Entrepreneurship, we’re told, is a single path. Scale. Repeat. Exit. Do it again.
But if you sit with enough entrepreneurs, you start to see something else: a quiet divide. Two entirely different wirings. Two entirely different rhythms of wealth and work.
On one side are the Builders – the Warren Buffets and Alex Hormozis of the world. Logical, linear, disciplined. They analyze numbers. They optimize. They repeat the same playbook, refining it until it shines.
On the other side are the Creators – Jim Henson, Steve Jobs. Volatile. Visionary. They ride cycles of creative fire and collapse, surging into new territory, often long before the world is ready.
Neither path is better. But they are not the same. And when a woman wired for creation tries to force herself into the builder’s mold, it feels like asking a fish to climb a tree. So many of my clients– incredible, creative, visionary women, believe they need to fundamentally change their wiring to create wealth, and they end up in businesses that they hate. That swallow them whole.
My hope is that my laying out some of the nuances of these two archetypes– The Builder and The Creator– at a deeper level, you will find some wisdom within their wiring and path to success that help you on your way.
The Builders
I have immense respect for the Builders.
Builders tend to move with a more masculine energy– focused, directed, linear, grounded in logic and systems.
Some women who are Creators at their core may find themselves encased in an artificial thick masculine shell built layer by layer as they grew up– rewarded for achievement, control, and predictability.
But Builders who are builders in their bones?
They love the game.
They find joy in running the same funnel, optimizing the same evergreen system, perfecting the same process year after year.
They’re the ones who feel deeply satisfied by finding the tweak that improves a conversion rate by 1%.
Who rebuild their dashboards until the data sings.
Who love the stability of scaling a proven offer from six figures to seven, not by reinventing it– but by running it again and again and again– and optimizing it. Refining it.
Think of the online entrepreneur who’s spent five years mastering one flagship program and its funnel– running launch after launch, each time tightening the copy, refining the webinar slides, improving the backend systems.
Or the CEO who builds a digital agency, scales it, sells it, and then, after the non-compete expires, starts another one– nearly identical– because the thrill isn’t in novelty or adventure. It’s in being able to predict and control outcomes.
That’s the Builder’s genius.
The discipline to run the same play, the same operation, the same model again and again.
Like a musician playing the same song night after night until it becomes transcendent in its precision.
The Builder thrives on repetition, predictability, optimization– a long, slow compounding curve.
And the world rewards them handsomely for it.
The Creators
The Creators
And then, there are the others.
The women whose pulse quickens at the edge of the unknown.
Who feel alive not in repetition, but in constantly pushing new edges and boundaries of possibility.
They’re not reckless – they’re wired for evolution.
Their gift is not about scaling what already works,
but about expanding into what’s next.
Builders find ecstasy in mastery –
running the same play again and again until it hums like a well-tuned engine.
But Creators crave movement.
They find their joy in exploration – in new textures, new sensations, new creative territories.
They are the ones who, in sex, would be bored with missionary as the only option.
They want to explore new positions of intimacy
new expressions of pleasure–
And this fundamental wiring also comes into their creation.
They take great pleasure in exploring new ways their work and art can meet the world.
You see this archetype across fields in space and time.
The David Bowies who shapeshifted through personas, alienating fans and critics as often as he enthralled them. The Jim Hensons who walked away from the Muppets at the height of their popularity to make darker, stranger films like Dark Crystal and the Labyrinth that would initially flop, and then later be called cult classics. The Steve Jobs who, exiled from Apple, poured his fortune into Pixar, bleeding money for nearly a decade before it became the engine of modern animation.
To the outside world, they look reckless. Volatile. Unstable.
But to the Creator, repetition is death. They are not motivated by optimization. They are motivated by the muse. By the creative pulse that moves through them. By the thrill of flying into new air, even if it means the occasional crash.
And once you see it, you see it everywhere. In comedy: Ellen DeGeneres, who hated stand-up’s repetition but loved comedy, so she had to find a different path that was built for her gifts– a talk show where every day she brought a new guest, a new story, a new game. In business: founders who would rather burn a successful company down than repeat themselves endlessly. In art: those who thrive on creativity, albeit volatile or not, rather than the constant steady sameness of the builder’s engine.
Their work doesn’t seek permanence.
It seeks evolution.
Each creation is an incarnation – complete, beautiful, and eventually outgrown.
This is the Creative Sovereign’s genius:
to keep expanding the edges of what’s possible,
without collapsing the structures that hold her.
Because for her, success isn’t about control.
It’s about aliveness –
and the courage to follow it wherever it leads.
My Own Reckoning
I had to learn this about myself the hard way.
I’ve always known my spirit is creative.
Visionary. Wild.
But I also have an extraordinarily strong mind, and as a young child I began to, layer by layer, build a hard masculine shell around myself.
I was rewarded for being disciplined, hard working, focused. So I built that part of me, until I could barely hear the call of my creative spirit anymore.
I was voted most Intellectual in my high school class.
My top strength in the Gallup StrengthsFinder? Strategic.
I was rewarded for being disciplined, focused, productive.
I became the woman everyone trusted to get it done – the Director of Business Development who helped scale a company by over $100 million in three years.
My ego loved it. My mind thrived.
But my spirit was starving beneath all that logic and repetition.
And when I started my own business, I unconsciously ran the same pattern – systems, launches, optimization.
I built the kind of empire my former self would have worshipped: flawless funnels, multiple-six figure launches, a global audience hanging on every word.
And yet my days felt mechanical, my spirit faint.
I had built a cathedral of logic but forgotten to let the Muse in.
Still, there was a gnawing–
a yearning to live as what I truly am: a Creational Sovereign.
So I began to unravel.
To take afternoons off.
To say no to what made sense on paper but not in my bones.
And in the quiet, I could finally hear her again–
the voice of my creative spirit.
She didn’t want to destroy what I’d built.
She just wanted to breathe life through it.
But to truly honor her, I needed safety–
the kind of financial stability that would let me create freely, without fear.
I’d seen too many women become prisoners of their own empires:
brilliant founders who felt called to pivot but couldn’t afford to,
podcasters resenting their weekly shows but afraid to stop because “that’s where the clients come from,”
creators crushed beneath the very machines they built for freedom.
So I built a second architecture beneath my business—within my personal net worth.
I developed what I now fondly call: Feminine Financials.
A wealth system designed to compound quietly in the background,
so I could follow the muse without checking the math.
Money that hums steadily so my creativity can roar.
Predictable investments so I’m free to create– or not.
To launch– or not.
Because when your money is steady,
your creation is free to soar.
And that’s the thing–
the world, as it’s been built, runs on Builder blueprints: linear, logical, calibrated for constant output.
But for the Creational Sovereign, that model is a slow death.
We are not linear. We are cyclical.
We move in bursts of brilliance and seasons of gestation.
Traditional financial systems punish pause and fear fluctuation,
leaving most Creators trapped between burnout and breakdown.
Feminine Financials is the third way:
a wealth architecture that honors the rhythm of creation.
It lets you build stability without sacrificing spontaneity–
so your rest is resourced,
your pivots are paid for,
and your artistry is never chained to survival.
This isn’t rebellion against structure.
It’s the reclamation of one built for us.
The Third Way
Our culture worships the Builders. They are steady. They are safe. Their graphs go up and to the right.
But until now there has been almost no roadmap for the Creators among us.
We are too often cast as reckless, flighty, irresponsible. As if volatility and vision are flaws to be corrected rather than gifts to be harnessed.
But there is another way.
You can be a Creational Sovereign.
You can build wealth beneath your wings – whether it’s boring index funds, private equity, real estate, hedges against inflation, even a Warhol on the wall – so that your creations are never chained to your survival.
When you do, you discover the most exquisite freedom of all: you are no longer building for safety. You are creating for the sheer joy of expression.
And that is the point.
A Closing Note
The Builders will keep building. And I am so grateful for them.
But for those of us wired differently, those of us who were never meant to live in a straight line – our work is not to force ourselves into their mold.
It is to honor our wiring.
To build the foundations that let us soar.
Because the question, in the end, isn’t whether you’re a Builder or a Creator.
The question is whether you’ve built the wealth to let you be who you fundamentally are.







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