[Photo by wirestock]
Finding My Inner “Mama Bear” in Business
Every so often, someone will ask me, “What’s your sign?”
When I reply with, “Which one?” they usually look a little confused.
Most people are familiar with astrology through Sun signs, but astrology is traditionally interpreted through multiple placements within a birth chart. Whether you view that seriously or simply as an interesting tool for reflection, I like the underlying idea that people can’t always be explained by a single label.
That idea reminds me of an HR onboarding session I attended several years ago. The facilitator explained that we all present different versions of ourselves depending on the situation. If you’re a parent, one part of you may come forward. With friends, another. At work, we bring a professional version of ourselves.
During that same onboarding, my direct supervisor took the stage and talked about finding your “True North.” I learned an incredible amount from him, and one piece of advice always stayed with me: find your niche within a niche.
At the time, I honestly didn’t think I had one.
Later in the session, the facilitator asked us to identify our primary professional persona. My answer came immediately: mothering.
I wasn’t thinking about mothering only in the traditional nurturing sense. I was thinking about protection, responsibility, and creating the conditions for something to succeed. To this day, I sometimes refer to that instinct as my inner Mama Bear.
If I’m responsible for a website, I feel responsible for protecting its integrity while helping it evolve. If I’m leading a project, I want the people involved to have what they need to succeed while keeping the work focused and protecting it from unnecessary complexity and scope creep.
For a long time, I thought of that simply as part of my personality.
Different Masks. Same Person.
Years later, as I learned more about astrology, I was reminded of that onboarding exercise.
I’m not suggesting a birth chart is a professional assessment tool. What interested me was the metaphor: astrology doesn’t try to describe a person through one characteristic alone. Different placements are traditionally associated with different aspects of personality and behavior.
The Sun is commonly associated with identity and self-expression. The Moon is associated with emotions and instinctive responses. The Rising sign, or Ascendant, is often associated with outward presentation. Mars is traditionally associated with action, drive, and initiative.
Suddenly, I was back in that onboarding session.
Different masks. Same person.
Curiosity and Connection
When I started thinking about my own chart through that lens, I recognized some interesting parallels.
My Sun sits right at the edge of Gemini, which feels fitting for someone whose career has crossed several disciplines. I started in dental, moved into fitness, transitioned into marketing, and eventually expanded further into digital strategy, web development, UX, and accessibility.
On paper, those paths can look unrelated. Looking back, though, I see a consistent thread: translation.
I’ve spent much of my career connecting things that don’t always speak the same language. Translating technical requirements into human experiences. Translating business goals into usable digital solutions. Translating complex information into something an audience can understand and act on.
Curiosity has allowed me to move between disciplines without losing that central thread.
Why I Value Structure
But curiosity alone doesn’t explain why I care so much about how things work.
In astrology, the Moon is traditionally associated with emotional instincts and security. Thinking about that symbolism led me to recognize something about myself that has very practical implications for my work:
I don’t value structure simply for structure’s sake. I value structure because good structure helps people succeed.
That’s one reason accessibility matters so much to me. It’s also why I notice friction in digital experiences and why I care about creating clear processes around complex work.
A well-designed structure can remove unnecessary barriers. Clear standards can make decisions easier. Thoughtful processes can reduce confusion. Accessibility can make information and experiences available to people who might otherwise be excluded.
I don’t build something simply because it needs to exist.
I think about the people who will depend on it once it does.
The Difference Between Looking Calm and Being Passive
Then there’s the Rising sign, traditionally associated with how we present ourselves and how others initially experience us.
People often describe me as calm, composed, organized, independent, and capable.
They’re not wrong. But being calm doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.
While I may appear composed on the outside, I’m often evaluating what could be clearer, more consistent, more accessible, or easier for someone to use.
I’ve come to think of that less as perfectionism and more as stewardship. If something has been entrusted to me, I want to leave it stronger than I found it.
Sometimes competence is simply care translated into action.
The Guardian of Execution
And then we get to Mars, the placement that started this whole thought process for me.
Astrologically, Mars is traditionally associated with action, drive, and initiative. Mine happens to be in Virgo.
As a metaphor for how I work, I find the description amusingly familiar: attention to detail, organization, analysis, improvement, and a tendency to notice when something isn’t quite aligned.
In business language, those qualities look much less mystical. They look like process improvement, documentation, quality assurance, systems thinking, governance, and disciplined execution.
For a long time, I wondered whether my attention to consistency was simply perfectionism.
I’ve come to see an important distinction.
Consistency isn’t valuable because everything needs to be perfect. It’s valuable when it protects quality, reduces friction, and helps people know what to expect.
The same is true of boundaries. Good boundaries don’t prevent creativity; they can create the conditions in which creativity can happen without losing sight of the objective.
That’s where my inner Mama Bear shows up professionally.
Not as control.
As stewardship.
Somewhere between that HR onboarding session, a birth chart, and years of professional experience, I finally found a phrase for my niche within a niche:
Guardian of execution.
It sounds a little dramatic.
But then again, so does Mama Bear.
Still Learning
As I approach my 48th birthday, I’m realizing that self-discovery doesn’t actually stop.
Even with decades of professional experience behind me, I’m still finding better language for qualities that have been present throughout my career.
The Mama Bear metaphor is playful, but the qualities behind it are serious: responsibility, curiosity, consistency, advocacy, and care for the people who ultimately depend on the work.
More and more, I’m realizing that my instinct to protect what I’ve been entrusted with isn’t something I need to outgrow.
It’s how I build.
And hey, if you think I look young…
It’s the yoga.