Your work was supposed to matter. It does. And the industry is taking it out of your body — your sleep, your health, your judgment, your capacity to give a damn. You're delivering. It's costing you too much.
It doesn't have to. There's a version of this where you keep the work, keep the mission, and get yourself back — whole, regulated, clear, with thirteen women who'll make sure you stay that way.
The wish. Healthcare gets better when the women building it stop paying for it with their health. A generation of leaders who are whole — regulated, resourced, honest about what it costs — and who change the industry from inside it instead of burning out and leaving.
The purpose. What if you could have thirteen women in your industry — confidants, mentors, allies — who know your work and your life, and who'll be there long after the program ends? Not a network you work. A council you belong to. That's what this is for.
Who, specifically. Founders and CEOs. VPs and C-suite operators. Women who run a P&L, a function, or a company in health tech — payer, provider, digital health, pharma, services. Usually a decade or more in, senior enough that there's nobody above her to ask, and still in the seat.
The situation she's in. She's good at this. Her results say so. And somewhere in the last few years it started costing her — sleep, health, patience, the sense that the work still means what it used to. She's tried fixing it the way she fixes everything, and it hasn't worked, and she's started to wonder if the problem is her.
She helps other women when there's nothing in it for her. She comes to be useful to the room, not only to be held by it. She's impressive, and she's honest about what it took.
We don't do IG-friendly feminism here. Grievances get their real names. And then we get to what you're going to do next.
General executive networks can't go deep, because nobody in the room shares your context. Here, everyone already knows what a TPA is.
Nobody needs the eighteen-month sales cycle explained. Nobody thinks you're exaggerating about procurement. You start where the problem is.
The same buyers, the same board dynamics, the same pilot that died in legal. Advice from inside your world is worth more than advice about it.
They can hire you, refer you, buy from you, sit on your board. They know where the good rooms are — which organizations treat people well, which founders are worth backing — and they'll tell you honestly about the ones that don't, before you sign.
Trying to make people well inside a system that is making you unwell. That the work is genuinely meaningful is what makes it so hard to admit what it's costing. Everyone here already knows that.
Who isn't: there are thirteen seats and an empty one costs everybody, so this isn't the right year if you can't hold the dates, or if you're joining to work the room for leads. Everything else — let's talk about it.
You wouldn't survive the mountain without the fortification first. Who you are, what you actually need, what you're worth — which was never conditional, whatever you've been told.
The part where you're asking why the hell you did this. The people who won't change, the systems built without you in mind, and how you stay whole inside them.
What you can see from up here. What's next, built on solid ground instead of fumes.
With twelve other women who become your peers, your confidants, your muses and your loudest advocates — and a coach making sure every session sends you home with something that keeps working long after the thirteenth moon.
About the moons. Sessions run every 28 days. The moon runs on 29.5, so it slips back a little each time — dark by the fifth and sixth, filling again through the rest of the year. Beside each session below is the moon that will actually be in the sky that night. Nothing more than that, unless you want it to be.
Not a network. Not a mastermind. Not therapy.
Apply for a seatI'm a fractional Chief Revenue Officer, an executive coach, and a board-certified holistic health coach. I build revenue engines for early- and growth-stage health tech companies and sell alongside them.
Twenty years in this industry before that. Enterprise sales at UnitedHealthcare. Palantir, where I doubled the revenue on our enterprise contract. Head of payer strategy and growth at Bamboo Health, where I closed the largest payer deal in the company's history. Sales and account management at pulseData. Chief Growth Officer at Epicured, where I took the business from $500K to $10M and built a clinician referral network from thirty people to over ten thousand. Along the way I helped deploy the world's first AI-backed kidney disease program.
I came to healthcare because of my family. I come from people the system never really reached, and that need hasn't gone away.
And here's what I got wrong for twenty years. I believed I could fix a bad situation with the right tactics — better communication, more preparation, a smarter read on the room. I was good at my job and I thought that meant I could out-strategize a person who was never going to change.
What I know now is that most of who people are is intractable. The work isn't changing them. It's building a foundation so solid that what they do stops costing you your health.
I got there eventually. I got there by leaving, and by leaving late. And I am sick of watching my colleagues and friends go through the same thing — the same slow depletion, the same certainty that it's them. This is the room I needed then.
When I'm not doing this, I'm traveling somewhere epic — I've been a full-time nomad for years. I garden well and knit badly. I lift heavy and eat a lot of plants. I hike, I ski, I keep a meditation practice with roots in Zen temple training, and I'm Reiki attuned. I played clarinet and sax through college and I fully intend to get them back.
Thirteen women. Twelve peers and a coach — who know your work and your life, who've heard the thing you don't say at the office, and who you can lean on for years. This is the thing, and it's the part no curriculum can promise, because it only happens in a room.
And what you built. Rules for making hard decisions, written in January and rewritten in December by someone who's changed. The ability to draw a boundary and hold it, and to ask for what you actually want. A regulated nervous system, and real space made for your body. Knowing exactly what it would take to walk away from something bad — and whether you're there yet. Practical tools from a clinician, from your peers, and from me. And a working knowledge of how this industry really runs that you didn't have in January.
What doesn't end. The channel stays open. The introductions keep happening. The program is thirteen moons. The council isn't.
What it's costing you already. Another year making decisions from exhaustion. The role you stayed in eighteen months too long because leaving felt impossible. The raise you didn't ask for. The friendship that thinned out while you were underwater. The doctor's appointment you keep moving. The version of you your kids get at 19:00.
You're not deciding whether to spend $5,200. You're deciding whether to keep spending what you're spending now.
| When | Every 28 days, Thursdays, 1–3pm ET |
| First moon | 14 January 2027 |
| Thirteenth | 16 December 2027 |
| Attendance | 11 of 13, cameras on |
| In between | One ask, one offer, answer two |
| Included | A private hour with me before the first moon — every member, same offer |
| Investment | $5,200 in full at signing — or $1,050 at signing and three payments through April. Most members expense it. |
How this is different. Chief is a credential and a network. WBL is a healthcare network with a Summit and a board program — and you might well be in it. Vistage works on your company. All good at what they do. None of them work on you — your worth, your body, the people who won't change, what you're carrying. That's the difference, and it's why this is twenty-six hours in one room instead of nine.
| Ascend Health Council | Chief | WBL | Vistage | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Price | $5,200 | $5,900 | $645 | ~$16,500 |
| For | Women running things in health tech | VP+ women, any industry | VP+ women, healthcare | CEOs, $5M+ revenue |
| Size | 13 | Groups of 8–12 | Network of 1,500+ | Groups of 12–16 |
| Format | 13 × 2 hrs | 6 × 90 min | Summit + 90 events/yr | 11 full days + 1:1s |
| Hours in one room | 26 | 9 | — | ~99 |
| Facilitated by | Jaime | Coach | — | Trained Chair |
| Curriculum | 13 moons | 6 pillars | — | — |
| Works on | You | Leadership | Network, board seats | Your company |
| Wait | None | 1–2 years | Nomination | Qualification |
$650 of your fee funds a pool, collected at signing so it's full before the first moon. Each moon, $650 goes to one woman. The order is drawn by lot. Everyone receives exactly once.
Most of us are great at earning and terrible at receiving. So once in thirteen months, on a month that's yours, $650 comes to you from the other twelve. It's practice. It's also money for your own care that you might never have allocated otherwise.
A tanda in Mexico. A susu in West Africa. A gye in Korea. It's part of an ancient, global tradition among women — and it's deliberately borrowed.
No, and I'm not a therapist. I'm an operator, an executive coach, and a board-certified holistic health coach — and this is coaching and peer council. We go to real places — health, loss, difficult people. If something needs more than this room can give, I'll say so and help you find it.
Yes. Thirteen dates, published before you sign, blocked like a board meeting. It's professional development, and most members expense it.
The room only works because everyone's in it. Moon 1 is your only exit — within 72 hours of the first session, full refund, no hard feelings. After that, you're in.
Possibly one is. Don't share your roadmap; do share your life. Most of what we talk about isn't proprietary — it's the part nobody has words for.
No. Never. Notes on asks and offers go out afterward; nothing else leaves.
Apply and let me decide. I read every one myself.
Six questions, about fifteen minutes. Then a real conversation with me — you'll have questions too, and you should. Then a yes or a no within 48 hours, either way.