Becoming the Business I Never Saw: Tumble Dry Lo

Tumble Dry Lo, Because Why Not?
The Lo Down: This one’s for the 8-year-old me — and the 28-year-old manager who still had questions.

I remember a time in my life when I was really inquisitive. I had so many questions. I still do.

Eight was a great year (and it’s a great number). I think about how Mel Robbins, in her Let Them book, says people often react in ways that mirror an 8-year-old child. Well, this question is framed from the mind of that child.

Growing up, I didn’t know any entrepreneurs. I didn’t see them in my family. What I saw were teachers and service workers — cosmetologists, CNAs, cashiers, food servers.

I knew my mom became pregnant as a teen in high school. My eldest sister, too. And then another sister, who finished high school, but got pregnant in her final months. That shaped how I saw the world. I took in some unspoken rules:
– Don’t ask too many questions.
– Don’t talk back to adults.
– Don’t get pregnant before marriage.
– Serving is hard, but noble.

All I wanted to be was a teacher — like Mrs. Green in 2nd grade or Mrs. Parkinson, my sophomore English teacher. They saw me. They valued my questions. They rewarded my curiosity and effort.

In school, I felt like I could thrive. My personality fit there. (Okay… middle school was rough, but you get the point.)

Quick side story:
I entered middle school with a jerry curl. My sister — just a year and a week older — had one too. My mom, a part-time cosmetologist, had tried to fix a bad relaxer. It didn't go well.

Thanks to that curl activator, we earned two seats on the school bus that no one else touched. Why? Because the window had a permanent wet spot where we’d lay our heads. Kids started calling us “Drip Drop” (my sister) and “Juicy Fruit” (me — for long-term curves and belly fat).

Anytime we tried to change seats, they’d say, “Uh uh. Y’all know that’s y’all’s seats.”

From 4th grade through middle school, I got bullied. But my sister fought those bullies off. We were known as the Jernigan girls. We had a pact: restore our names and stand out in school — but in a good way.

My point?
For me, it’s hard to imagine becoming something you’ve never seen.

That’s what being a business owner feels like.

Now, yes — my sister always tried to rope me into her side hustles: selling Kool-Aid, joining a project, helping her brainstorm new ventures. Maybe it’s because she saw how my brain worked — I liked systems, organizing, grouping.

She had the passion. I had the plans.

Fast forward 25–30 years:
– One sister runs the wildly successful Danielle’s Popcorn
– One brother is in construction, working union and launching his own business
– Another sister owns a food truck business, even with a nursing background

Me? I was the only holdout.

Before I started Tumble Dry Lo — and y’all, I did not want to — I really just wanted someone else to pay me. That felt safer.

But I was always solving things for people. I was the one folks gave hard problems to. I was trusted, respected, invited into rooms.

I didn’t always enjoy working in places where people weren’t fully committed to change — but I loved working with people. The new folks. The naysayers. The committed ones. The skeptics.

I wanted to understand all of them — the way I wanted to be understood.

That’s how I’ve always moved. Whether in a university, a community, or an organization, I try to really see people. That builds trust. That builds culture.

Even when I was struggling, I thrived — because I built relationships.
Because I gave care.
Because I was curious.
Because I asked better questions.

Tumble Dry Lo is my care model.

It’s my way of saying:
“I know leadership is hard. Life is hard. But maybe… just maybe… it’s easier with the right tools, the right words, and the right people.”

Maybe it’s a worksheet. Maybe it’s a workshop. Maybe it’s just a kind word at the right time.
Whatever it is — I’m building it, for people like me… and people not like me who want something better.

Tumble Dry Lo is a self-reflective mantra. It reminds me to be gentle with myself. It’s also the method I use to help leaders and teams get things done with care.

Yes, results matter.
Yes, pressure happens.
Yes, sometimes, high heat is necessary.
(Shoutout GloRilla: Let her cook.)

But we believe in just enough heat to get the wrinkles out — not to burn your favorite shirt.

So why do we let managers, broken systems, and hostile workplaces run on high heat?

Would you do that to your favorite jeans? No.
So don’t do it to your people.

The Lo Down is this:
I’ve been burned by enough high-heat managers.
That’s why I built my own dryer. One with care settings.

Tumble Dry Lo is proof that you can be compassionate and results-driven.
You can be human-centered and high performing.
You can be real, warm, messy, and still effective.

Even if life has turned you into a cactus, I promise:
You can still bloom.
You can still be handled with care.
And if you’ve caused harm, even unintentionally? You can reset the temperature.

Turn it down.
Handle it differently.
Start now.

With Care,

Mo 💓