Five Years Ago, I Wrote an 18-Month Plan. Here's What Happened.
From Surviving to Becoming: Five Years of Starting Over, Finding Myself, and Creating a Life on Purpose
It Started Over Fourth of July Weekend
Five years ago, over Fourth of July weekend in 2021, I was sitting at home working on a business that would eventually evolve into what you know today as Openly Curated.
Back then, it was called APx Branding & Design.
I was also in one of the messiest chapters of my life.
I just wasn't talking about it.
Everyone had plans for the holiday weekend. I was supposed to go to a party at my mom's house, but instead, she kept my daughters, and I stayed home.
And I worked.
Not because I had to.
Because I was completely consumed by the idea of creating a different future.
I spent that weekend designing, brainstorming, planning, and imagining possibilities that felt so much bigger than the life I was living.
Somewhere between all the ideas and late-night creativity, I sat down and wrote an 18-month plan.
July 2021 to December 2022.
I wrote about where I wanted to live, how much money I wanted to save, the businesses I wanted to build, and the kind of mother and woman I wanted to become.
And honestly?
I had absolutely no idea how I was going to make most of it happen.
But I wrote it anyway.
I recently came across that plan again.
And reading it five years later was a pretty surreal experience.
Because while my life looks nothing like the version I originally imagined, some of the things I wrote down actually happened.
Others took longer.
Some haven't happened yet.
And a few of my dreams have changed entirely.
But before I share that original plan, I think it's important to talk about everything that happened between then and now.
Because those five years?
They were a whole fucking journey.
Five Years in Fast Forward
Let's rewind.
After ending my engagement, I left a six-bedroom farmhouse in the country and moved into what I jokingly called my bachelorette pad.
In reality, it was a newly remodeled three-bedroom apartment in one of the roughest parts of town.
The neighborhood had a terrible reputation.
And looking back, there were plenty of reasons to be concerned about living there.
But somehow, that apartment remains one of my favorite places I've ever called home.
Not because of the neighborhood.
Not because of the apartment itself.
But because of what it represented.
Freedom.
Independence.
A fresh start.
For the first time in a long time, I was figuring out who I was outside the life I'd previously built.
I was pouring my energy into my personal brand, Aspiring Ari, and The Petti Podcast.
I had business ideas.
Creative projects.
Goals.
And what probably looked like an endless amount of motivation.
But behind the scenes?
I was struggling more than anyone realized.
Mentally, I was hanging on by a thread.
And while I was busy imagining a better future, my present circumstances were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
The Summer That Changed Everything
Then came the summer of 2021.
Within a matter of weeks, I experienced two situations that completely changed the way I looked at my environment.
There was a shootout outside my apartment involving 113 rounds of gunfire.
And not long afterward, my children's school bus was caught in a drive-by shooting.
I can't adequately explain what those experiences did to me.
There's something incredibly unsettling about realizing that the place you're raising your children doesn't feel safe.
Especially when you're already questioning whether the life you're living is the one you want for your family.
Those incidents became a wake-up call.
I didn't want my daughters growing up believing that the environment we were surrounded by was all there was.
I wanted them to experience more.
Different places.
Different opportunities.
A different way of life.
And I wanted those things for myself, too.
I had spent so much time imagining what our future could look like.
Suddenly, the idea of staying where we were felt harder to accept than the uncertainty of leaving.
So I started making decisions.
Big ones.
Betting on Myself Before I Felt Ready
In September 2021, I quit my job.
I decided to bet on myself and pursue entrepreneurship full-time.
Looking back, I can understand why that decision might have seemed impulsive.
And maybe parts of it were.
But at the time, I felt an overwhelming need to change the direction of my life.
I didn't have everything figured out.
I didn't have some perfect business model that guaranteed financial security.
And I certainly didn't know what the next several years were going to look like.
I just knew I couldn't keep doing what I'd been doing.
Then, in December, life surprised me again.
I welcomed two additional children into my home, including my little brother, whom I hadn't seen in thirteen years.
That's an entire story of its own.
But practically overnight, I found myself responsible for a family of five.
And I was supporting us entirely through my own business income.
Long before I felt financially prepared to do so.
Talk about learning as you go.
I had wanted freedom.
I had wanted entrepreneurship.
I had wanted the ability to create my own opportunities.
And suddenly, I was experiencing all of that while carrying more responsibility than I'd anticipated.
It was exciting.
Terrifying.
Overwhelming.
And a whole lot harder than the version I'd imagined while writing business plans.
But I kept going.
Leaving Everything Familiar Behind
Eventually, I made another enormous decision.
I packed up our lives and moved to Tampa, Florida.
That chapter didn't last particularly long.
Our journey eventually led us to Wilmington, North Carolina.
And somewhere along the way, my little brother went in his own direction.
Suddenly, it was just me and my two daughters again.
Thirteen hours away from everything familiar.
I had finally done something I'd dreamed about for years.
I'd left my hometown.
I'd moved to the coast.
I'd created an entirely different environment for my children.
And in so many ways, it was everything I'd wanted.
But here's what I didn't fully understand at the time.
Changing your environment can change your opportunities. It doesn't automatically change what's happening inside you.
I had moved away from the people, places, and circumstances I associated with earlier chapters of my life.
But I was still carrying things I hadn't worked through.
Stress.
Unresolved emotions.
Habits.
Patterns.
And an expectation that a new beginning would somehow make everything feel better.
Sometimes it did.
But not permanently.
Because eventually, I learned something I wish I'd understood sooner.
You can move across the country, but you can't outrun yourself.
The Part of My Story I Wasn't Sharing
By 2023, my mental health had continued to decline.
I was struggling more than I wanted to admit.
And my drinking had reached a point where I knew it was becoming a problem.
For someone who had spent so much of her life being independent, capable, and determined to figure everything out, admitting that I needed help wasn't particularly easy.
But I eventually decided to seek support for my mental health.
During that process, I was diagnosed with ADHD.
And honestly?
I was surprised.
I'd spent years thinking about my personality, habits, motivation, and difficulties with focus in completely different ways.
I thought getting a diagnosis might immediately make everything click.
Like I'd finally have the explanation I'd been missing.
But I quickly learned that understanding something about yourself and figuring out how to manage it are two different things.
Finding the right treatment and support wasn't instantaneous.
And living hundreds of miles away from my support system made the process feel even more isolating.
I was trying to build a better life while also learning how to take better care of myself.
And those two things didn't always progress at the same pace.
For a long time, I'd measured growth by what I was accomplishing.
The business.
The income.
The move.
The next goal.
But I was beginning to understand that building a successful life means very little if you're not taking care of the person who's supposed to enjoy it.
The Years I Spent Searching
I spent much of 2024 and part of 2025 traveling.
Different places.
Different experiences.
Different routines.
Different business ideas.
And honestly?
Different versions of myself.
I was exploring what I wanted my life to look like.
Trying new things.
Changing my mind.
Learning what worked for me and what didn't.
Eventually, I landed in Oklahoma, where I spent about a year.
And while that chapter didn't necessarily produce the financial results I'd hoped for, it taught me a lot.
About business.
About myself.
About what I wanted.
And about what I was no longer willing to accept.
There were moments when I wondered whether all the moving, experimenting, and starting over was actually getting me anywhere.
Because when you're constantly rebuilding, it can be difficult to recognize how much you've learned.
But looking back, I can see that those experiences weren't disconnected.
They were shaping my perspective.
Every success.
Every failure.
Every unexpected opportunity.
Every decision I made too quickly.
Every lesson I had to learn the hard way.
It all influenced the woman I was becoming.
And eventually, those experiences brought me back to Florida.
Coming Back to Florida With a Different Mindset
In June 2026, I moved back to Florida.
But this move felt different.
Not because everything was suddenly perfect.
Not because I had accomplished every goal.
And certainly not because I had finally figured out every aspect of my life.
It felt different because my intentions had changed.
For so long, starting over had been my response to feeling stuck.
I'd change my environment.
Explore a new opportunity.
Create a different plan.
And hope that the excitement of a fresh beginning would help me move forward.
But this time, I wasn't trying to escape my life.
I was intentionally moving toward the life I wanted to create.
And that distinction meant everything to me.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had genuine clarity.
I knew what I wanted.
I knew where I wanted to build my life.
I knew why those goals mattered.
I had a clearer idea of how I could accomplish them.
And I was beginning to understand that the most important question wasn't simply what I wanted to achieve.
It was something much more personal.
Who Do I Have to Become to Create That Life?
That question has completely changed the way I approach my goals.
Because five years ago, I was primarily focused on outcomes.
Where I wanted to live.
How much money I wanted to make.
What kind of business I wanted to own.
What I wanted my life to look like.
And while those things still matter to me, I've realized that achieving them requires more than writing them down and hoping everything works out.
It requires habits.
Discipline.
Follow-through.
Systems.
And the willingness to make decisions that support the future I'm trying to create.
Five years ago, I was trying to figure out what kind of business I wanted to build.
Today, I'm working on growing businesses I've already started.
Five years ago, I was searching for opportunities.
Today, I'm learning how to develop the opportunities I have.
Five years ago, I relied heavily on motivation.
Today, I'm learning to rely on routines and systems.
And perhaps most importantly, five years ago, I thought creating a better life was mostly about changing my circumstances.
Today, I understand that I also have to change how I approach them.
I don't want to build a business that only works when I'm feeling motivated.
I don't want financial success that comes at the expense of my mental health.
And I don't want freedom that disappears the moment I stop working.
I want to create something sustainable.
A life that supports my goals, my well-being, and my responsibilities as a mother.
And that requires a different level of intention.
I'm not just working toward a different life. I'm working on becoming someone who can sustain it.
The Original 18-Month Plan
Now, let's go back to that Fourth of July weekend in 2021.
When I recently found the document I'd written, I couldn't help but smile.
Because reading it five years later felt like having a conversation with a younger version of myself.
A woman who was ambitious.
Overwhelmed.
Hopeful.
And trying desperately to create something different.
Here's what I wrote:
18 Months to Your Best Self
July 2021 – December 2022
In 18 months, I would like to be moving to Wilmington, NC or some other coastal town. I would like to have a 40k dollar safety net and have a strong and consistent flow of income, strictly from my business. I would like to be a published author. I would like to rent a house in a higher end subdivision or community and work from home. I want to look good and feel good. I want to dress very businessy and fashionable. I want it to be fulfilled as a mother and have strong relationships with my kids, as well as be actively involved in my children's lives, not just present. I want to have transitioned over to an active, healthier, more natural, non-toxic lifestyle. I want to be happy, have a sense of belonging, and a solid support system.
I mean...
Can we talk about the fact that I specifically wrote Wilmington, North Carolina?
Because at the time, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to make that happen.
And yet, I eventually moved there.
Not everything happened on the timeline I originally imagined.
Not everything happened exactly the way I'd planned.
But some of it became my reality.
And that feels pretty incredible to look back on.
What Happened to Those Dreams?
When I compare that original plan with where I am today, I see a mixture of accomplishments, unfinished goals, and priorities that have evolved.
I did move to Wilmington.
I did create opportunities to work for myself.
I've continued developing businesses and earning income through my own work.
And the creative company I was building back in 2021 has evolved into Openly Curated.
Something that was once just an idea is now a real business and creative platform.
I've also continued working toward becoming a published author.
My book, It's a Scam, is still unpublished.
And while that might look like an unfinished goal, I've become more intentional about how I want to bring it into the world.
I'm thinking about the long game.
Not just getting something finished for the sake of checking it off a list.
Other goals?
They're still works in progress.
The financial safety net.
The home.
The lifestyle.
The sense of stability and community I imagined.
And that's okay.
Because one of the most important things I've learned is that a plan can give your life direction without becoming a deadline you use to punish yourself.
Some goals take longer.
Some change.
Some turn out to be less important than you originally thought.
And sometimes, the process of pursuing them teaches you that what you really wanted was something deeper.
What I Thought Freedom Meant
When I wrote that first plan, I associated freedom with a few specific things.
Working from home.
Making money through my own business.
Living somewhere beautiful.
Having savings.
Being able to spend more time with my daughters.
And while I still want those things, my understanding of freedom has expanded.
Because I've experienced what it feels like to work for myself while still being completely overwhelmed.
I've experienced having flexibility without enough structure.
I've experienced the excitement of starting something new without always having the systems necessary to sustain it.
And I've learned that simply being self-employed doesn't automatically make you free.
Sometimes you end up creating a job that's even more demanding than the one you left.
Especially when you're doing everything yourself.
The marketing.
The finances.
The customer service.
The scheduling.
The actual work.
Every single part of the business.
And for a long time, that's exactly what I was doing.
I was the CEO.
The assistant.
The accountant.
The marketer.
The customer service department.
And everything in between.
I wanted my businesses to grow.
But I was also afraid of what growth would require from me.
Because when you're responsible for everything, more customers don't automatically mean more freedom.
Sometimes they just mean more work.
And I didn't want to keep building businesses that depended entirely on my ability to do everything myself.
I wanted to create freedom, not another version of exhaustion.
The Next 18 Months: July 2026 to January 2028
So here we are.
Five years after I wrote that first plan, I'm creating another one.
And this time, my vision is even bigger.
Not necessarily because I want more things.
But because I understand more clearly what I want my life to feel like.
Over the next eighteen months, I want to grow Openly Curated into a sustainable creative business.
I want to develop my property management company.
I want to build my cleaning business into something that doesn't depend entirely on me being the person performing every service.
I want to own a home in a small coastal community.
Purchase my next vehicle with cash.
Publish It's a Scam.
And begin working toward investing in beachfront vacation rentals.
Those are some of the tangible goals.
The things I can write down.
Measure.
Plan for.
And work toward.
But there's another part of this plan that's just as important.
I want to be healthier.
More disciplined.
More present.
More financially responsible.
More intentional about how I spend my time.
And more connected to the community I'm choosing to build my life in.
I want to create businesses that support my family without consuming every hour of my day.
I want to have the freedom to travel, explore, and make memories with my daughters.
And I want to feel genuinely fulfilled by the life I'm living.
Not just impressed by what I've accomplished.
Because at the end of the day?
The businesses aren't the goal. The life is.
This Time, I'm Building Systems Instead of Relying on Motivation
If there's one major difference between my 2021 plan and my 2026 plan, it's how I intend to approach it.
Five years ago, I had an enormous amount of motivation.
I was excited.
Determined.
And willing to take some pretty significant risks to change my circumstances.
But motivation isn't always reliable.
Some days you wake up feeling like you can conquer the world.
Other days, you're exhausted.
Overwhelmed.
Distracted.
Or dealing with something you never saw coming.
And if your progress depends entirely on how motivated you feel, it's difficult to build consistency.
That's why I'm approaching this next chapter differently.
I'm focusing on routines.
Financial systems.
Business processes.
Time management.
Healthier habits.
And learning how to create structure without sacrificing the spontaneity I love.
Because I don't want to become someone who has to work constantly to maintain the life she's created.
I want to become someone who knows how to manage it.
That means following through on the things I commit to.
Learning to prioritize.
Recognizing when I need help.
Making thoughtful financial decisions.
And understanding that I can't pursue every idea at the same time.
It also means taking care of myself.
Because I can't keep treating my mental and physical well-being like something I'll focus on after everything else is accomplished.
There will always be another goal.
Another project.
Another opportunity.
Another responsibility.
And I don't want to spend the next eighteen months chasing success while neglecting the life I'm supposed to be enjoying.
So I've started asking myself a question:
What can I do today that makes tomorrow easier?
Not what can I accomplish in the next five years.
Not how can I completely transform my life overnight.
Just:
What can I do today?
And then actually doing it.
Why I'm Documenting This Journey
One of the reasons I created Openly Curated was because I wanted a space to share the experiences that have shaped me.
The spontaneous decisions.
The places I've lived.
The businesses I've started.
The mistakes I've made.
The things I've learned about motherhood, entrepreneurship, mental health, and personal growth.
But I've also realized that I don't want to share only the stories after everything has worked out.
I want to document the process while I'm still living it.
Because so much of what we see online is the finished result.
The successful business.
The beautiful home.
The financial milestone.
The person who appears to have everything figured out.
But we don't always see what happens in between.
The uncertainty.
The financial challenges.
The ideas that don't work.
The moments when someone has to completely change direction.
Or the ordinary days when the only thing keeping them moving forward is the decision to show up again.
That's the part I want to share.
Because I'm still in it.
I haven't accomplished everything on my list.
I'm still learning how to manage my businesses more effectively.
Still figuring out how to balance ambition with rest.
Still building healthier routines.
And still learning what it means to create a life intentionally instead of constantly reacting to whatever happens next.
I don't want Openly Curated to be a highlight reel.
I want it to be an honest record of the process.
The experiences.
The experiments.
The progress.
And the lessons.
Because maybe someone else is in the same place I was five years ago.
Sitting at home with a notebook full of ideas.
Dreaming about a different life.
Wondering whether any of it is actually possible.
And maybe seeing someone else work through that process will help them feel a little more capable of beginning their own.
The Next Chapter Starts Here
When I look back at the woman who wrote that first 18-month plan, I feel a lot of things.
Pride.
Compassion.
Gratitude.
And a little disbelief at how much life can change in five years.
She had no idea what was coming.
The moves.
The responsibilities.
The challenges.
The unexpected opportunities.
The things she'd have to let go of.
Or the ways she'd change along the way.
But she believed there was something more out there for her.
And she was willing to try to find it.
I love that about her.
Even if I wish she'd slowed down occasionally.
Even if I wish she'd taken better care of herself.
Even if I wish she'd understood that changing your life doesn't always require changing everything at once.
Because without her willingness to take risks, I wouldn't have experienced so many of the things that shaped the person I am today.
And now?
I'm ready for a different kind of growth.
Less chaos.
More intention.
Less constantly starting over.
More building on what I've already created.
Less relying on motivation.
More learning how to follow through.
And less measuring success by how much I'm doing.
More measuring it by whether I'm creating a life I genuinely enjoy.
I originally planned to document this next chapter beginning July 1, 2026, with regular updates across my blog, social platforms, and the second season of my podcast.
The idea is simple.
Eighteen months.
A clearer vision.
A more intentional approach.
And an honest look at what happens when I stop waiting for the perfect circumstances and start focusing on the choices I can make every day.
Will everything happen exactly according to plan?
Probably not.
If the last five years have taught me anything, it's that life has a way of introducing plot twists you never saw coming.
But that's okay.
I'm not expecting perfection.
I'm expecting growth.
And this time, I'm not just trying to create a different life.
I'm becoming the woman capable of living it.
With love,
Karma Dios
Openly Curated
Follow along with Openly Curated and the podcast as I document the next 18 months of entrepreneurship, personal growth, intentional living, and creating a life outside traditional expectations.
The businesses aren't the goal. The life is.