Well, this was unexpected.
Your purpose isn't the 'thing' you do. It's the thing that happens in others when you do what you do.
Dr. Caroline Leaf
How it started.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve understood the power of women. Growing up a farmer’s daughter surrounded by strong-willed, capable women, I was raised to believe I could do anything the boys could do. Whether it was clipping my own cattle, stepping in on my cousin’s baseball team, or working as the summer farmhand, I was blessed with empowerment, opportunity, and a community that always pushed me forward.
But as I’ve stepped into adulthood, I find myself always coming back to these internal embers that have yet to distinguish. Embers of inequities and imbalances women are facing globally. Embers that have been quietly crackling in the background, motivating, inspiring, and fueling my passion. These embers were fanned into flames when it became clear that not every girl or woman in our community grew up with that same support. Not every woman has been told she is capable. Not every girl has a family behind her, cheering her on. Not every woman has had access to mentorship, confidence, resources — or even the basic items she needs to feel human.
Over the last few years, I’ve felt my heart break open for the inequities women face — globally, yes, but especially right here in our own Nebraska communities. One of the prayers I’ve prayed for years is, “Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours.” And recently, He did exactly that.
Originally, I thought I would step in through professional development. I began reaching out to organizations in Omaha and Lincoln asking if they needed help with resume workshops, interview prep, or donations of professional clothing. I imagined helping women prepare for job interviews, build confidence in the workplace, and step into new opportunities.
But what I heard was not what I was expecting.
The need wasn’t blazers and business heels.
It was shampoo.
It was body wash.
It was deodorant.
It was skincare.
The women and girls these organizations served weren’t thinking about professional development — they were thinking about how they were going to wash their hair. How they could keep themselves clean. How they could feel beautiful, dignified, and confident in their own skin.
Before we can empower a woman in the workplace, we have to meet her basic needs. There are layers of dignity that must come first.
After hearing the same answer from every organization I contacted, it became painfully simple: why can’t I help provide the very items I unknowingly use every single day? The products I buy weekly or monthly without a second thought are luxuries to many women right here in our own communities.
So I started asking questions. I dove deeper into research. I continued reaching out to organizations serving girls and women in need — including Girls Inc. of Omaha, the WCA, and The Hope Center for Kids.
And across every conversation, no matter the age range or circumstances of the women they served, one theme came up over and over again:
Women and girls are struggling to access the most basic items that help them feel dignified, clean, and confident — the things uniquely needed because we’re women.
That’s when the idea for The Beauty Box Project came to life — not because I had some master plan, but because the need was undeniable. And what happened next was something I never could have orchestrated on my own: our community showed up. Hundreds of people. Over 1,300 products donated. Generosity that still humbles me.
What started as a simple question became a movement of kindness.
