Behind every small business is a soul carrying more than just dreams, it’s hope stitched into late nights, silent prayers, and the ache of doing it all alone. Come Find Me is not just a poem, it’s a quiet yet bold call to the one who’s been looking to believe in something real. If you’ve ever searched for a story worth backing, for purpose in action, this is it. I’ve built, I’ve endured, I’ve stayed faithful to the vision. Now, I’m simply asking to be seen.
They say help comes when you least expect it,
but I’ve been expecting, hoping, yearning, for years.
I’ve been praying silently while smiling in public.
But underneath, God knows,
I just want to be held up for once.
I have walked so far alone,
built so much with my bare hands,
stitched ideas into offerings,
wrapped gifts in the quiet of midnight,
packaged joy into every order…
Watching others receive the kind of help
I’ve only dared whisper about at night.
Even I, the “she’ll figure it out” girl,
I’m tired of being my own backup plan.
And so…
I crave that miracle hand.
The one that says,
“You don’t have to do it all alone.”
I’ve always believed in divine timing,
but sometimes I wonder if the clock broke on my miracle.
Because I’ve been waiting.
Waiting like a seed waits underground.
Trusting that one day, someone would water me.
I want help.
Not handouts.
Just that one yes.
I want a destiny helper,
a soul who sees what I carry,
who hears the quiet brilliance in my plans,
and says,
“Let me help you fly.”
If I tell the truth…
Sometimes I envy the women
who are chosen, lifted, supported,
not because they begged,
but simply because someone believed in their glow.
Who are told,
“Here’s the capital. Go build.”
Cars bought.
Phones gifted.
Stores opened.
Websites designed and paid for.
Photographers hired.
Rent covered.
And while I’m happy for them,
some days, a part of me aches, wondering,
What about me?
Why has no one ever looked at me and said,
“Here, let me help you build it.”
I want that.
I really want it. So bad.
Not out of greed,
but because I know what I could do with a little push.
I have the ideas.
I have the drive.
I have the fire.
What I need now is fuel.
I know envy isn’t pretty,
but neither is the ache
of knowing I could have soared by now
if only someone said,
“Here, I believe in you.”
Sometimes I feel sad.
Disappointed, really,
that no one’s offered to back my vision.
That no one’s said,
“Here, take this and go build something great.”
Not even the ones I helped first.
Because I’ve poured into others,
built portfolios,
pitched their brands,
showed up for their dreams.
But when it’s time for mine…
I get silence. Excuses. Delays.
Brushed off like I was asking for too much.
And maybe that’s what stings most,
not that they didn’t give,
but that they never even looked closely enough
to realize how much I needed it.
So now, I’ve closed that door.
Locked it.
Swallowed the key.
Because I refuse to wait where I’m not wanted.
I refuse to keep hoping where help is only a maybe.
I know I sometimes come off as entitled,
but it’s not entitlement.
It’s hunger.
It’s vision.
It’s a woman who sees what could be
and wonders why no one else has.
I don’t want to beg.
But God knows…
it would feel so good to be supported.
Not pitied. Not used.
Not promised and forgotten,
but truly seen.
So I won’t pretend I don’t need it.
Because I’ve carried this alone for long enough.
This is my open letter to the one meant to lift me:
Come find me already.
If you’re out there,
the one who sees value before results,
the one who believes in people before profits,
the one who’s been praying to pour into someone like me,
I hope this reaches you.
Because I’m ready.
I am open.
I am in position.
I’ve cleared the clutter,
done the inner work,
and now I make room for miracles.
I am already in motion.
And I am calling you in.
I have the dream mapped out already:
A physical store in an ideal spot.
Shelves lined with wrapping paper, candles, and gifts
that feel like a warm hug.
Clients who say,
“This feels like you made it just for me.”
Because I did.
A team of women I’ve hired,
paid well, honored deeply.
Mothers and dreamers.
Daughters of women who never got the chance.
And now we do, together.
Creating beauty. Building legacy.
Orders flying out across Kenya,
and slowly, the world.
Nairobi to Mombasa.
Kisumu to Kigali.
London. Dubai. Accra. New York.
I have this yearning,
this fire in my belly that won’t go out.
A dream to grow my gift shop into an empire.
To wake up in my own rhythm.
Clock in when I choose.
Breathe while I build.
And know that my life is finally my own.
I want to make enough to clear my debts.
To finally breathe again
without calculating every coin.
I want to travel,
not for escape,
but for expansion.
To work for myself, on my terms,
without asking for days off
like a child requesting permission to live.
I want to rise without resentment.
To give because I can, not because I must.
To pour from a place of peace, not pressure.
To show other women and dreamers
that they don’t have to stay stuck,
that passion, paired with support,
can rewrite entire bloodlines.
And I want to give back.
Because that’s always been the plan,
to lift others as I rise.
To say “yes” to the passionate ones
who just need a small push,
the way I needed one.
Because I remember how it felt
to need just one person to say,
“I see you. You’re worth it.”
So no, I’m not lazy.
And no, I’m not entitled.
I’m just finally done pretending I don’t need support.
I’ve done the heavy lifting.
I just need a good wind now,
a strong, steady wind to help me soar.
Maybe it’s a stranger turned investor,
a friend, a partner, a husband, a love.
I’m open. I don’t mind.
As long as it’s pure.
As long as it’s aligned.
As long as they see me.
Maybe you’re reading this with goosebumps,
wondering how I wrote your thoughts.
Because perhaps
you’ve also been praying
to pour into someone
whose passion is real,
whose heart is clean,
whose dream is divine.
If you’re reading this,
if you’ve ever wondered who to bet on,
Choose the woman with a dream stitched into her spine.
The one who’s tired but still trying.
The one who keeps showing up,
not for attention,
but because vision won’t let her sleep.
Because the truth is,
I was never meant to be an employee forever.
God didn’t give me this hunger for freedom,
this eye for detail,
this heart for people,
just so I could sit under fluorescent lights
chasing performance reviews
and pretending that’s enough.
No.
I was meant for more.
For ownership.
For impact.
For mornings that begin with joy, not traffic.
For wealth that flows from doing what I love.
For generosity that doesn’t cost me everything.
To bless hands with beauty.
To turn my ideas into income.
To hire, to empower, to expand.
I know you’re out there.
Somewhere.
Reading this.
Feeling the pull.
The same tug I feel in my chest.
I don’t care who you are,
only that you come.
That you come open, honest, and ready.
That you meet me not as a savior, not as a master,
but as someone who sees me
already halfway up the mountain
and says,
“Let’s get you to the peak.”
So I’m calling you in now.
Not tomorrow. Not “someday.”
Now.
Within the next month,
may something shift.
A connection. A message. A spark.
A door opening where I least expect,
that sets this all in motion.
Let it be easy.
Let it feel right.
Let it flow.
Let it come with confirmation so loud,
neither of us can ignore it.
I’ve watched others be backed.
Pushed. Funded. Chosen.
Now I say, why not me?
The doors that open for others
can open for me, too.
The favor that flows to others
can flow to me, too.
Money. Equipment. Opportunity. Mentorship.
It can all find me, with grace.
Because I am ready.
I’m ready for ease.
To receive.
To rise.
Ready to be seen in the bigness of what I carry.
To fund my son’s dreams, and my own.
To build something that outlives me.
To run this business with freedom, fire, and faith.
So if you’re out there,
the one with the means, the network, the heart,
know this:
I’m not asking you to complete me.
I’ve done the work.
I’m just asking you to believe in me enough
to water what I’ve already planted.
Come find me.
Come see the fire I’ve been carrying.
Come invest, not just in a shop,
but in a shift.
Help me move from almost to already.
From waiting to winning.
From dreams in a notebook
to signs above a doorframe.
From wishful whispers
to tracking orders on a dashboard.
Come find me.
This is your sign,
just as it is mine.
Come where you’re needed.
Come where your seed will multiply.
Come where your heart will feel useful.
Come, because it’s already written.
You, and me,
were meant to build something unforgettable.
And we will.
You’re the one I’ve been calling in.
You’re the yes I’ve been sowing for.
So answer it.
Come with keys.
Come with kind eyes.
Come with vision.
Come not to rescue me,
but to rise with me.
Because now that I’ve asked,
the receiving has already begun.
Amen.
And so it is.
If this moved something in you, let it. This isn’t about saving me. It’s about joining a mission already in motion. I’ve done the work. I’m open. I’m ready. So if you’ve been praying for a dream to invest in, this might just be it. Let this be the nudge. Let this be the answer. Come not to complete the vision, but to rise with it. Come find me.
Learn more: Chapter 5: The Spark of Garo Gift Shop
