At seven years old, I was already selling things I found around the house to neighbors and friends. By nine, after getting my first iPad, I taught myself to build social media pages and capture attention online—not because I was thinking about “marketing,” but because creating felt natural. Entrepreneurship wasn’t something I discovered; it was something I had always done.
In March 2020, when sixth grade suddenly moved to my bedroom for what was supposed to be five weeks, I decided to build something real. I researched business ideas and launched an apparel brand inspired by beach culture and escape. What started as a lockdown project became **Coastal Cool**.
With a $500 loan from my parents—which I repaid within the first week—I designed and sold T-shirts, hoodies, and stickers. I built my first website at 20. No team, no investors, just persistence and a laptop. Over the next six years, that bedroom operation grew into a six-figure global brand. Our products have appeared on national television, shipped to customers worldwide, and supported a mission that removes one pound of ocean plastic with every purchase.
The journey took me places most teenagers never go. At 13, I was sitting in boardrooms negotiating with executives four times my age. While my peers focused on sports, parties, and typical high school milestones, I was balancing school with strategy sessions, supply chain problems, and growth decisions. I loved the work—the creation, the people, the constant problem-solving—but it also meant my childhood looked very different from everyone else’s.
That difference didn’t fully hit me until I started filling out college applications.
One Common App question stopped me cold: “What defines you?”
For years, my answer had been obvious—my company. I had poured my teenage years into building something meaningful from nothing. But as I sat with the question, I realized I was more than the business I had created. At 18, I had accomplished a lot, yet I had barely scratched the surface of who I could become. I had learned how to operate in the world I built, but I hadn’t yet been truly challenged by worlds and ideas outside it.
I’ve traveled and met inspiring people through my business, but there is still so much I haven’t experienced: different ways of thinking, new fields of knowledge, and perspectives that will stretch me. I want to learn not just how to build better businesses, but how to think more deeply about life, leadership, ethics, history, and the world around me.
College isn’t a requirement for me—it’s a deliberate choice. I already know how to create something from scratch. Now I want to learn how to think about *everything*.
I’m proud of what I built as a teenager. But I’m even more excited about who I’m still becoming.