once that I’d write a book. He laughed. I laughed. We’d both seen my grad school writing. But the thought stayed with me.

That conversation happened just before my first trip to Paris. And now, years later, I got to tell him about the book in person—along with the comment that he should feel relieved because I have editors now. Plural. Ha! He was the most demanding professor I had when it came to writing. I was also fortunate to share this news with the professor who instilled a love of ethics in me. She is still a powerhouse, fellow philosopher, and erstwhile colleague and friend.

Writing a book is hard. Writing about AI ethics—translating deep philosophical questions into something practical, something with real-world KPIs and ROI—is a whole new level of hard. Right now, I’m working through AI ethics on the global stage and who we are responsible for. I’m developing case studies to engage readers with real-world scenarios and the challenges of doing ethics. This book has to be practical because ethics, for all its theoretical depth, means nothing if it isn’t applied.

Recently, I’ve been thinking that people aren’t born writers. I think they become writers when their thoughts outgrow the space inside their minds.
What do you think?

What’s Your Audacity?

The first time I came to Paris, I was living off chocolate and impulse, unsure if I belonged in the spaces I was carving out for myself. Now, I’m here with a book contract, speaking invitations, recognition on four continents, and a life that still surprises me.

Not because I had a master plan. But because I kept moving forward with whatever audacity I could find.

So now, I’m asking you:

What’s the thing you can’t stop thinking about but haven’t dared to pursue? The dream that feels just out of reach? The idea that keeps resurfacing, waiting for you to say yes?

Consider this your sign. Your permission slip. Your Toblerone-and-audacity moment.

What’s your next bold move? Sometimes, all it takes is a moment of audacity to change everything. Let’s talk about the dreams we’re chasing—and how we can take that first step together.