Voices from the Team
The People Who Lived It
23 of 26 · about 178 min
This book has been mine to write. The agency has been ours to build.
Across the chapters that came before, I have described the people I have built CI Web Group with — the Heney cousins, the Marshall family, the Hernandez and Osio lines, Chelsea Nodine, Michael Parker, Clay Howard, and more — from my seat. This section is theirs.
They have written, in their own words and unedited, why CI Web Group — and why this ride through the AI transition. Read them as fellow travelers. They lived the foundation, the fire, the rebuild, and what comes next. Chelsea Nodine is writing her Why letter now; it will join this section when it arrives.
Before — The Foundation
Every transition rests on people who were already all-in before the world changed. Kathy was that for me — equity partner, conscience, and the person who knew what we were building long before AI forced the bet.
Kathy Marshall
Equity Partner, Head of Customer Service
My Why
I loved medicine and my patients. I graduated from Baylor College of Medicine on November 30, 1992. I have had the opportunity to work in several medical specialties, including Neurology, Infectious Disease, Medical Oncology and Haematology, Gastroenterology, and Internal Medicine. I had the opportunity to serve patients for 18 years and learned many lessons and life skills along the way.
As much as I loved medicine, I knew I had a higher purpose.
I tried many things, invested in the wrong opportunities and learned even more lessons.
Due to my very strong entrepreneurial tendencies and the need for a great website, I found Jennifer online due to her education and training. At the first live meeting, I became a customer, and Jennifer’s team created my first website, which I still believe was the best ever!
Back in the day, my custom WordPress website was an amazing place to create my message, story, and purpose. I blogged daily, but they did make me turn off my live music. LOL. Jennifer began bringing up that I should consider changing my career to CIWG.
My second meeting with Jennifer was in person; she was conducting a live CIWG customer training session, which was the best training I had ever experienced. This is when I knew I had found “my spot.”
I was in Friendswood, TX, so my trip to Dallas was a 5-hour drive, but it didn’t matter; I was hooked.
By the third live meeting with CIWG, Jennifer was speaking for an area Chamber of Commerce, and within 5 minutes, the audience all stopped scrolling on their cell phones and doodling on their napkins; they all started to engage, laugh, and participate. The audience shifted; it was visible, they all sat up taller, their eyes became alive. CIWG had me at “Hello,” game over. So later, at dinner in Dallas at “Raw,” when Jennifer asked me to come work with her, I said “YES” without hesitation.
It was with great relief to have finally found my purpose and to work alongside a brilliant professional who just never gave up, persisted during hard times, and worked with excitement and joy for life.
Over the years, and even now, CIWG remains the best workplace to be part of. We have the best HR department that has selected some of the best medical benefits, which have gotten me through Uterine Cancer Surgery, Radiation, and Chemotherapy, allowing me to remain financially stable.
I have one word for Jennifer. She is just brilliant and remains strong in her purpose and growth. She continues to train and inspire our team and customers, for those who come with capacity and are open to change and learning new things.
As much as I loved medicine, I knew I had a higher purpose.
— Kathy Marshall, May 2026
That is Kathy’s voice on the page — the founding entry in this section, written by the woman who has been in this story since the earliest days and by my side since September of 2010, in her own words, with no edits from me. The rest of this section is reserved for the additional voices that will be added in the editions and printings that follow this one. The team is bigger than this book’s first pass can carry. Their voices will arrive. When they do, they will be added here, exactly as Kathy’s is, with no edits, attributed to the writers themselves. The company has been built by people. The book about the company should let those people speak.
And then Clay's arrived — first as two paragraphs, then, days later, as the whole story. Clay has run business development beside me for nearly nine years, and he will be the first to tell you he hates the spotlight — which is exactly what makes what follows precious. The longest continuous witness to how this company actually operates, exactly as he sent it:
Through the Fire
The restructure was not a slide deck. It was names on a list, hard conversations, and the people who stayed when the agency became thirty-eight. These three wrote from inside that season.
Clay Howard
Sr. Director of Business Development
A Nine-Year Education in What Real Leadership Looks Like — by J. Clayton Howard, Jr.
I met Jennifer Bagley at a Daikin trade show in Houston, Texas, almost eleven years ago now. I was working for a different company at the time, and as it happened, our two tables were set up right next to each other on the show floor — hour after hour, booth to booth, the way you end up talking to whoever fate seats you beside at those events. We talked off and on all day. That was all it took. Before the show wrapped, Jennifer looked at me and said, half-joking and half-not, “At some point in time, you gotta work for me.”
I laughed it off. I was happy where I was. I didn’t need anything. I had a job I was fine with, a paycheck I could count on, and no particular reason to think about making a change. I had no idea that conversation would end up reshaping the entire trajectory of my career.
But we stayed in touch. What started as a passing comment at a trade show turned into an actual friendship. Over the next year, year and a half, I’d run into Jennifer here and there — at another industry event, on a phone call about something unrelated — and I got to know her, not as a potential employer, but as a person. What struck me even back then, before I had any stake in her success, was how she talked about the business she was building. There was no arrogance in it, no empty bravado about being the best. It was more like she was solving a puzzle out loud, thinking through how contractors could actually compete in a changing world, and she was clearly a few steps ahead of most people having that conversation. I liked how she thought. I liked her energy. I filed it away, the same way you file away a good idea you’re not ready to act on yet.
Then my own situation changed. I found myself in a different position, looking to make a career move, and Jennifer’s name was the first one that came to mind. I don’t know that I can fully explain why, other than that the memory of her energy and her vision had stuck with me all that time, quietly, in the back of my mind, waiting for the moment I’d actually be free to act on it. I called her up. There was no lengthy interview process, no drawn-out back-and-forth, no committee weighing my resume against a stack of others. She hired me right there on the phone. By the end of that same day, I had a contract sitting in my email inbox. That was it. That was the leap.
The Leap
I want to be honest about how that leap felt, because I think it says something about the kind of leader Jennifer is that people are willing to take it. I didn’t have a background in marketing. I didn’t know the first thing about HVAC, the industry CI Web Group was serving. I couldn’t have told you the difference between a condenser and a compressor, let alone explained why a homeowner should trust one contractor over another. And on top of all of that, I was going to be making less money than I had at my previous full-time job. That’s not a small thing. That’s the kind of detail that keeps you up at night when you’re weighing a decision like that.
Jennifer’s pitch to me wasn’t a bigger paycheck up front — it was a promise. She told me that if I hung in there, if I put in the time to learn the ropes, learn how SEO worked, learn web design, learn the business end to end, and stayed loyal to the process, she would absolutely make it worth my while down the road. She didn’t dress it up. She didn’t oversell it. She just told me plainly what the deal was, and something about that honesty made it easier to trust her.
That’s a hard thing to ask someone to bet on — their income, their stability, their whole professional identity, on the promise of a person they’d known socially for a year and a half. But something about the way she said it made me believe her, and so I took the leap of faith. Looking back now, from where I sit almost nine years later, I can say without any hesitation that it was the best professional decision I have ever made. But I didn’t know that then. Then, it was just a leap, and a nervous one.
That First Year Was Rocky
That first year was rocky. I won’t pretend otherwise. I was learning an entirely new industry and an entirely new discipline at the same time, and there were plenty of days I went home wondering if I’d made the right call. Every day brought some new acronym, some new concept, some new piece of the puzzle I hadn’t known existed the day before. SEO. On-page optimization. The mechanics of how a search engine actually decides which contractor’s website to show a homeowner searching for emergency AC repair at eleven o’clock at night. Web design principles I’d never had reason to think about. The particular language and pain points of HVAC, plumbing, electrical, and every other trade we served — the seasonal rushes, the emergency call culture, the way trust gets built (or lost) with a homeowner in the span of a single phone call.
I had a coworker on the sales team at the time, someone I actually knew from a previous position, who helped train me and show me the ropes when I first got there. I’m grateful for that head start; having someone who could translate the basics for me in those first weeks made an enormous difference. But head start or not, I was determined — determined in a way that went beyond just getting through the day — to actually understand the marketing side of the business. I wanted to know what made CI Web Group different from every other agency calling on the same contractors, competing for the same accounts. I wasn’t satisfied learning the script; I wanted to understand the “why” behind it. Why this approach to a proposal worked better than that one. Why one contractor’s website converted visitors into phone calls and another one, built by a competitor, quietly bled traffic. I read everything I could get my hands on. I asked more questions than I probably should have. I wanted the whole picture, not just my slice of it.
That determination paid off faster than I expected. In no time at all, I had surpassed the very teammate who trained me — not because I was smarter or more talented, but because I refused to stop at “good enough to get by.”
Here’s the thing about that, though — and it’s maybe the most important part of this whole story. My teammate was sharp. She was capable. But there was one thing she could never quite adjust to, and it’s the same thing that, looking back, taught me more about leadership than anything else in my career: Jennifer moves fast, and she doesn’t get attached to “the way we’ve always done it.”
Adjusting to Her Speed
She’d walk in and teach us a new process for something — a sales approach, a way of framing a proposal, an outreach method, a way of positioning a particular service against a competitor’s — and we’d run with it for two or three days. We’d start to feel confident in it, start to see it working. Then, on day four or five, she’d come back with something different. Something better. Sometimes it was a small refinement. Sometimes it was a near-total rework of how we were supposed to approach a whole category of prospect. To an outsider, or to someone not used to that pace, it could look almost random, like she was changing her mind just for the sake of it. My teammate experienced it that way, and honestly, it wore her down over time. She could learn a system. What she couldn’t do was keep re-learning one every week, and eventually, that ground her down enough that she didn’t last.
I understood the frustration, because at first, it wore on me too. I wasn’t used to things shifting that quickly. I liked to get comfortable with a process before it changed on me — I think most people do. There’s a real security in mastering something and then just running it on repeat. But the more time I spent around Jennifer, the more I realized something important: it was never random. Her mind was always working two or three steps ahead of the rest of us. She’d implement something new, and rather than settling into it and getting comfortable, she’d keep turning it over in her head, looking for the better version of it — sometimes finding that better version days later, sometimes weeks later, and sometimes within hours of rolling the first version out.
It took me a good two years to fully make peace with that rhythm. Two years of catching myself getting frustrated by a change, then stopping to actually look at the results, and realizing every time that the new way was working better than the old way had. It took two years for that pattern to sink in deeply enough that I stopped resisting it and started expecting it. But once that clicked, something in how I approached my own work changed. I realized that every single time she made one of those changes — every pivot that used to catch us off guard — the company got stronger for it. Every time I leaned into the change instead of resisting it, and put in the work to learn the new process, it worked out to the company’s advantage. So I made a decision: I was going to go with the flow, whatever the flow was, because in all my years working for her, not once has she steered us down the wrong path.
I’ll say that again, because it’s the heart of the matter: not once has she steered us down the wrong path. That’s an extraordinary thing to be able to say about a leader after nearly nine years, across dozens of shifts in strategy, technology, and approach.
What used to feel like a weakness in myself — needing time to adjust to her speed — I’ve come to see as one of the sharpest advantages we have over our competition. While other agencies are still executing on last year’s playbook, still selling contractors the same templated website and the same tired SEO checklist they were selling five years ago, Jennifer has already rewritten our playbook twice. And because I learned, eventually, to pivot at her pace instead of fighting it, I’ve been able to stay right there with her, which means I’ve been able to help the company stay ahead of an industry that is not exactly known for standing still. I see it now in the tools we’ve built and the platforms we’ve rolled out — the kind of work that didn’t exist as a concept in our industry two years ago is now just what we do on a Tuesday. That doesn’t happen by accident. It happens because someone at the top refuses to stand still, and because the people around her learn to move with her instead of watching from the sidelines.
Fast forward to today, and I look at what we’re building — websites and platforms that are, frankly, more efficient and more forward-thinking than anything else being built in our space — and it makes me genuinely proud to be part of this company. I need to say something here that might sound like a contradiction, but I don’t think it is: I have a real problem with being in the spotlight. I don’t like tooting my own horn. I don’t need the accolades or the attention. I’d rather be in the background, doing the work, helping the company get better one day at a time. That’s just who I am, and it’s probably why writing something like this feels a little uncomfortable, even now.
Proud of Our Team
But pride is different from attention-seeking, and I can say without hesitation that I am proud. Proud of our team. Proud of the work we put out into the world. Proud that when I look at what our competitors are still trying to figure out, we’re already three steps past it. And proud of our fearless leader, who has never once let this company get comfortable with where it is.
I don’t want to paint this as some kind of fairy tale where everything has always gone smoothly, because that wouldn’t be honest, and it wouldn’t do justice to what actually makes Jennifer remarkable. There have been times over these nine years where she and I haven’t agreed. There have been disagreements about approach, about strategy, about how to handle a given situation with a client or a process internally. That’s normal. That’s what happens when you work closely with someone for the better part of a decade, and honestly, I’d be suspicious of any testimonial that claimed otherwise. Two people who never disagree over nine years either aren’t paying attention or aren’t being honest with each other.
What’s not normal — what I think genuinely sets Jennifer apart — is how she handles those disagreements. She has this ability to separate the business from the personal in a way that a lot of leaders talk about but very few actually practice. When we don’t see eye to eye, she listens. She actually listens, not the kind of listening where someone’s just waiting for their turn to talk. She takes the feedback seriously, even in the moments where she might be the one who’s wrong — and yes, there have been instances where she was wrong, and she owned that too, plainly, without excuses. She doesn’t get an attitude about it. She doesn’t get defensive or arrogant or make you feel small for having pushed back. She just absorbs it, learns from it, and moves forward, usually faster than I expect her to. At her core, she’s a deeply humble person, which is not a word most people would think to use about someone who is, by any honest measure, a genius. But it’s the right word. She wants to make everyone she touches better — her employees, our clients, everyone — and that desire to lift people up is not an act. I’ve watched it up close for almost nine years, in good quarters and hard ones, in moments of success and moments of frustration. I believe it from the bottom of my heart, and it’s a big part of what has kept me here and kept me loyal to her and to this company.
That generosity shows up in small ways as much as big ones. It’s in the way she’ll take the time to explain the reasoning behind a decision instead of just issuing it. It’s in the way she has invested in people who, like me nine years ago, walked in without the exact background the job seemed to call for, because she was more interested in whether someone was willing to learn than in whether they already had every box checked. It’s in the patience she’s shown me personally, more than once, while I caught up to a pace that didn’t come naturally to me at first. A less generous leader would have just moved on to someone easier to manage. She didn’t.
The Part That Wasn’t Easy
I’ll admit there’s a part of this story that wasn’t easy for me to sit with, and I think it’s worth telling honestly, because it’s where I learned something about myself as much as I learned something about Jennifer. I came into this industry with more than twenty years of sales experience behind me, including time running my own sales-related business. I know what building and leading a sales team looks like, or at least I thought I did. So on two separate occasions, when other people were promoted into VP or senior management roles over me, I was salty about it. There’s no other honest word for it. I looked at those decisions and felt, in my gut, that I had more experience, and that I could have done a better job growing a sales team than the people who got the nod.
Then, a little over a year ago, Jennifer told me something that changed how I saw all of it. She admitted, plainly, that she never promoted me into one of those roles because she didn’t want to lose her number one sales performer to a desk. She knew that the moment she buried me in administrative work, mundane meetings, and people management, I’d stop doing the thing I actually loved and the thing I was best at, which was connecting with people and educating them about our product. She wasn’t holding me back. She was protecting the part of my job that mattered most, both to me and to the company, even when I couldn’t see it that way myself.
That conversation landed hard, because she was right, and she’d apparently known she was right for a long time before she ever said it out loud. I was at a point in my career where all I honestly wanted to do was educate, build relationships, and focus on growing our clients’ businesses. Not manage a team. Not sit in more meetings. Just do the work I was made for. From that day forward, once I accepted something she had known about me all along, I was completely at peace with my role and my place in this growing organization. It’s a strange kind of gift, having someone see you more clearly than you see yourself, and having the humility to admit it to you honestly instead of just letting you keep guessing.
Full Circle
That journey has come full circle in a way that still catches me off guard some days. I’ve gone from being one of several people on a sales team, to being — at one point — the only salesperson at the company, to now being back on a growing team again. And watching our MRR climb the way it has, blowing past numbers that felt like pipe dreams just three years ago, watching it keep climbing month over month with no sign of slowing down, I’ve never been more proud to be part of what we’re building here.
I’ve also gotten to see, over these years, what our work actually does out in the world, and that has changed how I think about my own job. I’m not the owner of this company. I don’t have equity or a stake in it in that sense. But I’ve watched what we do — the strategy, the websites, the campaigns, the countless hours of figuring out how to help a home service contractor compete and grow — actually change people’s lives. I’ve sat across from contractors who were exhausted, who were doing everything by instinct and elbow grease and a phone number scribbled on the side of a work van, and I’ve watched them, a year or two later, running a business that finally reflects the quality of the work they’ve always done. I’ve watched family-owned companies that were on the edge of closing their doors find a second wind. I’ve seen owners who were working eighty-hour weeks finally hire the office help they needed because the phone was finally ringing enough to justify it. That is an extraordinarily rewarding thing to be part of, and it’s not something I take for granted, even in the middle of a busy week when it’s easy to get lost in proposals and deadlines and forget what all of it adds up to.
That’s what motivates me now, nine years in. Not a title. Not recognition. Just the fact that I get to show up, suit up, and contribute to something that is genuinely making a difference for the people we serve — and that I get to do it under someone who has never stopped pushing to be better, and who has never stopped trying to make the people around her better too. There’s a version of this story where Jennifer builds a successful agency and just protects that success, plays it safe, keeps doing the thing that’s already working. That’s not the version I’ve lived. The version I’ve lived is one where she keeps asking what’s next, keeps looking past this year’s results toward what the industry is going to need three years from now, and keeps pulling the rest of us along with her, whether we’re ready for it or not.
When I think back to that trade show in Houston, sitting at a table next to a woman I’d just met, hearing her say, almost as a throwaway line, “you gotta work for me” — I don’t think either of us fully understood what we were setting in motion. I certainly didn’t. I was comfortable. I wasn’t looking for anything. But a year and a half later, when I picked up the phone and called her, I was ready, and she didn’t hesitate. She hired me on the spot and had a contract in my inbox before the day was out. That kind of decisiveness, that willingness to bet on people, is the same quality that has driven every version of this company I’ve watched her build since — the same instinct that made her confident enough to hire someone with zero marketing experience and zero HVAC background, and the same instinct that has, time and again, told her when it was time to tear up a good process in favor of a better one.
Nine Years
Nine years. Nearly a decade of watching Jennifer refuse to sit still, refuse to get comfortable, refuse to let good enough be good enough. Nine years of learning, sometimes the hard way, that her instincts about where this industry is headed are almost always right — and that when I trust that instinct and move with her instead of against her, it works. Nine years of watching a genuinely brilliant, genuinely humble person build a company that leads rather than follows, and do it while still finding the time and the generosity to invest in the people around her, to hear them out when they disagree with her, and to admit it plainly on the occasions she gets something wrong.
I don’t need my name on anything for this to matter to me. I don’t need to be the one standing up front. What I need — what I actually care about — is that this company keeps doing what it’s doing, that our clients keep getting the kind of results that change their businesses, and that I get to keep being part of building that, quietly, in whatever way I’m useful. That’s enough for me. That’s always been enough for me.
I’m excited for the next chapter, whatever it looks like, because if the last nine years have taught me anything, it’s that Jennifer is never done building. This coming October will mark nine years since I signed that contract, nine years since I bet everything on a promise made over the phone by someone I’d known for a year and a half. It is, without question, the best bet I have ever made. And I feel privileged to keep building alongside her for however many years come next.
In all my years working for her, not once has she steered us down the wrong path.
— Clay Howard (J. Clayton Howard, Jr.), Sr. Director of Business Development, July 2026
Camille Porco's arrived the same day. Camille runs digital marketing strategy for the agency, and she has told me the truth at full volume since her first month here — as you are about to see. Exactly as she sent it:
Camille Porco
Sr. Director of Digital Marketing Strategy
To start my CIWG journey off, it begins when I was first interviewing. And the funny thing is, I got turned down for the job, which took me by total surprise. I remember thinking, well, that's that. And then about a week later, Melanie from HR calls me up and says something like, "So, I know I told you we were moving forward with another candidate… but we'd actually like to move forward with you too." Which is a wild sentence to receive. Looking back now, I think it's a very fitting plot twist.
Initially, I was a little suspicious. The company website at the time looked like it was designed in a high school class… like, full Photoshop-clip-art energy. I remember thinking, is this company even real? Is this too good to be true? But the more time I spent here, the more I got it: we were so laser-focused on our clients that we genuinely just… never got around to making ourselves look good. The brand took a backseat because the work never did. Kind of a backwards flex, but I'll take it.
Since then, I've been through multiple role changes and multiple restructures, not the "one big glow-up" story, more like several plot twists back to back. We move fast here. Like, sometimes uncomfortably fast. That means long hours figuring out a new role, a new process, a new piece of tech, while you're still holding the last one together with duct tape. There have been more than a few times I've had to physically get up from my home office, walk outside, plant my bare feet in the grass, and just breathe for a second before going back in. Very "corporate employee discovers grounding techniques," but hey, it works.
I remember one of my first meetings with Jenn, I spoke up about something I thought was dumb and could be done better, which is very on-brand for me, since I've always been blunt and said what's on my mind, sometimes to a fault. To my surprise, she genuinely appreciated the feedback and was completely open to hearing my point of view and talking through how to improve it. That was maybe my first month at CIWG, and it set the tone for everything after. Ever since, I've felt confident and comfortable being completely transparent, with her, and with everyone else here.
So with all of that (the chaos, the restructures, the grass therapy sessions) here's the actual why behind why I keep showing up and working as hard as I do: I believe in the vision. I believe in Jennifer. And I've seen, firsthand, what this work actually does in our clients' lives and businesses. That's not a line, that's the thing that keeps me here. I want to help people be successful, and I genuinely care, probably too much, if I'm being honest, about every single one of our clients. That care is exactly what makes the hard days worth it.
Honestly, the hardest part hasn't been the job itself, it's been learning where the line is at home. There are still nights my wife has to physically tell me to put the laptop or the phone down and be present with her. I'm lucky she's as patient and understanding as she is, because she's the one who actually keeps me showing up, for her, and for myself.
If I had to sum it all up: it's been one of the most beautiful, fun, eye-opening, exhausting, psychotic things I've ever done. All of that, at the same time. And honestly? I'd take this ride, gray hairs and all, over an easy one that didn't mean anything. Every. Single. Time.
I'd take this ride, gray hairs and all, over an easy one that didn't mean anything. Every. Single. Time.
— Camille Porco, July 2026
And then Rose's arrived — and Rose's entry could only have been written by Rose, because nobody else has watched this company from the inside twice. She was there in 2008, when the whole company fit inside one small office. She left in 2013, built a career in civil engineering, raised three boys — and came back to the AI-era company to work beside me again, when we were still more than a hundred people. She has watched us right-size by more than half from the inside since. She told me she cried writing this, and her kids came in to ask if she was okay. “I'm just so happy,” she told them — and cried some more. The longest arc in this section, exactly as she sent it:
Rose Villarreal
Executive Assistant to Jennifer Bagley
I've been trying to figure out how to write this because my story with CI Web Group doesn't start this year…or even last year.
It started almost twenty years ago.
I first joined CI Web Group back in 2008. At the time it was Jennifer, Chris, Kathy, myself and a few other guys. That was the entire team.
Before that, I had spent about five years in the oilfield industry. I started there right out of high school and moved away from home when I was just 22 years old. I wore every hat imaginable—administration, dispatching trucks, inventory management across five locations, training warehouse teams on new inventory software—you name it. Then the economy changed overnight. We went from managing more than 130 rigs to about 10 in what felt like the blink of an eye, and eventually I lost my job.
A mutual friend introduced me to Jennifer, and when I showed up for the interview, I honestly thought I had the wrong place. It was a small office tucked away, nothing like the busy corporate environment I had just come from. Working for a small company—especially one like this—was completely outside of what I knew. I remember looking around thinking, “Well…this is different.” I'll admit, I was a little skeptical. But I had just lost my job, so I was open to taking a chance.
Looking back now, I almost let first impressions get in the way of one of the best decisions of my life.
If someone had told me that this small office would one day become a company helping businesses navigate AI and employing more than 100 people, I probably would've laughed.
I Started by Answering Phones
I started by answering phones and helping customers. As Jennifer's speaking opportunities grew, so did the business. Before I knew it, she looked at me and basically said, “Rose, you're going to learn how to build websites.”
So…I did.
Back then it was all WordPress. I built website after website after website. Medical clinics. HVAC companies. Dentists. Music producers. Even gentlemen's clubs. My favorite part? We built a website for a strip club and then immediately built one for a church. We laughed so hard about that because, honestly, work was work.
We eventually outgrew that little office and moved into a bigger one, which felt like such a huge accomplishment. Then, because Jennifer has never been one to spend money unless she absolutely had to, we eventually ended up working from her house. Looking back now, it wasn't about being cheap—it was about being smart. Every dollar she saved went right back into building the company.
The thing is…Jennifer wasn't just my boss.
She watched me grow up.
My twenties were messy. I went through some really hard seasons, and Jennifer was there for a lot of them. I remember helping take Torel to school. She helped me when I became a mom. We weren't just coworkers—we did life together.
Eventually life took me in another direction, and in 2013 I left CI Web Group. I spent years working in civil engineering, learning new skills and growing professionally.
Fast Forward to Today
Fast forward to today.
Life changed again.
My husband's job meant he would be traveling for weeks at a time, and I needed something that fit our family's schedule with three boys, soccer practices, tournaments, school, and everything in between.
One day, while sitting at soccer practice, I messaged Jennifer. I had been following everything she was building and simply asked if she had anything available.
She told me she might have something toward the end of the year. Then came months of waiting. Meetings got rescheduled, plans kept changing, and I honestly started wondering if she'd forgotten our conversation. Meanwhile, my husband had already accepted his new job, and I was quietly panicking. But deep down, I knew Jennifer. If she said she'd keep me in mind, she would.
Then one day, it wasn't Jennifer who reached out.
It was her Chief of Staff, Melanie.
That alone told me everything I needed to know about how much things had changed. The Jennifer I worked with years ago would've called me herself. Now she had built something so much bigger that her Chief of Staff was the one reaching out. I remember thinking, “Wow…look at what she's built.”
When I officially started and finally got to catch up with Jennifer, the first thing I said was, “Damn…I have to work with you just to talk to you now!” We both started laughing because it was so true.
Walking Back In
Walking back into CI Web Group after all those years was surreal. The company I left had six people. The company I came back to had more than 100. That blew me away—not because I ever doubted Jennifer, but because I knew exactly how much it took to build it. I had seen parts of that journey most people never will.
I remember times when money was tight. Jennifer made sure every one of us got paid before she paid herself. At the time, I don't think I fully appreciated what that meant. Looking back now, as a mom with a family of my own, I realize the weight she was carrying while making sure ours stayed off our shoulders.
Seeing where she is today makes me incredibly proud.
Working here now is completely different.
First of all…Jennifer is a full-time job all by herself. 😂
Back then I sat right next to her. If she forgot something, I reminded her. If she missed a meeting, I could literally wave at her. Now we're remote. If she doesn't answer my call, I'm texting…then calling…and if that doesn't work, I'm calling Hicklen — her husband.
The biggest difference isn't just the company—it's the technology.
If I hadn't come back to work with Jennifer, AI probably would've meant ChatGPT to me—and that would've been about it.
Now I feel like I'm drinking from a fire hose every single day.
Twenty years ago Jennifer looked at me and said, “Rose, you're going to build websites.” Today she's saying, “Rose…we're building AI.” It feels overwhelming sometimes, but then I remember…I've been here before.
Jennifer has always had a way of seeing where the world is going before everyone else does. She pushed me into websites before I ever imagined building one. Today she's pushing all of us toward AI.
So I'll keep learning.
I'll keep showing up.
Because that's what this company has always taught me to do.
Some people come into your life for a season. Jennifer has somehow been part of almost every chapter of mine.
You Showed Up Twice
Jennifer…
Looking back now, I don't think you even realize the impact you've had on my life.
You became one of the people who helped shape the woman I became.
Thank you.
You didn't just give me a job twice.
You gave me stability twice.
The first time, I needed someone to believe in a 22-year-old who had just lost my job and was trying to figure out what came next.
The second time, I needed someone to believe in a mom trying to hold everything together while raising three boys, juggling soccer practices, tournaments, school schedules, and supporting a husband working out of town.
Both times…you showed up.
Somewhere in South Dakota
As I'm finishing writing this, I'm sitting in the passenger seat somewhere in South Dakota, headed to Blaine, Minnesota, where my son will spend the week playing in the USA Cup soccer tournament.
It hit me that this is exactly why I came back.
I didn't come back just because I needed a job. I came back because I wanted a life that let me be present for the people who matter most.
Who would've thought I'd be able to travel across the country with my family while still doing work I love?
Certainly not me.
Twenty years ago, I thought success meant sitting in an office from 8 to 5.
Today, success looks a little different.
It looks like answering emails from a hotel room, taking meetings between soccer games, working from the road, and still being present for one of the biggest moments in my son's life.
That's a gift this company has given me, and one I don't take for granted.
Watching your dream become the company you always talked about building has been one of the greatest privileges of my career. I got to see the little office days, the office days, the working-from-your-house days, and now the AI days.
Turns out…that little office wasn't the wrong place after all.
I walked in looking for a job.
I walked out with a career, a mentor, and a lifelong friend—I just didn't know it yet.
I walked in looking for a job. I walked out with a career, a mentor, and a lifelong friend — I just didn't know it yet.
— Rose Villarreal, Executive Assistant to Jennifer Bagley, July 2026
Melanie's arrived next — and if you have read this book carefully, you have already met her twice without knowing it. She is the Chief of Staff Rose mentioned a few pages ago, the one whose call told Rose “how much things had changed.” She was hired as our Director of HR. Watching what she became has been one of the joys of my career: she found her voice. She learned to code. Marketing, interviews, hard conversations, a new language — she engaged every single corner of this business, down into the roots, and motivated the people in every one of them while she did it.
And she changed me as well. She challenges me. She gets on my ass. She makes me slow down when slowing down is the last thing I want to do. She is my eyes and ears in the organization, and she jumps in anywhere when I need to focus somewhere — knowing that somewhere and anywhere can change in the blink of an eye. She has been beside me through the most difficult parts of this business — legal, financial, people — and she has learned the intricate details of how my brain operates, ebbing and flowing with me, available on a Sunday, or at 1 a.m. on a Tuesday, to brainstorm. If this book has a definition of Chief of Staff, it is her. Exactly as she sent it:
Building the Machine
Systems without soul is a vending machine. Soul without systems does not scale. Melanie and Liz are two of the people who turned that sentence into operations — Chief of Staff discipline and Hydra design that builds the boat instead of fighting the current.
Melanie Osio
Chief of Staff
Building the Company That Builds You — by Melanie Osio
When I joined CI Web Group, I was hired as Director of HR.
I stopped being HR a long time ago.
Nobody handed me a new job description. The company kept evolving, and I evolved with it. Today my title is Chief of Staff, but the real story is everything that happened in between.
Before CI Web Group, I came from ad tech. The work was fast, data driven, and built for scale, but somewhere along the way I'd lost the connection between what I was building and the people it affected. Here, every system we improve helps a contractor grow a business, hire another technician, support another family. That changes how you approach your work — and it's a big part of why I stayed through everything that came next.
When our CFO departed, someone had to keep the finances running. That someone turned out to be me. I'm not a finance person, and I didn't pretend to become one. I worked alongside our fractional bookkeeper, took over managing what the CFO had managed, and put systems in place so the financial side of the business could keep moving. I never became the expert. What I learned is that you don't always have to be — you have to be willing to sit in the seat, ask the questions, and build the structure until things run without you.
When we shifted systems and built a few of our own, I could have watched from the sidelines. HR doesn't build websites. But I wanted to understand what this company was actually building, how it worked, and what we needed to do to succeed. So I learned alongside the tech team, and I built the front end of a few websites myself. Not expert work — but enough to speak the language, enough to understand what our team lives every day. I'm on all the production calls now, not just the people-related ones, because you can't help lead a company you only understand from one department's view.
Somewhere in all of that, a lesson took hold: your job isn't something you protect. It's something you improve until it no longer needs to exist in its current form. Then you help build what's next.
That sounds exciting on paper. Living it is harder. There were weeks I questioned whether I could keep up, and days that felt like rebuilding the airplane mid-flight. The speed here is real. It forces decisions before you feel ready, exposes weaknesses quickly, and demands you learn faster than you thought you could. Through all of it, I tried to be the person who kept spirits high on the team — partly because they needed it, and partly, if I'm honest, because I did too.
But growth rarely feels comfortable while it's happening. Every one of those uncomfortable stretches was quietly turning me into someone who could handle problems that would have overwhelmed an earlier version of me. Confidence, I've learned, arrives after you've done the difficult thing. Not before.
Working alongside Jennifer changed how I think about leadership. Leaders aren't there to preserve what exists. They're there to challenge assumptions, question what no longer serves the mission, and rebuild even when what's already there is good. Watching her do that — and being pushed to do it myself — rewired the question I ask every day. It's no longer “How do I do my job better?” It's “How do I build a company that doesn't depend on me doing this job forever?”
I'm proud of the systems we've built, the problems we've solved, and the people we've grown. But that's not what I'll remember most. I'll remember becoming someone more adaptable, more resilient, and more willing to step into uncertainty than I ever thought I was.
I joined to help build a company.
Somewhere along the way, the company started building me too.
Your job isn't something you protect. It's something you improve until it no longer needs to exist in its current form. Then you help build what's next.
— Melanie Osio, Chief of Staff, CI Web Group, July 2026
And then Liz's arrived — and Liz's is the longest continuous education this company has ever given one person, because she started at eighteen and she is still here. She is Torel's wife, Dallas's mother, my daughter-in-law, and the senior Hydra OS web designer who builds the sites our customers actually see. Chapter Two already told you how she came into this family. What follows is the story she wanted the reader to have in her own words — the Blockbuster years, the bed where I stroked her hair, Webflow, Hydra, and the living-room boat plans drawn with a newborn in her arms. Exactly as she sent it:
Liz Slone
Sr. Hydra OS Web Designer
Build the Boat — by Liz Slone
I was born into an overlap.
My childhood happened in that strange in-between where two worlds existed at the same time and nobody thought it was weird. We had a VCR under the TV and a landline "home" phone on the wall. Friday nights meant a run to Blockbuster, walking the aisles and hoping the movie you wanted hadn't already been rented out. Road trips started at the family computer, printing directions off MapQuest and folding them into the glovebox like treasure maps. That was normal. That was just how life worked.
And at the exact same time, in the exact same years, Apple was releasing its first iPhone. Netflix was quietly transitioning from mailing you DVDs that you picked up out of your mailbox to streaming whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it. My schools went from teaching us how to format a Word document on old Windows 98 desktops and sending us home with a paper "packet" to handing out Chromebooks with an entire semester's curriculum at our fingertips.
Nobody sat us down and said, "you are living through a transition." It didn't feel historic. It felt like Tuesday. The old world and the new world overlapped so completely that you couldn't see the seam. Then one day Blockbuster was gone and nobody mourned it, because we were already somewhere else.
If you had asked that kid what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would have told you something in the medical field. I was intensely interested in diseases and illnesses. Why did they exist? How did they spread? How did we treat them? I could get lost for hours in questions like that. I didn't want to just know facts. I wanted to understand the machinery underneath them, the way one small invisible thing could move through a population and change everything it touched.
I thought that curiosity meant I was supposed to be in medicine. It took me years to realize the curiosity itself was the point, and that it would end up aimed at something no career quiz ever offered me.
I didn't know it at the time, but that childhood overlap was training. My entire career has been lived inside that same seam, the place where one world is ending and another is starting and everyone is too busy surviving the week to notice history happening around them. I've spent almost ten years at CI Web Group now, and every chapter of it has been some version of that Friday night at Blockbuster: standing in one era while the next one loads quietly in the background.
Eighteen
To explain how an eighteen year old ends up at a company like CI Web Group, I have to back up a little further, because the real beginning of this story isn't a job application. It's a boy I met in high school.
His name was Torel. We were high school sweethearts, the kind of thing adults smile at politely because they assume it won't last. It lasted. He is my husband now and the father of my child, but at the time he was just the person I wanted to be around more than anyone else. And Torel came with something I didn't fully understand yet: his mother, Jennifer, who had built a company called CI Web Group.
Jennifer invested in me. I want to be precise about that word, because it's the right one. She didn't just give her son's girlfriend a job to be nice. She looked at a lost teenager and decided I was worth betting on before I had given the world any evidence that I was. I started working at CI Web Group when I was eighteen, right before I graduated high school. My job, on paper, was manual data entry and optimizing Facebook business accounts for customers. In less fancy terms: I was making sure businesses had all of their account fields filled out. Hours, address, description, categories. It was not glamorous. It was a starting line.
Here's the truth about who I was at eighteen, and I'm going to say it plainly because I've earned the right to: I was not equipped for life. My life constantly felt like it was on the edge of falling apart, and the uncomfortable fact is that most of the time, nothing was actually wrong. The problem was me. I fell apart at the smallest inconvenience. A schedule change. A hard conversation. A bad day. Any of it could level me, because I had never learned to steer myself. I let every emotion drive while I rode along in the passenger seat of my own life. The world felt large in a scary way, not because the world was out to get me, but because I had built nothing sturdy in myself to meet it with. I was lost, and I knew it, and knowing it didn't change it. Awareness without ownership is just watching yourself drown.
I remember one day in particular. I was inconsolable. Nothing catastrophic had happened. It was a bunch of small things that had added up, the way they always did back then, because I let them. I ended up lying in Jennifer's bed while she stroked my hair, and she said one small thing to me that changed everything.
"You can choose to be happy."
For some reason, I had never once thought about it that way. My whole life, I had allowed my emotions to control me instead of the other way around, and I had never questioned it. It hadn't even occurred to me that there was another way to live. And here was this woman telling me, gently, while I fell apart in her bed, that I had a choice in the matter. That I could take ownership of my own inner life. My emotions, my thoughts, my feelings. Mine to steer.
I don't share this to inject vulnerability into the story for its own sake. I share it because you cannot understand CI Web Group, or anything that comes later in these pages, without understanding what Jennifer actually does. Yes, she shapes the future of an industry. But she also shapes the future in a quieter way: she inspires people to get out of their own way. Her leadership is built around taking the leap, again and again, whether or not the fear ever goes away. The lesson I absorbed from her wasn't "don't be afraid." It was this: if you're afraid, do it afraid.
I've been doing it afraid ever since.
The Wrench
Over the next year, Torel, Allula, and I transitioned into optimizing brand new websites for on-page SEO. New skills, new responsibility, the first of many reinventions. I was learning how search engines think, how a page gets found, how structure and content and intent all fit together. Looking back, it scratched the same itch as those childhood disease questions. Why does this work? How does it spread? What happens if you change one variable?
Meanwhile, in my other life, I was in college for dental hygiene. On paper it made perfect sense. It was medical-adjacent, stable, respectable, exactly the kind of practical version of my childhood curiosity that a guidance counselor would approve of. And I was miserable. I had always loved school. I loved learning, loved being good at it, loved the feeling of a subject opening up in front of me. This wasn't that. This wasn't fulfilling me. I despised it. But I kept going anyway, because that's what you do, right? You pick a path and you stay on it.
Then Torel invited me to join a trip to Spain with his family.
I had never left the country. I wanted to go desperately. And the wrench in all of it was finals. I had to be in Seattle, sitting in a classroom, proving I could pass exams for a career I already knew I hated, while the person I loved was on the other side of the ocean living a life I was only hearing about in phone calls.
So I stayed. He went to Spain. I took my finals.
He got back from his trip. I finished my first year of college. And I made a decision in that moment that changed the trajectory of everything: I wanted freedom, and I dropped out. I would not miss out again.
People love to frame dropping out as giving up, and I braced myself for that reaction. It never came. The people around me encouraged it. They celebrated it. In a world of self-made human beings, walking away from a path that was crushing me was not something to be discouraged. It was the first brave thing anyone had watched me do. Nobody in that family was going to shame me for choosing my own life; they had all done the same thing, in their own ways, at their own crossroads.
It was still terrifying. I did it afraid.
The Shift You Can Feel
A couple of years later, COVID hit. It was the kind of world-changing event where you can feel the shift in history in real time, like the floor tilting under your feet.
I remember exactly where I was. Torel and I were in the sauna at the gym when Jennifer called, warning us about some sort of illness going around. We were in our early twenties, and in true early-twenties fashion, we did not believe it would make an impact on our lives. We sat there sweating, invincible, humoring her. The kid who once spent hours reading about how diseases spread somehow could not imagine one actually reaching her.
A week later, everything was shut down.
With that much uncertainty in the air, we packed up and left for Houston to stay with Mike and Jenn while we figured out what the hell was going on. What was supposed to be a stopgap turned into a chapter of its own. We stayed until 2022, and honestly, we enjoyed that time tremendously. Bike rides. Pool swims. Time with family while the rest of the world felt like it was holding its breath. In the middle of global chaos, we found a rhythm. And when the chapter closed, it closed the way I never could have predicted at eighteen: in February of 2022, Torel and I purchased our first home in Seattle, in the city where I grew up. The girl who fell apart at the smallest inconvenience was now a homeowner who had weathered a pandemic.
Work transformed just as completely. CI Web Group pulled everyone in from travel. In-person events were at a standstill. The whole playbook of trade shows, conferences, and handshakes evaporated overnight. And in the middle of all of that, I made one of the biggest transitions of my career: I moved from back end work to forward facing, working directly with our customers on their website strategy.
That meant that for the first time, I got to hear every single one of their challenges in real time, unfiltered. People didn't want to come to work. Supply shortages and bottlenecks were choking businesses from one side. And simultaneously, their customers, everyone's customers, were stuck at home, staring at the four walls of a house that had suddenly become their office, their school, their gym, and their entire world. They wanted a comfortable, safe space, and they were willing to pay a premium for it.
I was watching, in real time, an entire industry get handed a moment. The businesses that stayed curious and adapted were drowning in demand. The ones that froze got left behind. I have never forgotten that split.
Because here's what I believe, and it's the thread that runs through everything in this chapter: in a world where technology is constantly changing and evolving, regardless of whatever else is happening on the planet, only those who remain curious and insist on resilience despite setbacks will survive the velocity. I don't mean that in a morbid, literal way. I mean it in the way a dandelion grows between the cracks in the concrete. Pressure from both sides. Feet everywhere threatening to stomp it out. And it still insists on seeing the sun.
The Ordeal
Then came Webflow.
CI Web Group went through the painful transition of Webflow, and I want to be honest about it: it was brutal. WordPress was just not an option anymore. The writing was on the wall for anyone willing to read it. And at the time, Webflow was the gold standard. They had acquired Intellimize, a platform that used AI to A/B test and make changes based on data, and you could see where the whole thing was heading.
But knowing you're right doesn't make the transition hurt any less.
Try to picture what this actually meant. Forcing a massive change on developers who were comfortable on WordPress, and not comfortable in a lazy way, but comfortable in the way of people who had spent years mastering a craft and were now being told to set it down. Training an entire team not just to use a brand new platform but to discuss it, to explain to customers why the move made sense. Trying to educate an entire industry that had been sold WordPress for decades on why staying put was the real risk. And doing all of it while the naysayers stood around waiting for us to fail.
The pressure was intense. We had a full pipeline of websites that still had to ship. We were learning new tools daily. Creating new processes from scratch. Training hundreds of people. Investing hundreds of thousands of dollars into a transition with no guarantee. Changing entire mindsets, rethinking everything we thought we knew about how our own work got done.
If you asked me for the low point, it wasn't one dramatic crash or one call that went badly. It was quieter and heavier than that. It was the stretch where the pipeline was so full that it genuinely felt like we would never get through it, while at the same time we were rebuilding our technology and our processes underneath ourselves midflight, because protecting our customers was not negotiable. Imagine changing the engine on a plane without landing it, while every passenger deserves and expects a smooth ride. We would solve one bottleneck and another would pop up in its place. Some days the finish line didn't just feel far away. It felt fictional.
And I would do it all over again.
Because I truly believe Webflow was our catalyst. It was our kick in the ass. It was our ordeal, that moment in every story where you're given a choice to sink or swim, and the choice reveals who you actually are. We were swimming like hell.
Then, just as we found our rhythm and our footing with Webflow, OpenAI and Anthropic started dropping bombs.
Suddenly we were being handed tools that let us work faster and more efficiently than we'd ever imagined. We got a taste of what it felt like to have the burden eased. Actually eased, not just shuffled around. And that taste didn't make us complacent. It made us hungry. We were inspired.
And from that inspiration, Hydra was born.
The Elephant in the Room
Before we dive into the beast that was, and is, Hydra, I need to stop and acknowledge the elephant in the room.
On February 3rd, 2025, I found out that Torel and I were going to have a baby, due in October.
The boy from high school, the Spain trip I missed, the sauna where we ignored a pandemic together, the house in Seattle: all of it had been leading here. We were going to be parents. I was overjoyed and terrified in equal measure, which by that point in my life felt familiar. Do it afraid applies to more than career moves.
The pipeline was still full of Webflow websites, a backlog of sites making their way through our transition. We would solve one bottleneck and another would pop up in its place, like a game of whack-a-mole where the moles were deadlines. And the pressure was high to get those sites out before I had to leave the team to figure it out without me.
Here's the funny thing about CI Web Group: if you take even a week away, the entire company is different by the time you get back. System improvements. Platform improvements. Changes to the entire technology and marketing landscape. You name it. A week is a lifetime here.
I was preparing to take three months off. With a brand new baby. As a first-time mom.
I was shitting my pants. Because by the time my due date arrived, we were already in the infancy of Hydra, the most significant thing we had ever built, and to leave right then was a risk. I knew that when I came back, I wouldn't be walking. I'd be sprinting just to catch up.
On October 19th, 2025, our son was born. And a whole new slew of fears set in.
The normal first-time parent anxiety was there, ever present. Is he breathing, is he eating, am I doing any of this right. But layered on top of it was something bigger. Picture the scene: I'm sitting in Jennifer's living room with a newborn, hallucinating on two and a half hours of sleep, and around me the conversations are all about AI. How fast it was moving. How the models seemed to leap forward every few months instead of every few years. What it meant that machines could now write and reason and build. What work would even look like in five years, in ten. What our industry would look like. What every industry would look like. I would drift in and out of the newborn fog and catch pieces of it, and every piece pointed at the same conclusion: the ground was moving again, faster than it had ever moved before.
And this time it wasn't just my career on the table. I was holding the stakes in my arms. These were conversations about things that I believed would change the entire landscape of my son's future. Not my industry's future. Not my company's future. His.
There's a detail here that I need you to sit with, because it's the heart of this whole story. The woman leading those conversations was not just my boss. She was my mother-in-law. The newborn in my arms was her grandson. Three generations of one family were in that living room, and the oldest of us was looking at the youngest of us and deciding, in real time, what to do about the world he would inherit. I could tell by the look on Jennifer's face that she was thinking exactly what I was thinking.
The way she saw it, there were two options. We could scoff and ignore that the world was changing, that yet again technology was evolving underneath us. Or we could prepare for it. We couldn't fight the current. So we'd build a boat.
When my maternity leave ended and I returned in January of 2026, the boat was small, but it was there. And I was determined not to be left behind. I followed the senior development team around like a shadow. I listened to everything they said. I practiced and researched and did not stop until I understood. My days were filled with "why" and "how," the same two questions I used to aim at diseases as a kid, now aimed at a technology spreading through the world faster than anything I'd ever studied. Why does this work? How does it move? What happens if you change one variable? The curiosity I thought was supposed to make me a medical professional turned out to be the exact tool I needed for this moment.
I threw away everything I thought I knew. I rebuilt from the ground up and completely trashed my ego in the process, which, it turns out, is the price of admission for every real transformation. The ego goes first or nothing goes at all.
Jennifer asked me one day if I thought this transition was harder than Webflow. My honest answer was no.
Did we still have a full pipeline going into summer, just like we did during the Webflow transition? Yes. Did we still have to learn entirely new technology and reframe everything we thought we knew? Yes. Did we literally just finish doing this same kind of transition a year ago? Yes.
So what was different this time?
Our team. Our mindset. Our experience. Our utter determination to be ready this time.
Webflow taught us how to survive an ordeal. AI arrived and found us already swimming.
Hydra
So. Hydra was born.
We named it Hydra for a reason. Cut off one of its heads and it grows three more. That's not just mythology to us. That's our company culture, distilled into a single image. Every setback we've ever taken has multiplied us. Every head we've lost, we've grown back stronger and stranger and harder to kill. Naming the platform anything else would have been a lie.
And here's what Hydra actually is, because it matters: Hydra is not your website. Hydra is an operating system that learns your business and deploys changes based on data. It's everything behind the scenes. The thinking, the testing, the adjusting, the relentless iteration that used to take teams of humans weeks and now happens continuously. The website is just the part you can see. Hydra is the part that never sleeps.
I'm writing this while we are still in the midst of Hydra's evolution, and I need to be honest with you: I do not believe Hydra will ever be done. What we knew last week has already changed. What was available to us yesterday has already been improved upon. That's not a flaw in the plan. That is the plan.
These days I build and design sites myself. The girl who started out filling in Facebook business fields now builds the thing customers actually see, and I help evolve our AI tools, the things they never see. But what I want to tell you about isn't my job description. It's the people. Many of the people on our AI team have grown into human beings who weather storms and keep rowing for the love of the game. They care. They are curious. They want more. They are dandelions, every one of them.
To Whoever Is Reading This
Those fears about my son's future are still there. What will he do? What will the world look like when he's old enough to ask me what I did during all of this?
But then I look around, and I know: if we do this right, if we keep pushing, he will be just fine.
He has a father who chose me when we were teenagers and has been choosing our family ever since. He has a grandmother who looked at a world tilting on its axis and started drawing up boat plans in her living room. He has an entire team of curious, storm-weathered people building the future he'll grow up in. And he has a mother who was once so afraid of the world that a schedule change could level her, and who now runs toward the things that scare her, because a woman stroking her hair in a quiet bedroom once told her that happiness was a choice.
Because here's the thing I finally understand, sitting in the seam of yet another transition. The world I was born into, the Blockbuster runs, the MapQuest printouts, the landline on the wall, didn't end because anyone defeated it. It ended because curious people kept building the next thing while everyone else insisted the old thing was fine. My son is being born into his own overlap, the way I was born into mine. There will be a version of Blockbuster in his childhood that vanishes before he's grown, and he won't mourn it either, because he'll already be somewhere else.
I can't tell you what the tools will be called in ten years. Whatever we're using now will sound as quaint as a printed MapQuest page. The transition you're in the middle of, whoever you are, whenever you're reading this, will feel impossible. It's supposed to. Ours did too. Every single one.
So this is what I want to leave here, for my son, for my team, for whoever picks this up long after Hydra has grown heads we haven't imagined yet:
Stay curious. Insist on resilience. Trash your ego before the world does it for you. When the current comes, and it will keep coming, don't waste your strength fighting it. Build the boat.
And if you're afraid?
Do it afraid.
When the current comes, and it will keep coming, don't waste your strength fighting it. Build the boat.
— Liz Slone, Sr. Hydra OS Web Designer, CI Web Group, July 2026
MaryJo Mickalich's Why belongs here. MaryJo is Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager at CI Web Group — the seat that oversees the design-and-engineering pipeline as the company moved from Webflow months to Hydra weeks (and, in some instances, a week). Her words below are exactly as she sent them.
Carrying It Forward
The next chapter of CI Web Group will be run by people who choose to be pushed. MaryJo writes from Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations — failing forward on purpose.
MaryJo Mickalich
Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager
CI Web Group · Why
My name is MaryJo Mickalich, and I'm the Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager at CI Web Group. I come from Houghton, a very small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. If you want to understand why I'm here at CI Web Group, you have to understand that I've never been a follower. I've never followed the crowd, and I've never liked to listen or follow rules. I was the kid who laughed when my mom tried to put rules in place or tried to ground me. I wasn't the kid that could be peer-pressured into drinking or doing drugs in high school — I had no interest in following the crowd. I always did what I decided I wanted to do, not what anyone else was doing. That independence has shaped every part of my life, and my career most of all.
Even back in high school I knew what I wanted out of my career: to work from home, and to have real freedom over how my days were spent. When going to college, I chose Graphic Design as my major because I love being creative and because it felt like a field where working remotely might actually be possible. In 2015 I graduated from Finlandia University in Hancock, Michigan, with a Bachelor of Fine Arts and a concentration in Graphic Design.
Before CI Web Group, I worked as a Graphic Designer, a Marketing Manager, a Marketing Account Executive, and a Communications Designer at other companies. Through those experiences, I learned that I needed to be somewhere that wasn't stagnant, a place where I could see real potential for growth, and that I loved being able to use both sides of my brain in a role — using my creativity while also being in a leadership position. In 2020, my dream of working remotely came true. In May 2023, I was laid off from my Communications Designer role, and the job hunt began. I interviewed with CI Web Group and realized that this place wasn't like any other company I've worked for before. I was told I could forge my own path here, and I saw that this company had the freedom and growth opportunities I was looking for. I watched videos of Jenn and was sold — I wanted to work here. Once I was hired, I saw and experienced pretty quickly just how fast everything really moved. I went from Marketing Specialist to Creative Project Manager managing the Design Department in just a few months.
From Months to One Week
When I started my role as the Creative Project Manager, I managed the design phase of our websites. Our designers would take a few weeks to design a site, I'd hand it off to the development team, and it would take them a good while to build what the designers had created. The whole process took months. Now that we've switched gears and gone from Webflow sites to Hydra and using AI, it's insanely fast. In my current role as the Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager, I've seen that from the start of our onboarding process to a site going live, our team can do it within a week in some instances. And I believe this will continue to happen more frequently and become something our team delivers consistently very soon. In the beginning we definitely didn't have it all figured out or know what we were doing. We didn't have a perfect roadmap laid out for this transition. Our processes have changed so many times within the last eight months. All of us had to learn new tools, new skills, and most importantly a new way of thinking. We had to pivot and figure it out, over and over again. One of my favorite sayings is to fail forward — and that is what we do here.
Watching our team go from hundreds of people down to somewhere around forty was scary. I'd already been laid off once, so watching it happen around me definitely brought back some fear and anxiety. But rather than let it get to me, I let it drive me. It made me want to work harder, show up, lead, and prove that I was here, all in, and that I believed in the vision and where this company is going. And it's going fast — the speed is insane. Some days I feel like my head is going to spin off and I wish it would slow down a little — but at the same time, I love it. There's no room for complacency, and we are always being pushed.
If I'm ever given the choice, I'll take being pushed every single time. That is where the growth is. That is where you win.
Being Pushed
Being pushed is nothing new to me. I played sports in high school, and I had a basketball coach who was hard on us — I dreaded practice, but we won games and took home championship trophies. The next season I had a coach who was the fun one. I looked forward to practice because I knew I wouldn't be running killers or doing drills until I felt like I was going to barf. We weren't pushed — and we sucked. I honestly couldn't tell you if we won a single game that season. So if I'm ever given the choice, I'll take being pushed every single time. That is where the growth is. That is where you win. And that is exactly what I see Jenn preaching to the crowd — pushing her team and pushing business owners to make moves so that they win. Jenn is the coach who takes home championship trophies.
That same game taught me how I lead, too. I was Captain of the team — and not because I was good at basketball. My butt was on the bench watching everyone else play. I wasn't the star out there hitting three-pointers or getting handed MVP awards. But I was given the Heart Award and named Captain because I was just as valuable — with my voice, my attitude, and my willingness to show up every day, give it my all, and not quit. I learned at a young age that leadership isn't about being the biggest or the baddest. It's about attitude, effort, showing up for your team, and being someone people can count on and trust. Being a leader isn't easy. Sometimes you don't have all the answers; sometimes you don't know where the road is going to lead you and your team, or what unexpected bumps are coming. But as long as you have an all-or-nothing attitude, refuse to give up, and keep pushing forward — with a team behind you willing to trust and put in the work too — good things can and will happen. And that is what we have here. That is why this company is where it is and doing the things it's doing, and why it will go the places it's going to go.
The biggest thing I've learned about myself here with this team at CI Web Group is that you can throw anything at me and I will figure it out. I can pivot. I can adapt. I come from a small Midwestern town where change is hard — a lot of people don't like it, or don't think it's even doable. But I know change is good. It's necessary. Complacency is not something I ever want, in my career or in any part of my life. My own path here is proof of that. I went from taking notes and sending follow-up emails to clients to now being the Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager, getting to oversee an entire pipeline while also getting my hands wet in production by designing and building websites using AI. Getting to learn brand-new skills, challenge my way of thinking, keep growing, and use my creativity all at the same time — that is the kind of work I never want to stop doing.
Building With AI
Building with AI has been the craziest — and proudest — stretch we've been through since I've been here. It started with a massive shift: moving our websites off Webflow and onto Hydra. We're still in it, but we have a grasp on it now that we didn't have at the start. But I think we all know that with the speed technology moves at and how Jenn's brain never shuts off and is always coming up with new ideas and new solutions, we can never get too comfortable. We always need to be on our toes, ready to move. And that is why we've stayed ahead of the game in digital marketing for the trades industry — doing things and trying things no one else had done before. We don't have a playbook or a north star to follow. We just have to try and figure it out. And we are. We have a team of talented people who I learn from every day. There's Parker, who I've worked closely with for the last couple of years — truly a creative badass. All of our Vibers, who put in so much work for our huge pipeline of clients and do such an amazing job. Ryan and Hoda, who would take everything on and carry it on their backs if you asked them to. Chelsea, who's a walking book of knowledge and a great leader within our company. Chris, Braedn, Marcos, and Blake, who are all so technically smart that I have to ask AI to break down what they say in simpler terms for me. Camille and Jazmin, both great leaders who don't mess around and get shit done. All of our Account Managers and our Sales team on the front line, working with our clients day in and day out. I could truly go on about everyone here and all of the great things they do and the hard work they put in on a daily basis.
CI Web Group isn't following anyone — they're leading. We don't wait to see what everyone else does and copy it; we try the thing no one has tried yet.
That Is My Why
I'm so proud of our entire team — and that is my why. I'm here because I've never wanted the same day, doing the same thing, over and over again until I retire. I'm here because I'm with a team of people who share similar values to mine — we are giving it our all and not quitting. We aren't losers here. We are a team that likes to win, wants to win, and will figure out how to get it done — not only for ourselves but for the clients we serve every day, making sure they're winning. That their businesses are thriving. That their employees are able to lead happy and successful lives as well. I'm here because there's no ceiling above me. I'm not constrained to a strict rule book, and I know the possibilities are endless. And it turns out I landed at a company that doesn't like to follow the crowd or follow the rules either. CI Web Group isn't following anyone — they're leading. We don't wait to see what everyone else does and copy it; we try the thing no one has tried yet. I'm here because I'd rather be pushed. And I'm here because I love working with a leader like Jenn — and I say working with, not under. She's in the weeds with her entire team everyday, not sitting above anyone barking orders — and that is what a true leader is. Being part of this is a little crazy — it's like a fast roller coaster where you never know when the next turn is coming — and I wouldn't trade it. I'm extremely grateful that CI Web Group is going to forever be a part of my life story and journey, and that I get to be a part of theirs.
Buckle up. Hands up. Let's ride — I can't wait to see where this one goes.
— MaryJo Mickalich, Hydra OS Design and Engineering Operations Manager, CI Web Group · July 2026
And the transition keeps recruiting people who did not sign up for it. Stephanie Harris joined to run a CRM and schedule calls, and stayed to learn what it costs — and what it gives back — to find your own voice inside a company that will not sit still.
Stephanie Harris
Growth Operations Lead & Executive Assistant
Finding My Voice — by Stephanie Harris
My name is Stephanie Harris, and I’m the Growth Operations Lead and Executive Assistant at CI Web Group. I joined the company in January 2023, and when I first started, I was focused on learning the systems, supporting our clients, and helping create a smooth onboarding experience.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much this role would challenge me—not just professionally, but personally. I would learn about digital marketing, operations, adaptability, confidence, and the importance of finding my voice within a fast-paced and growing company.
When I joined CI Web Group, I thought I had a pretty good understanding of what my role would look like. I was hired to help manage our CRM platform, schedule calls between new clients and their Account Managers, and make sure everything was set up behind the scenes. I expected to spend my first few weeks quietly learning the ropes and supporting the team however I could.
What I didn’t realize was how much I was about to learn.
What Language Is She Speaking?
One of my first memories is joining a company-wide Zoom meeting with Jennifer. She welcomed me to the team, and as the meeting continued, she started talking about so many terms I had never heard before. I remember sitting there thinking, What language is she speaking?
I had just started, and I was trying to absorb everything while wondering, What is SEO? What is call tracking? What the heck does AWP mean? It was overwhelming, but it was also exciting because I quickly realized there was so much more to this industry than I had ever known—and I was about to learn a lot.
Then the conversation shifted to my department, and Jennifer began asking questions about the work I was responsible for. For a moment, I felt nervous. I was still learning, and I definitely didn’t feel like an expert.
Thankfully, I had already started learning from Miss Kathy, a true veteran of the company. She helped me understand the systems, processes, and foundation I needed to be successful. Because of what she had taught me, I was able to answer Jennifer’s questions. My answers weren’t delivered with complete confidence, but I answered them.
Looking back, that moment was important because it showed me something I didn’t realize at the time: I didn’t have to know everything on day one. I just had to be willing to learn.
I didn’t have to know everything on day one. I just had to be willing to learn.
Miss Kathy helped me understand the systems, but what I quickly learned was that this industry is constantly changing. Nothing stays the same for long. Technology evolves, processes change, and the needs of our clients continue to shift.
One thing that stood out to me early on was watching how quickly the company adapted. When challenges came up in the industry, including changes around WordPress and the legal issues affecting it, I watched everyone shift directions quickly. There wasn’t time to wait and hope things would resolve themselves. We had to adjust, find solutions, and continue moving forward.
That taught me one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned here: in order to support our clients and help them succeed, we have to be adaptable. Growth comes from being willing to learn, change, and keep moving forward.
Working from home has many perks. I appreciate the trust that comes with being able to do my job independently. I’ve always been someone who enjoys working quietly and behind the scenes. I like supporting others, solving problems, and making sure things run smoothly without needing to be the center of attention.
But Jennifer has a way of bringing people out of their comfort zones.
She trusts you enough to run your department, but she also counts on you to speak up, share your thoughts, and contribute. In the beginning, that was something I had to learn.
Speaking Up
If I had a question or noticed something that didn’t make sense, I would usually ask my coworkers first. I didn’t want to ask what I thought might be a “dumb question.” I wanted to make sure I understood things before bringing them up.
Then I realized something: if the people around me didn’t know the answer either, maybe it was a question worth asking in our team meetings.
So I started speaking up.
What I learned was that there is no such thing as a dumb question at CI Web Group. I have never once experienced Jennifer responding with, “Seriously? You don’t know that?”
Instead, she takes the time to explain things and make sure everyone understands. She makes people feel comfortable learning. And on the rare occasion that she doesn’t have an immediate answer, she doesn’t pretend to. She will say she needs time to think through it, follow up, and create a plan.
That leadership style makes people feel valued.
Over time, I became more confident. I started questioning processes that didn’t make sense, bringing up concerns, and contributing more in meetings. I realized my perspective mattered. Jennifer doesn’t just want people to complete tasks—she wants people to think, improve, and help make the company stronger.
That trust has allowed me to grow into my role as Growth Operations Lead and Executive Assistant. I’ve learned that leadership isn’t always about having the loudest voice in the room. Sometimes it’s about asking the right questions, finding solutions, supporting your team, and being willing to continue learning.
Leadership isn’t always about having the loudest voice in the room. Sometimes it’s about asking the right questions, finding solutions, supporting your team, and being willing to continue learning.
A Great Leader Listens
One thing that has always stood out to me is how much Jennifer genuinely cares about her employees.
There have been times when I felt stressed or overwhelmed, and I shared those concerns with an executive. Instead of those concerns being dismissed, they were taken seriously. Jennifer personally reached out to let me know she heard me and wanted to find a solution.
That moment reminded me what great leadership looks like.
A great leader doesn’t just make decisions from the top. A great leader listens.
A great leader doesn’t just make decisions from the top. A great leader listens.
Jennifer may be the CEO, but she is one of the most approachable and humble leaders I have ever worked with. She wants people to come to her with ideas, concerns, and feedback. She is hands on and involved. She doesn’t simply say, “Go talk to your manager.” She wants to understand what is happening and how she can help.
That is one of the reasons I have learned so much here.
And if you have never heard Jennifer speak in person, you are missing something special. When Jennifer speaks, you hear the passion behind what she does. She isn’t just selling a product or service—she is educating people. She truly cares about helping businesses grow and succeed.
That passion is contagious.
More Than Digital Marketing
Looking back, I realize my journey here has been about so much more than learning digital marketing. It has been about learning to adapt, gaining confidence, and finding my voice.
I came into CI Web Group focused on supporting a process. I grew into someone who helps improve processes, supports teams, and contributes to the bigger picture.
I feel incredibly fortunate to work for a company that cares about its clients, values its employees, and creates an environment where people are encouraged to learn and grow.
Being part of CI Web Group has been a blessing. I’m grateful for the opportunity to contribute, to continue growing, and to be part of a company that doesn’t just talk about its values—it lives them every day.
— Stephanie Harris, Growth Operations Lead & Executive Assistant, CI Web Group · August 2026
And one of them started as a fifth grader in the house. Allula met Torel at school, ended up at our kitchen table more often than anyone counted, and later moved across the country to start at the bottom of the company on purpose. He is now our AI & Automations Engineer. This is his letter.
Allula Teka
AI & Automations Engineer
How You Choose to Think — by Allula Teka
I met Miss Jen in the fifth grade.
Her son Torel and I went to school together, and from the outside it probably looked like a normal kid friendship — two boys who ended up at each other’s houses more than either set of parents could keep track of. But even at ten years old, I remember noticing something. There was an energy in that house I didn’t have language for yet. The way Miss Jen carried herself, the pace she moved at, the way she talked about work like it was something alive — it was different from anything I’d seen up close before. Where I was coming from, things at home weren’t always steady, and I think that’s exactly why I noticed the contrast so clearly. I didn’t understand yet what it meant to build something from nothing, or what it cost to keep showing up through setback after setback. I just knew that whatever she had, I wanted to understand it.
What I took from her, more than anything else, before I ever worked a single hour for her company, was that how you choose to think is a decision. Not a feeling you wait around to have — a decision you make, over and over, especially on the days it would be easier not to. That idea has carried me through my whole life since, and I know it’ll keep carrying me as I get older. Life is going to hand you setbacks no matter who you are. What actually determines the life you end up living is how you respond to them, and whether you keep making that choice on purpose, day after day. I owe her that more than she probably realizes.
How you choose to think is a decision. Not a feeling you wait around to have — a decision you make, over and over, especially on the days it would be easier not to.
Graduating Early
So when I graduated high school early — December of 2016, a semester ahead of everyone I knew — it wasn’t really a hard decision. I wanted to work for CI Web Group so badly that I didn’t see a reason to wait around for a graduation ceremony. I was living in Texas at the time. I packed up and moved to Seattle, and Miss Jen graciously let me stay with her and her family while I found my footing. She let me deep-dive into every part of the business from day one, starting at the very bottom.
My first job there was reading index cards. Miss Jen would come back from speaking events with stacks of leads — actual handwritten cards from people who’d come up to her after a talk — and my job was to enter them into the system. It sounds small, and at the time it probably was, but that’s where I first understood what our relationship with clients actually was. Reading what people wrote down about their businesses, their frustrations, what they were hoping someone could help them fix — that was the first time I really saw what we did from the client’s side of the table.
From there I moved into SEO, back when SEO was the whole game. I got obsessed with actually understanding it — not just running the checklist, but grasping why it worked — because I wanted to be able to look a client in the eye and know I was delivering something real for them. Then I moved into paid advertising, and that’s where the real education happened. Working both sides taught me the difference between organic and paid in a way you can’t learn any other way: paid gets you a lead today, but SEO builds momentum that compounds over months and years in a way paid ads never will. That contrast changed how I thought about the job itself. Somewhere in there it clicked that the growth of the contractors and companies we worked with mattered more than just handing them leads. That was the shift. I understood the weight of what I was actually doing.
Then came data — helping clients see exactly where their money was going and what it was actually producing. That mattered just as much as growth itself, because you can’t know where you’re headed if you don’t know where you’re standing. And that’s what led me to automations, which is where I really fell in love with the work. Helping clients get out of their own admin and back into what they’re actually good at felt like the clearest, most direct way I could help a business breathe.
And Then AI Happened
And then AI happened.
I remember the exact moment. Miss Jen was at an event — I could hear the noise in the background — and I called her in a full panic. I didn’t even really know what I’d found yet. I just told her, “Please, go to this website, create an account, and ask it something.” She said, “What do you mean?” I said, “Ask it whatever you want. About anything.” It took her a minute to even understand what I was asking her to do. Then she did it, and I could hear it — that lightbulb moment happening for her in real time, over the phone, from wherever she was.
I could hear it — that lightbulb moment happening for her in real time, over the phone, from wherever she was.
Everything has moved fast since. I’ve had to learn how to scale quickly for clients, how to understand something brand-new almost as soon as it shows up, and how to see past the fear a lot of people understandably feel about it. I’ll admit — I’m the meticulous one. I’m always looking at the variables, the ways something could break, the risk sitting three steps down the road. That’s just how I’m built. But watching Miss Jen make hard calls quickly and without flinching, backed by a team that catches what any one person might miss, taught me something I don’t think I could have learned any other way: decisiveness isn’t the opposite of caution, it’s what caution is for. You still think it through. But at some point you have to move — and she’s never once made me feel foolish for needing an extra beat to get there myself.
Decisiveness isn’t the opposite of caution. It’s what caution is for.
I believe AI is just an extension of who you already are — and how you choose to use it is what actually matters. I see that every day now in the people around me: the curiosity on our team, what it’s given them the confidence to become, how much more of themselves they get to bring to the work because a tool finally caught up to how fast they think. I believe people will use this well. I’ve watched it happen up close. And every day, I’m more excited about the era we’re actually living in.
AI is just an extension of who you already are — and how you choose to use it is what actually matters.
Miss Jen
Miss Jen, I don’t know if you’ve ever fully clocked what that fifth-grade friendship turned into. You let a kid from Texas move in with your family and hand him the keys to learn your entire business from the inside, one department at a time, with no real guarantee it would work out. It’s been going on ten years now since I started in January of 2017, and I still think about that house, that energy, the way you talked about work like it mattered beyond the money in it.
You didn’t just teach me a job. You taught me how to think. You taught me that setbacks are just the price of building something real, and that the only choice you actually get to make, every single day, is how you respond to them. I watch you do that with clients now — really do it, not perform it — helping people rebuild parts of their lives that have nothing to do with marketing, because you understand that’s the part that actually gets remembered. Your drive is contagious, and it’s never once come without the love, humility, and patience to go with it.
I don’t know how to thank someone for that, other than to keep showing up and doing the work well. So that’s what I’ll keep doing.
She let a kid from Texas move in and learn the whole business from the inside — and taught me, before anything else, that how you choose to think is a decision you get to make every single day.
— Allula Teka, AI & Automations Engineer, CI Web Group · August 2026
And some of them did not arrive as technologists at all. Vee came to the trades by way of motherhood, a divorce, and a friend who told her she was qualified before she believed it. Her letter is about what the transition asks of a person who is already starting over.
Vee Nettles
Sr. Account Manager
The Next Chapter — by Vee Nettles
I thought I was joining a marketing company.
Instead, I found myself in the middle of one of the biggest periods of transformation of my life.
If you had asked me 25 years ago what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer would have been simple.
A mum.
That was my dream, and I was lucky enough to live it. For 15 years, I stayed home raising my two incredible kids. They were my whole world, and I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. Even today, if you asked me what I’m most proud of, it still wouldn’t be my career. It would be my two kids. They have always been, and always will be, my greatest accomplishment.
Life had already asked me to start over once before. Years earlier, I had left Australia to build a new life in the USA. Looking back, I realize that move taught me something I didn’t appreciate at the time—that growth usually begins the moment you step into the unknown. Little did I know life would ask me to do it again.
A difficult divorce closed one chapter of my life and forced me to ask a question I never expected to face.
What now?
Starting over was terrifying. I’d spent years building a home and raising a family, not building a career. I honestly wasn’t sure what I had to offer.
I did know one thing—I loved people.
If you asked any of my school teachers, they’d probably remember me as the girl who got in trouble for talking too much. One teacher even wrote on my report card, “Vee needs to temper the frankness of her statements.” Turns out talking too much—and being a little too honest—became some of my greatest strengths.
You Just Need a Personality
One day, a friend told me her digital marketing company was hiring an Account Manager.
Digital marketing? I had dabbled with SEO while trying to grow an MLM business years earlier, but I certainly didn’t think I was qualified. I was terrified I’d fail.
She looked at me and said, “You don’t need to know everything. They’ll teach you. You just need a personality.”
Well… I’ve definitely got one of those.
That conversation changed the direction of my life.
Finding Confidence Again
Just two months into my first “big girl” job, COVID hit. Like everyone else, we packed up our desks thinking we’d be back in the office in a few weeks. Instead, I spent the next two years learning how to build a career from home.
Somewhere during that time, I found something I didn’t even realize I’d lost.
Confidence.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just someone’s mum. I was building a career I was genuinely proud of.
After a few years in dental marketing, I knew I was ready for another challenge. The company I worked for was structured and rigid. There wasn’t much room to grow or simply be yourself.
Then I found CI Web Group.
Like anyone interviewing for a marketing company, I looked at the website first.
I’ll be honest… my first thought was, “Lordy… what kind of marketing company is this?”
Thankfully, I looked past it.
I still remember my interview with Jazmin Ramirez because it never felt like an interview. It felt like a conversation. She was warm, genuine, and easy to talk to. I remember leaving that interview thinking, I really want this job.
More than that, I remember thinking this felt like the kind of company that would embrace me for who I am. A place where my personality wasn’t something I’d have to tone down. Somewhere I could simply be myself.
So I called Jazmin and told her I wanted the job.
Without missing a beat, she smiled and said, “That’s music to my ears.”
It might sound like a small moment.
It wasn’t.
It felt really good to be wanted.
After everything life had thrown at me, those five words meant more than Jazmin probably ever realized. They reminded me that someone saw potential in me before I’d fully seen it in myself.
Looking back, I can see how much of my journey has been shaped by people who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. A friend who encouraged me to apply. Jazmin, who made me feel like I belonged. Jennifer, who continues to challenge me to grow. Sometimes all it takes is one person seeing something in you that you can’t yet see in yourself.
Sometimes all it takes is one person seeing something in you that you can’t yet see in yourself.
Living Through Change
Over the last two and a half years, I’ve watched CI Web Group transform. There have been exciting seasons and incredibly difficult ones. I’ve watched teammates and friends move on. I’ve questioned decisions. I’ve wondered if I should leave too.
Living through change is very different from looking back on it.
Growth can be messy. It can feel uncertain. Sometimes it feels like you’re moving too fast. Other times it feels like you’re standing still.
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t just watching a company transform.
I was transforming too.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that growth rarely happens during the comfortable seasons of our lives. The easiest thing would have been to leave when things felt uncertain.
Instead, I stayed.
Today, I’m incredibly grateful I did.
Growth rarely happens during the comfortable seasons of our lives. The easiest thing would have been to leave when things felt uncertain. Instead, I stayed.
One of the unexpected gifts of working at CI Web Group has been getting to know Jennifer outside of work. From the outside, she can seem unstoppable. Seriously… I still don’t know when the woman sleeps.
But getting to know her changed my perspective.
Behind the entrepreneur is someone who is warm, funny, genuine, and deeply invested in the people around her.
One thing I’ll never take for granted is knowing I can pick up the phone and call my CEO. Not because everything is perfect, but because we can have honest conversations. I can ask questions, challenge ideas, admit when I’m struggling, and know I’ll be heard.
I’ve never experienced leadership like that before.
It taught me that leadership isn’t about pretending to have all the answers. It’s about creating an environment where people feel safe enough to ask the hard questions together.
Why the Trades
Today, one of my favorite parts of my job is working with business owners in the trades.
Behind every company is a family that’s taken a chance. Years of sacrifice. Long days. Hard work. A dream someone refused to give up on.
Maybe that’s why I connect with them so much.
I know what it feels like to build something deeply personal and wonder if it’s all going to work out. They’re never just clients to me. I celebrate their wins. I hurt when they’re frustrated. I genuinely care because I know what’s behind the business.
Looking back, I can see how every chapter of my life prepared me for this one.
The little girl who got in trouble for talking too much grew into a woman whose job is talking to people every day. Helping hardworking business owners succeed isn’t just my job anymore.
It’s something I genuinely care about.
If there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s that life doesn’t end when one chapter closes. Sometimes that’s exactly when the best chapter begins.
The funny thing is, I thought I came here to learn digital marketing.
Instead, I learned to believe in myself again.
I thought I came here to learn digital marketing. Instead, I learned to believe in myself again.
If the woman I was ten years ago could see me now, I think she’d be proud.
— Vee Nettles, Sr. Account Manager, CI Web Group · August 2026
Production is where the transition stops being a slide and becomes a shipping schedule. Hoda came from a corporate project-management seat and landed in a company that rearranges itself while the work is in flight.
Hoda Castleton
Hydra Production
What’s Next? — by Hoda Castleton
When I joined CI Web Group in March 2024 I was coming from a corporate job as a Senior Digital Project Manager. What drew me here wasn’t the title or the paycheck, it was the chance to work for a woman-owned company, built by someone who actually wanted her people to have a voice. That someone is Jennifer Bagley.
I didn’t realize at the time how much her leadership would change me.
This company has never stood still, and that’s on Jennifer. Working here is a bit like building an airplane while it’s already in the air, fast, constantly shifting, occasionally exhausting. But it’s also proof that she means it when she asks, “What’s next?” instead of assuming things will stay the same.
When the restructuring happened, I know it was hard on a lot of people. From where I sat, though, it never felt unfair. It felt like Jennifer making the tough calls to protect the company’s future. If I were in her seat, I think I would’ve made a lot of the same decisions. That didn’t make it painless, but it made me trust her more.
My role has changed more times than I can count, and I’ve noticed Jennifer has a habit of pushing people into situations before they feel ready for them. At the time it can feel like a lot. Looking back, it’s made me better at my job, and it’s taught me that growth rarely looks the way you expect.
It taught me something personal, too. I’ve always liked having the answers on my own. Watching how Jennifer leads showed me that real strength sometimes looks like asking for help, or trusting the people around you. That’s changed how I show up for my own team.
Real strength sometimes looks like asking for help, or trusting the people around you.
I remember when she moved us into Vibin. I was terrified, genuinely unsure if I could learn it, let alone get good at it. But she’d already decided this was where we needed to go, and she was right. Now I spend hours in it building things I’m proud of.
Then there was the spring of 2026, when I watched Jennifer speak at an event in San Diego. I already believed in the company, but watching her in front of a room full of people showed me something else: this wasn’t just someone running a business. It was someone who genuinely cared about helping an entire industry through a hard, uncertain shift. I left more convinced than ever.
The biggest difference between this job and anywhere else I’ve worked comes down to her. Under Jennifer, my ideas actually matter. We don’t always have the answers, and we don’t always get it right the first time. But there’s something rewarding about working for someone who keeps adapting instead of standing still—and who expects that same willingness from the rest of us.
If you asked me what it’s like to work for Jennifer Bagley, I’d tell you to get comfortable with change, because there’s a lot of it. I’d tell you that you’ll probably find strengths you didn’t know you had, because she has a way of seeing your potential before you do.
She has a way of seeing your potential before you do.
This chapter of my career means a lot to me, and most of that comes down to her. She challenged me, humbled me, and pushed me further than I thought I could go. None of us know exactly what’s next, but I know this: Jennifer’s still willing to evolve, and that’s exactly why I still believe in what she’s building.
— Hoda Castleton, Hydra Production, CI Web Group · August 2026
And the newest generation is being built here rather than hired in. Marcos came in as a student developer and is finishing his degree while the systems he writes run the company.
Marcos Jimenez
AI Infrastructure & Product Development
Growing With CI Web Group — by Marcos Jimenez
My journey with CI Web Group began through Chris Heney, who connected me with the company and gave me the opportunity to start working as a full-stack developer. Chris has been much more than the person who introduced me to CI Web Group. He has been a great mentor, teacher, and source of support throughout my journey. At the time, I knew that I wanted to build a career in software, but I was still finding my confidence—both as a developer and as a person.
Before joining CI Web Group, I was much more timid. I was comfortable completing the technical work in front of me, but I was not always confident speaking up, sharing my ideas, or communicating with people outside of development. Working at CI Web Group changed that.
From the beginning, Chris took the time to teach me, answer my questions, and help me understand not only how to complete a task, but why things should be built a certain way. He taught me a large part of what I know today about software development, problem-solving, infrastructure, and approaching complex projects. More importantly, he trusted me with opportunities that pushed me beyond what I already knew and allowed me to learn through real experience.
Chris has always been someone I could go to when I was stuck or unsure of the right direction. He has helped me work through difficult problems without simply giving me the answer. Instead, he encouraged me to think through the problem, understand the larger system, and become capable of finding the solution myself. That mentorship has played a major role in helping me become a more independent and confident developer.
Learning to Communicate
As my responsibilities grew, I also had to learn how to communicate with many different teams across the company. I needed to understand what they did, what problems they faced, and how technology could make their work easier. That pushed me to stop looking at software as only code. I began seeing it as a way to improve processes, connect teams, solve business problems, and help the entire company perform better.
When I first joined, I honestly did not know what to expect. Over time, the experience became a combination of fun, challenges, late nights, constant learning, and opportunities to create things that could make a real difference. I have learned an incredible amount about both software and business.
During my time here, I have helped build projects such as a CRM system, a CMS for our websites, automation tools, AI agents, and workflows that have improved the way different parts of the company operate. These projects have taught me that building good software is not only about making something work. It is about understanding how that solution fits into the larger infrastructure, how the data should be managed, and how people will actually use it.
A lot of my growth on these projects came from working alongside Chris. He helped me understand the importance of creating solutions that are organized, scalable, and able to support the company over time. He showed me how individual pieces of software connect to a much larger system and how decisions made during development can affect the entire company. His guidance helped me move from simply completing assigned tasks to thinking more deeply about architecture, long-term impact, and the needs of the business.
The Speed
One of the biggest challenges—and one of the things that makes CI Web Group unique—is the speed at which Jennifer Bagley moves. Jennifer sees possibilities quickly, and with AI, she can sometimes begin creating a solution herself before the development team has fully planned how it should fit into the company’s systems. That creates challenges because we may then need to restructure the solution, connect it to the correct infrastructure, and make sure the data does not become decentralized.
At the same time, that speed is also part of what makes working here exciting. Jennifer constantly pushes the company forward. The target never stops moving. Processes can change overnight, new ideas can quickly become priorities, and everyone has to be prepared to adapt. That can be frustrating, especially when not everyone in the company is immediately aware of a change, but it is also one of the parts I enjoy most. We are never standing still.
Working directly with Jennifer has taught me a lot. I have always considered myself hardworking, but CI Web Group has tested my limits at times. There were school nights when we worked until five in the morning, with Jennifer working right beside me. Those moments showed me that she would never ask someone to do something she was not willing to do herself.
There were school nights when we worked until five in the morning, with Jennifer working right beside me. Those moments showed me that she would never ask someone to do something she was not willing to do herself.
Jennifer and Chris have influenced my growth in different but equally important ways. Jennifer has constantly challenged me to move faster, think bigger, and recognize what is possible. Chris has helped me build the technical knowledge and foundation needed to turn those possibilities into reliable solutions. Jennifer often pushes the limits of what we believe can be accomplished, while Chris has helped me understand how to build those ideas properly and make them work within the company’s infrastructure. Learning from both of them has helped shape the developer and person I am today.
One of the memories that represents my experience the most is simply staying up late working with Jennifer and Chris and knowing that they genuinely care about the people around them. Jen does not only care about the success of the business. She cares about her employees and is willing to support them personally and professionally. Chris has also consistently been there to offer guidance, patience, and encouragement whenever I needed it. That is part of what makes the environment at CI Web Group feel like a home. Even during the most difficult or exhausting moments, you never feel completely alone.
The Culture
The culture has also helped me become more comfortable expressing myself. Everyone communicates openly, treats each other with respect, and creates a friendly atmosphere. I do not feel like I have to be scared to speak up or share what I believe, regardless of the position or title of the person I am speaking with. That freedom has helped me grow into a stronger communicator, leader, and developer.
I realized how much I had grown when I stopped waiting for someone to tell me exactly what to build. I became able to look at the company’s processes, identify problems, and create tools that improved performance and increased the speed of development. I began thinking beyond individual tasks and looking at the bigger picture of the business.
I realized how much I had grown when I stopped waiting for someone to tell me exactly what to build.
That independence did not happen overnight. It came from being challenged, making mistakes, solving problems, and having people like Chris willing to guide me throughout the process. His mentorship gave me the knowledge and confidence to eventually bring my own ideas forward instead of always relying on someone else to determine the next step.
What Comes Next
Before CI Web Group, I knew I wanted to work in software. My experience here has confirmed that decision while expanding what I believe I am capable of doing. I can now develop my own ideas, bring solutions to the table, and help turn those ideas into tools that support the company’s growth. Every solution gives me an opportunity to learn something new while also creating value for the business.
I am currently in my final year of college, and I plan to finish my degree while continuing to grow with CI Web Group. I look forward to staying with the company afterward and continuing to build things that once would have felt far beyond my abilities.
Overall, I love CI Web Group and the people who make it what it is. I am extremely grateful to Jennifer for continuing to challenge me and believe in what I can accomplish, and I am equally grateful to Chris for bringing me into the company, mentoring me, and teaching me so much of what I know. Both of them have had a major impact on my personal and professional growth.
We have already accomplished amazing things, but I believe there is still so much more ahead of us. I cannot wait to see what we build next, how much the company grows, and how much all of us continue to evolve along the way.
The biggest lesson I would share with anyone reading this is simple: never stop learning. Technology changes every day, and the people and companies that succeed are the ones willing to adapt, experiment, support one another, and continue moving forward.
— Marcos Jimenez, AI Infrastructure & Product Development, CI Web Group · August 2026
And one of them left, and came back. Marina spent the years away sending her own clients here — which is a harder endorsement to give than any letter.
Marina Brenko
Strategic Account Manager
Glad to Be Back Home — by Marina Brenko
It was 2023 when I worked at a PE company as a marketing director and part of my job was helping out with events at which the CEO was a keynote speaker, so I would follow him pretty much everywhere with our videographer and make sure everything was ready for his presentation. I also would go to any session that was related to marketing whenever I got a chance.
There I Saw Her
At one of the events I went to another marketing panel, honestly not expecting much as I felt there was nothing new I could learn about marketing. But as they say, you have to be at the right place at the right time, and your whole life may change. And there I saw her. She owned the stage. There was a fire in the way she spoke, a spark in her eyes, and an energy that made me listen with my mouth wide open. I thought “finally, finally I’ve met someone different, someone real, and not another ‘follow me’ guru”. That was when I met Jennifer Bagley for the first time. And since that day I knew I had to find a way to work with her. So I put my manifestation skills to work, and a few months later I was part of her team (I also had to stalk Jen and Melanie on LinkedIn for quite a bit asking to hire me). And I will tell you it was a roller-coaster! If you know Jen, she’s moving fast! Not everyone can cope with that. We had people come and go. At times it was very stressful. But for me she was always the leader I wanted to trust and follow. If nothing changes — nothing changes! Over the years, I’d become skeptical of marketing agencies because I’d seen too many overpromise and underdeliver. And if you don’t understand marketing yourself, it’s easy to end up paying for promises instead of results. CIWG was different from the beginning. It was never about money for Jennifer, it was always customer success first. And for me CIWG was always the best marketing agency out there without a question.
It was never about money for Jennifer, it was always customer success first.
Then One Day I Left
Then one day I left… and not because I wanted to, for the record. But because it made more sense for me at that period of my life to join a local company as a CMO. While not directly working at CI, I referred all the businesses that came to me for advice to Jennifer and her team. I’ve had two companies who I worked with at that time built their websites by CI, and the 3rd one just went live. The 3rd one I had to fight for a while for, it is a franchise and they don’t just let you have full autonomy. But I got it, trusting Jennifer’s vision I knew I couldn’t fail them.
People have asked me, “What is it about Jennifer that makes you want to work with her so much?”
The answer has always been simple: trust. I trust her judgment, her integrity, and her willingness to do what’s right, even when it’s not the easiest path. She’s authentic, honest, and never afraid to challenge people to think differently. She doesn’t build businesses around hype — she builds them around results and genuinely caring about the people she serves.
Jennifer taught me that you don’t have to choose between doing what’s right and building a successful business. The best leaders care enough to tell the truth, challenge people to grow, and never stop raising the bar. That’s the kind of leader I aspire to be.
Jennifer taught me that you don’t have to choose between doing what’s right and building a successful business.
Home Isn’t Always a Place
My time at the other company was coming to an end, I accomplished my mission and safely handed it off to the CI team, because it was the right thing to do. I started looking for another job. I hoped I could get back with CIWG. Because they are the best and I am the best and there’s no other place I’d rather be right now! The systems they build, the people, the vision, the results are out of this world and I’m so so happy I’m back and proud to be part of it all and be able to serve more good people, families and business.
I do really feel like home here. Throughout my career I’ve been with many different companies, and don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go back to any, but CI Web Group.
Lots of people claim to be self-made. I don’t believe anyone is. We’re shaped by the people around us — the ones who challenge us, encourage us, believe in us, disappoint us, teach us, and help us grow. Every person we meet leaves a mark, and together those experiences become who we are. People like Jennifer inspire and encourage me to keep looking beyond the horizon, and never settle for what’s comfortable.
Home isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s the people who challenge you to become the best version of yourself. For me, that’s CI Web Group.
Home isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s the people who challenge you to become the best version of yourself.
Thank you, Jennifer, for believing in me. I’m grateful our paths crossed, and I’m even more grateful to be home.
— Marina Brenko, Strategic Account Manager, CI Web Group · August 2026
Quality assurance is where a transition either holds or quietly falls apart, and Ryan runs it. He arrived from a testing job with no path forward and found a company that kept handing him larger things to be responsible for.
Ryan Lloyd
Head of QA / QC
All In — by Ryan Lloyd
My journey happily started nearly 3 years ago, when I was feeling stagnant in the QA role I was in, testing proprietary software and with no real long term career path or growth in sight. It was time for a change. I always thought it would be fun to work for a marketing agency, but was never able to land one. Then LinkedIn served up a Quality Assurance Tester position for a company called CI Web Group… Click. Digging into the position I found it was a marketing agency, and the position was in my wheelhouse. I looked up the company to find what appeared to be a cool agency that builds client websites. More interesting than testing software… Click and Apply. “Let’s see what happens”, I thought. Feeling like it was going to be another application lost to the no-reply job hunting ether.
I wake up the next morning to a message from Brandy to setup an interview. A single interview, and a day or two later, I was hired… It finally happened! I landed a marketing agency, and the opportunity to help grow a QA department. Pinch. Yep, not dreaming.
This Is My CEO?
From my first day, I felt a buzz and energy coming from this small company. It felt alive, compared to the previous larger companies I had most recently worked for. Most of my career has been working for start-ups and small companies, and I was so happy to be back in that environment. Everyone I encountered was excited and working on something new, I was “ALL IN”. Note, this saying will make more sense a little later.
A week in and I am loving it. My manager and all my new colleagues were very supportive and welcoming. And for a remote job, I didn’t feel like I was on an island, finding my way alone. But here, I am already active in meetings and working on projects. It wasn’t too long before I met our leader, Jennifer Bagley. My first impressions… approachable, smart, engaging, driven, directed well, and knew what she wanted. This is my CEO? Not some ivory tower CEO that you might see or engage with once a year at the company picnic?
This is my CEO? Not some ivory tower CEO that you might see or engage with once a year at the company picnic?
BOLD
Fast forward, and I am less than a year in with one promotion and a new team. Happily grinding and working hard to make an impact. Then I learn of my manager and other select few attending a leadership training called BOLD, but no one would really say anything about it. It was this mystery… a proclaimed, life-changing mystery. And now my manager is telling me he nominated me and would I be interested. Now, this is not something that I would typically attend, but something inside me told me to do it. And I was off, traveling to a two day retreat in the mountains of California, cut off from the world and no internet. I had the support of the other graduates and a suitcase traveling from New Jersey to my destination, and I get a call. The timing of the call was perfect. I was driving and close to the camp, and it was Jennifer Bagley and Mike Hicklen calling to give me love and support for the journey I was about to embark on. “ALL IN”, Jennifer said. Not yet really understanding what that meant, but I was about to find out.
It’s against the BOLD code to share what goes down, which I will honor. But I will happily share that I emerged two days later, after a plethora of used tissues, a renewed man. Full of joy and gratitude, and ready to be ALL IN with my life, career, and family. “ALL IN” is a term from BOLD, meaning that you have full belief and dedication to whatever lays before you. And a term used often at CI Web Group, with a number of us having attended BOLD. This is a company that believes in that term, we work hard to be ALL IN every day for our clients and ourselves.
“ALL IN” means that you have full belief and dedication to whatever lays before you.
Jennifer was my first call pulling out of camp. A happy, sobbing mess, leaving her a voicemail to thank her for the experience. That’s the kind of CEO Jennifer is. Her drive for success and love for personal growth is shared with her team, helping us gain new knowledge and skills to advance. I’ve gone to BOLD, become a SCRUM Master, learned AI, been involved in software transitions and large projects, managed multiple teams, and had so many opportunities to grow. Do we grind? Hell yes! Are there challenges? You betcha. But I am so proud to be part of this company. And through all of it, I feel I have advanced in my career more than I have with any other company. I truly enjoy the people I get to work with everyday. There is a camaraderie we have that is warm and supportive. We have each other’s backs and this is led by example from Jennifer, who is in the pits with us, grinding and leading the way.
Jennifer is in the pits with us, grinding and leading the way.
Since BOLD
Since BOLD, I’m proud to share that I have been promoted further and added to the leadership team. I’ve been transitioned to another amazing manager, Chelsea, you are the best! The mentorship I have received from you has done so much for me professionally and personally.
Jennifer, thank you for this incredible opportunity. Thank you for the support over the years, and trusting me, even when I was unsure myself. Please know that working for CI Web Group has been the most rewarding and biggest learning experience in my career, it is such an honor. I look forward to the future you are creating for the company, and thank you for allowing me to be a part of it.
— Ryan Lloyd, Head of QA / QC, CI Web Group · August 2026
And the last word goes to the person who called this a decade early and spent ten years waiting for a room that would let him prove it.
Michael “Parker”
Creative Director and Director of Design Engineering
The Merge Was Always Coming — by Michael “Parker”
People have called me delusional my whole life. You know what? I take it as a compliment. Because everything you love about this world started as somebody’s delusion. Every company. Every song. Every movement. The website your business runs on. All of it was once a thing that did not exist, held by a person who refused to put it down, and everybody around them thought they were crazy right up until the moment they were right.
Everything you love about this world started as somebody’s delusion.
So let me tell you what my delusion looked like in 2015. Twice a week, on my lunch break, I stood in front of rooms full of designers and made the same prediction. Design and development are going to become one job. Stop picking a side. Learn to build the thing you drew. This was a decade before AI made it obvious. A few people leaned in. Most nodded politely and went back to their artboards, and honestly, I get it. I was the guy teaching himself Framer when it still ran on CoffeeScript, coding my own prototypes, handing developers working software when they expected a picture. To anyone with ten good years invested in the old way, I was chasing something that did not exist. But that has never scared me. When I believe, I believe all the way down. I knew the merge was coming. The only thing I could not solve, for a whole decade, was how to bring everybody with me.
Give Me a Door. Any Door.
And I used to wonder about that. Why could I see it so clearly when so many talented people could not? Then one day it hit me. They had been trained into the old way. I never was. Nobody ever taught me the rules, so I never learned which ones I was supposed to follow. I have been designing since I was sixteen. Self taught. No degree that stuck. I came up in the hardcore music scene making merch and websites for bands, and that scene rewired me for life. Nobody gives you permission. Nothing exists until you make it. And the kid with the idea and the work ethic beats the guy with the credentials every single time. I tried the traditional paths, believe me. The Navy gave me discipline I still use every day. Design school could not hold my attention, so I walked. And when I finally got into this industry, you know what they let me in as? Not a designer. A photo editor.
Perfect. Give me a door. Any door.
I got fast. So fast I had hours left over every day, and I spent every one of them learning the job above mine, then giving it away, helping other designers on their projects for free until the free work became the real work. Retouching became brand work. Brand work became interaction design. Interaction design became product design, then senior product design. Nobody promoted me. They just kept catching up to what I was already doing. And that is still the only career strategy I have ever had. Get good fast. Then give it away.
Get good fast. Then give it away.
Show Us
Then CI Web Group found me. And I will be honest with you, I had offers that looked better on paper. But every single conversation here clicked. All of them. One after another, like we were already mid-project. I have spent my whole life reading the energy in rooms, and this room read right, so I trusted that over the spreadsheet. Best decision of my professional life. Some people find a job. I found my frequency. This place has made me better everywhere it counts. Happier at work. Happier at home. Healthier in ways I did not know a job could touch.
Now, what I walked into was a company that had not caught up to its own ambition yet. Sites designed in Photoshop. Built on WordPress. Shipping worse than they looked on the screen where they were born. So I started making bets. New tools. A real discovery process. An all-in platform change. Every bet was the same sentence: I can see something you cannot see yet. And here is the part I will never get over. Every single time, this company gave me the same two words back.
Show us.
I had waited my entire career for a room that says show us.
I had waited my entire career for a room that says show us.
Six Months to Days
So when AI showed up, Braedn and I were already inside it, months before it was any good, back when the whole industry was still arguing about whether it was a toy. And it was rough. You needed elite taste and real technical skill to pull anything worth shipping out of it. But I had seen this movie before. I know what “not good yet” looks like right before it becomes undeniable. I watched Framer go from a weird CoffeeScript experiment to the proof of my whole thesis. So we built our first template and we brought it to the team.
And we hit a wall. Let me be honest about that wall, because it was not stubbornness. It was fear. I watched people I respect, seriously talented people, hear AI and hear the end of the thing they had spent ten years mastering. And I understood completely. The skill I built my whole identity on, making the beautiful thing by hand, is exactly the skill the machines learned first.
But here is what actually happened. The floor came up, and judgment became the entire game. Anything can be generated now. Almost none of it is good. Knowing why a page fails. Knowing what a homeowner needs to see in the first three seconds. Knowing when the impressive version is the wrong version. None of that got automated. It got priceless. And those same designers who went quiet in that first meeting? Some of them are doing the best work of their careers right now, shipping things solo in days that used to take an entire team six months.
The floor came up, and judgment became the entire game. Anything can be generated now. Almost none of it is good.
Six months to days. Let that sink in. And watching that moment land for one of them, the moment the fear flips into oh, this is mine now? Best part of my job. Nothing else is close.
Jen saw all of it on day one and let us run. That is the whole reason it happened here first. I have spent my career being the fastest believer in every room I walked into, and then I met somebody who matches me move for move. Same frequency. Same belief that fast beats perfect. Same instinct to run straight at the thing everyone else is edging away from. When the person with the vision and the person with the wheel want the same future, you stop pitching and you start building. That is what this company is underneath everything, and it is rarer than any tool we will ever use.
Hands Up
And maybe that is why the other place I feel that exact same energy is a softball field on a Saturday morning. I coach my daughter’s team, have since T ball, and she is eight going on nine now. And you know what I figured out? Same job. Reps. Put people where their gift matters. Make the hard part small enough to hold. And some Saturdays there is a kid at the plate who does not want to be there. Afraid of the ball. Bat too heavy. Everybody watching. I crouch down to her level, and I do not tell her it is easy. I get her hands set, I remind her she has done this a hundred times in practice, and then I say the same thing every coach says.
Hands up.
That is the whole message, whether you are eight or forty. The thing you can see that nobody around you sees yet? That is not a problem with you. That is the assignment. Build for the world before it arrives. Learn the tool everyone is afraid of. Say the unpopular thing twice a week for ten years if that is what it takes. And find the room that says show us, because the idea and the room need each other, and one without the other stays a dream.
I found mine. We are building that world right now, at CI Web Group, with Jen, at full speed, having the time of our lives. And it is so much bigger than websites. The world my daughter is going to inherit is being decided right now, by the people willing to build it before it exists. That is the work. That is the privilege. And every morning I get to wake up and do it with people I believe in, who believed in me first.
The pitch is coming either way. Hands up. Swing.
The pitch is coming either way. Hands up. Swing.
— Coach Mike “Parker”, Creative Director and Director of Design Engineering, CI Web Group · August 2026
Account management is where the vision meets the client who has to live with it. DJ has been in that seat since the marketing team was three people, and he is candid about what the growth cost.
DJ Tremel
Strategic Account Manager
Excuses or Results — by DJ Tremel
My name is DJ Tremel, and I am a Strategic Account Manager at CI Web Group. I joined the company in April 2021, but my story with CI Web Group actually began before my first official day. By way of an employee referral—thanks, Jaz!—I had the opportunity to meet Jennifer, Mike, and Clay at an event in Irvine while I was still employed elsewhere and looking for a new opportunity. When I was finally ready to make a move, I may have had to hunt them down a little and keep reminding them that I wanted my foot in the door. Thankfully, persistence paid off.
My professional background has taken an interesting path. Ironically, nearly my entire career has been in sales, even though my college education and additional certifications are rooted in information technology. That combination has ended up serving me well. Sales taught me how to communicate, build relationships, understand what people need, and help them make confident decisions. My technology background helped me understand the systems, websites, tools, and strategies behind the services we provide, even though I came in with no formal marketing experience.
I also learned a great deal about customer service and its value during the time I spent working at Nordstrom. That experience taught me that great service is not only about solving a problem. It is about listening carefully, taking ownership, communicating clearly, and making people feel that their concerns matter. Those lessons have stayed with me throughout my career and continue to influence how I work with every client today.
Immediately before coming to CI Web Group, I worked in B2B sales for a large Fortune 100 company in the telecommunications industry. Moving from that corporate environment to CI Web Group was a major change. The team was much smaller, the work was remote, and there was a level of flexibility and personal connection that had never been available in my previous role. It was a breath of fresh air.
When Everyone Fit on One Screen
It was exciting to join a close-knit company where people genuinely knew and supported one another. Calling it a team almost does not feel accurate because, from the beginning, it felt much more like joining a family. I knew I was stepping into something different. I just did not realize how much change, growth, and opportunity would come with it. Not long after I joined, the company entered a major period of growth, and things have rarely slowed down since.
Truth be told, my five and a half years at CI Web Group feel more like ten and a half because of everything I have experienced along the way. When I joined, the entire marketing team consisted of only three people, including me (shoutout Kim and Allula!). I remember when every employee in the company could fit on a single page during a Zoom meeting. At the time, I believe I was the first new person to join the tight-knit group in a year or two. Looking at the company today and thinking back to those early meetings makes the amount of growth we have achieved feel almost unreal.
Trusting the Vision
Much of that growth has come from Jennifer’s willingness to see beyond where the company was at the time and focus on what it could become. Her vision has often required the rest of us to think bigger, move faster, and become comfortable with being uncomfortable. There have been moments when the next step was obvious, but there have also been major transitions and bumpy roads when the full picture was harder to see.
During those times, trusting Jennifer’s vision has been important. Believing in a direction is easy when everything is going smoothly. It means more when there are difficult decisions, shifting responsibilities, growing pains, and uncertainty along the way. I have learned that a vision does not always arrive with a perfectly mapped-out path. Sometimes it requires trust, patience, flexibility, and the willingness to keep moving forward even when the road is still being built beneath you.
A vision does not always arrive with a perfectly mapped-out path. Sometimes it requires the willingness to keep moving forward even when the road is still being built beneath you.
I would be lying if I said the road that brought us here has been easy. It has been anything but. There have been restructures, changing job titles, expanding responsibilities, difficult decisions, and countless moments when we had to adapt quickly. Rapid growth requires rapid change, and that kind of environment is not always comfortable. Some people could not handle it, but many did. Those are the people who remain here today, continuing to push the company forward and helping establish CI Web Group as an industry leader in the age of AI.
Throughout my time here, I have held several roles and taken on responsibilities that I never could have anticipated when I started. Each change came with a new learning curve, new challenges, and new expectations. There were moments of uncertainty and times when the easiest choice would have been to stay comfortable. However, personal growth and development do not come from staying inside your comfort zone. They come from facing the challenge, making mistakes, falling down, learning from the experience, and continuing to try until you succeed.
Excuses or Results
There is a quote that has become especially meaningful to me: “You can have excuses or results. Not both.” It is a standard I try to hold myself to, and it is also a mindset I try to convey to every client I work with. Marketing success does not come from waiting for perfect circumstances or searching for reasons something cannot be done. It comes from making decisions, taking action, adapting when necessary, and staying committed to the desired result.
You can have excuses or results. Not both.
My role is not only to guide clients through marketing strategies, websites, technology, and constant changes in the industry. It is also to help them understand that meaningful results require participation, accountability, patience, and a willingness to evolve. We can provide the strategy, tools, guidance, and support, but long-term success comes from working together and remaining focused on the outcome rather than the obstacles.
That same mindset has shaped my own experience at CI Web Group. The company has challenged me, supported me, pushed me beyond my comfort zone, and given me opportunities to grow both professionally and personally. Jennifer’s vision has played a major role in that journey, particularly during the moments when change was difficult or the path ahead was uncertain. I am proud that I trusted in where we were going, proud of how far we have come from those early Zoom meetings, and even more excited about where that vision takes us next.
— DJ Tremel, Strategic Account Manager, CI Web Group · August 2026
Design and production is where the transition gets measured in nights. Addison has been on the build side through every platform this company has had, and counts the change in role titles.
Addison McKissack
Hydra Product Designer
The One Constant — by Addison McKissack
Much like life, the one constant at CI Web Group is change. In my (almost) 3 years of working here, I’ve seen:
3 web builders.
2 client communication hubs.
2 project management tools (not including the hundreds of Google Sheets).
6 role changes (that’s one roughly every 6 months).
And hundreds upon hundreds of tweaks, changes, and updates to our processes.
That amount of large changes is not normal.
At least, anywhere else that wouldn’t be normal. At CI, it seems like change is at the core of what we do.
I used to think I was someone who wasn’t great with change. I have always been flexible, and I can make almost any situation work out. But big, ground-shaking, major change? No thank you. I liked being comfortable and always knowing what would come next. And these changes weren’t always big; at first, they started small. We had a game plan, so they felt less daunting. Things were rolled out with plenty of time and planning to cause as few growing pains as possible.
Then, we made the (necessary) switch out of WordPress into Webflow. That made sense; there were security risks for our clients, and the upkeep was astronomical. What made it hard wasn’t that we were learning a new system and a new way of building sites — we did it while we moved into a brand new project management system. And the goal was to get these new technologies adopted and mastered as soon as possible.
Every day felt like I was drowning in new information, and while I was picking it up quickly, it never seemed fast enough.
My team shrunk from 6 to 2, and then I had a whole month of just me handling over 140 projects. I was stressed beyond belief and at my utter breaking point. I was at the point where I was starting to look for other jobs because I just couldn’t take the stress.
Thankfully, we got out of that hole. It took 3 months, new processes, a new manager, and a lot of therapy to pick up the pieces of that chaos, and we got back on track and comfortable with Webflow. Things were good.
Building the Plane Mid-Flight
Then along came the wider adoption of AI and the idea of Hydra.
That changed everything yet again.
Thankfully, this time, we had the basics. We had the foundational knowledge of what makes a great website. We had the technology. We just had to figure out how to use the knowledge and the technology to get from point A to point Z as fast as possible.
It’s a running joke that we have been building the plane mid-flight. But that’s truly how it has felt over the last 5 months. We were evolving so fast over the last few months that a site that would’ve been miles ahead of what we built in Webflow and was light-years ahead of the average WordPress site realized it wasn’t up to snuff just a month later.
But that’s what evolution is. It’s taking what works and keeping that while throwing out the rest to build it back bigger and better.
That’s what evolution is. It’s taking what works and keeping that while throwing out the rest to build it back bigger and better.
The Sprint
Granted, we did the majority of that evolution on the web side of the company over a six-week sprint, which was brutal. Our small but mighty team of designers and developers pulled all-nighters and worked every single day without fail to get hundreds of sites rebuilt in Hydra. After all, what’s the use of building the highest performing sites we’ve ever seen if only a few people have it? We were done with WordPress and Webflow, and it just didn’t make sense to keep having those sites. But we didn’t want to lose the clients we had. People who have put their trust in us for the last decade to do what’s best for them and their company. So, we rebuilt it all.
That sprint was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was working 80-hour weeks and wouldn’t be seen anywhere without my laptop, with at least six agents running. My social life was dead in the water. I was coding poolside on the Fourth of July while my family had fun. My fiancée was very unhappy with me throughout it. She asked why I was working so hard and burning myself out until the wee hours of the night over and over again.
All I could say was that this was going to help a lot of people.
All I could say was that this was going to help a lot of people.
The People Who Help Others
Which, I know, sounds silly when you’re talking about a website. It’s not like we’re curing cancer or saving lives. But we are making people’s lives easier. We’re helping our clients have some of the most profitable months they’ve ever seen in their companies’ history, meaning they can hire more people, they can give back to their community more, and they can be there to help their neighbors when they need it most.
I had never really thought much about the trades before I joined CIWG. When the AC goes out in the middle of summer, we just call our HVAC guy, Ron, and he’d come and fix it. I never needed to know what he did or even what unit we had out there — just that it worked. The trades are what keep all of us comfortable. They make sure our pipes don’t leak, that we’re warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and that we have a roof over our heads that’ll last through tornado season.
What I do brings my clients to their friends and neighbors who need their help.
So, even as things got hard, and we made another change to a process or another complete rebuild of a website that was built only 6 months ago, I would go back to the core of why I do what I do and why I work so hard. It’s to help the people who help others every single day.
That’s what keeps me coming back, excited to work every morning. Despite all of the changes and the stress, it’s worth it in the end because we help the people who put their trust in us.
— Addison McKissack, Hydra Product Designer, CI Web Group · August 2026
And the account side has its own version of the same test. Danny arrived from an agency that sent two failed clients to collections and clawed back his commission. His letter is about what changed when the person on the other end of the late-night text changed.
Danny Loa
Senior Strategic Account Manager
If We Put In the Work — by Danny Loa
I’ve always cared about my clients like they were family. Extended family, brothers and sisters from another mother, whatever you want to call it. A mentor once told me I was “loyal to a fault.” Maybe so. But I’ve always believed if I treat someone’s business exactly like I’d treat my own, they succeed, and that success flows back to me eventually, usually in the form of a referral, which I still think is the biggest compliment you can get in this business.
That belief got tested hard at my last job.
The Two Clients
Two of my clients went out of business within 4 weeks of each other. One went bankrupt. The other got bought out. One owed us over $10,000. The other owed $15,000. And when it happened, my previous company didn’t care about either client. They sent both accounts straight to collections and charged back every dollar of commission I’d made on them.
They didn’t care about my clients. They didn’t care about my family, either, since that commission was money I was counting on.
That’s when it hit me. I’d spent ten years fighting for clients inside a system that was never built with their success in mind first. I could keep fighting a losing fight, or I could find somewhere that actually meant it.
I’d spent ten years fighting for clients inside a system that was never built with their success in mind first.
My wife had been telling me for years I needed to leave. She watched me come home worn down by arguments that weren’t even worth having, felt underappreciated, and knew I needed room to grow, not just for me, but for our family. I’m the only one working in our household, so “grow professionally” isn’t a nice-to-have for me. It’s how I provide.
So when the headhunters started calling again, I finally listened.
Insert Camille
One of the calls led back to Camille.
I actually trained her during her first month in the industry, right after she graduated college, years earlier, and I knew right away she was going to be great. She cared, she was willing to learn, and she never once acted like grunt work was beneath her. She left our previous company after a year of the grind. I knew we lost a great one, but we kept in touch. My wife is actually a better friend to her than I was, but she had reached out in May and asked how I was doing and if I still loved my job, which I did, but I wasn’t listening at that time. Fast forward to July and I called to ask if her company was still hiring. She told me to send my resume.
I ended up interviewing with four other companies around the same time. They all blurred together. But after my interview with Jazmin at CI Web Group, I knew. This was where I wanted to be. They cared about not only their clients but the people who were putting in the work for our clients.
Past 5:00, But Different
At my old job, I was the one texting clients and coworkers late into the night, fighting battles nobody else wanted to fight, advocating for business owners to get shown some love when they were having tough times during hardships and still paying their bills. That part of me didn’t change when I got to CI. What changed was who was on the other end of the phone.
Jennifer and I text late, but it’s not a fight, it’s a partnership. One night at 11:24 PM, it went like this:
Jennifer: Hey
Jennifer: All seasons
Jennifer: I know they approved, I hate the design
Jennifer: Hate
Jennifer: Hate
Jennifer: Hate
Me: lol
Jennifer: Can I redesign
Me: They are good friends of mine! They will let us do whatever we want
Jennifer: Been working on it for 6 hours
That’s the difference. We’re in different time zones, same intensity, completely different conversation… HELP THE CLIENT.
What “Best For the Client” Actually Looks Like
A few months ago I built four landing pages for a client, at no cost. Nobody told me to. I just knew it was what the client needed in that moment. At my old company, that would’ve gotten someone upset because it wasn’t generating revenue. At CI, nobody blinked. Everyone understood: if it’s right for the client, it’s right for us.
That’s the whole philosophy in one story. “If we put in the work, it will always show up.” That’s something a good friend and I used to say back when we were in year one of this wild marketing world, cold-calling fifty businesses a day, driving around town, getting nothing but no’s for a week straight. It’s still true. It just finally landed somewhere that puts the work behind it too.
If we put in the work, it will always show up.
Jennifer
What sealed it for me wasn’t just the philosophy. It was watching it in action. Jennifer will jump on a call with a client herself if that’s what a problem needs. Not because she has to but because she cares about the person on the other end.
She’s a trailblazer, and I mean that specifically: she doesn’t hope, pray, and wait for a better solution to show up. She builds it. Proprietary AI agents that make me better at my job. An entirely new operating system built from scratch when everyone else is too scared of the uncertainty to try. She does it because deep down she knows it’s the right thing for our clients, even when it’s not the easy thing.
I’ve seen the results. Clients using us exclusively, pulling 300 to 500 calls a month from organic search. A 21x ROI in a single month for a client who fully committed to the AI work we were doing. Another client called me to “stop promoting HVAC” due to the amount of leads we had generated. And on the flip side, a client who resisted AI, and was told he “wasn’t the best” for a job, and lost a $20,000 job because of it.
So if there’s one thing I’d tell anyone reading this: don’t be afraid of AI. Learn it, understand it, implement it, let it evolve with you, at work and at home. It’s not here to take over the world like the Terminator. It’s here to make you faster and better at what you already do.
My kids and my close friends see this at home. They’ll ask me a question, watch me talk to my AI (literally) and work through it, and get amazed by it. Sometimes they’ll come back and say “I asked AI and it gave me a dumb answer,” and that’s become one of my favorite teaching moments, showing them that the answer you get is only as good as the question you ask.
The answer you get is only as good as the question you ask.
Where This Goes
I can’t wait to see where the future takes CI Web Group. For everyone who’s all in with us, I’m excited for what’s next, because I’ve already seen what happens when this team puts in the work.
“If we put in the work, it will always show up.”
— Danny Loa, Senior Strategic Account Manager, CI Web Group · August 2026
Some of the people who lived this transition are named elsewhere in this book by the clients they served. Dani is one of them — Frank Cichetti credits her by name in Voices from the Clients. This is her side of it.
Dani Osio
Website Design & Optimization Viber
Standing Still Was Never an Option — by Dani Osio
I’ve been with CI Web Group for several years now, and if there’s one thing I can say with certainty, it’s that standing still has never been an option.
I joined the company as a content writer and have had the opportunity to grow through roles as a Social Media Coordinator, Social Media Manager, Blog Program Manager, and now as a Website Design & Optimization Viber. Each role has challenged me to learn something new, adapt to new technology, and rethink what’s possible.
Working for an AI marketing company that is constantly pushing the boundaries of innovation means you’re never really “done” learning. We strive to be the first adopters, the first to become experts, and the first to embrace change when it means creating something better for our clients. Sometimes that means figuring things out as we go, sometimes it means completely rethinking what we thought we knew, and sometimes… it means holding on for the ride.
And what a ride it has been.
The past several years have been a little crazy at times, but they’ve also been incredibly valuable. I’m grateful to work somewhere that has given me the freedom and opportunity to evolve alongside the technology rather than simply watch it evolve around me.
I’m grateful to work somewhere that has given me the freedom and opportunity to evolve alongside the technology rather than simply watch it evolve around me.
It’s exciting to think about what the next few years could bring. AI is changing faster than any of us can predict, and who knows what’s around the corner — 3D websites? Holographic virtual assistants? Entirely new ways of interacting with brands that we haven’t even imagined yet?
The possibilities are endless.
One thing I am confident about, though, is that when that next wave of change arrives, CI Web Group will be right there leading the charge. And I’m excited to see where we go next.
— Dani Osio, Website Design & Optimization Viber, CI Web Group · August 2026
And the youngest voice in this section is also, improbably, one of the load-bearing ones. Braedn was hired at eighteen to write content. He is twenty-one, and a fair amount of the company now runs on infrastructure he built.
Braedn Heney
AI Infrastructure
Fix What’s Producing It — by Braedn Heney
I have never been able to leave a process alone.
Not in a disciplined way. It’s closer to an itch. If I’m working inside something and I can see a better version of it, I can’t get on with the actual work until the better version exists. That’s most of what I’ve done since I got here, and it’s the only thing I’d claim as a method.
For the record, I was late on my first day. I was heads-down on my computer, phone face down next to me, and when I finally picked it up there was a Google Meet notification sitting there from twenty minutes earlier. I hadn’t known I was supposed to be on a call at all. I was on my way out the door to get food. I ran back inside and joined a meeting that had two people left in it. That was my manager’s first impression of me. I was eighteen.
Jen is my cousin, and there was no posting and no search. I don’t actually know what went into the decision to hire me, and I’m not going to guess at it. What I can tell you is that I was eighteen, I’d been building WordPress sites for a few years, and I’d been running my own marketing work. I’m also not going to pretend that door opened for me the way it opens for most people. What I care about is what I did once I was through it.
Why I See It This Way
I didn’t come to this through code. I came to it through wanting to know why.
Why people do what they do got me into psychology. Psychology got me into marketing. Marketing got me into UX and UI. That’s what got me into building. So I’ve never been able to look at a task as only a task. There’s a person and a business on the other end of it, and there is always something upstream producing it. Once you’re looking upstream, you can’t stop.
That’s the whole thing. Everything below is just what it looks like in practice.
The Sentence I Keep Using
I was hired to write content. The AI was already in use here and the prompts and rules were already written, so none of that started with me. What I did that first stretch was read what came out, find what was wrong with it, and rewrite the instructions until it came out right.
Which is where I got the sentence I’ve used ever since. If the output is bad, don’t fix the output. Fix what’s producing it.
If the output is bad, don’t fix the output. Fix what’s producing it.
Then Blake started, doing content transfer, and we were on calls constantly talking about what we were each working on. One day he walked me through what content transfer actually involved. Open an existing page, copy the design, build the next one by hand, every time, for every article. Nobody asked me to look at it. It just bothered me. So I built it the way I thought it should work, one template and a custom post type, on a single site, and then I showed people. You put the content in and the page exists. Build it once and every post after that populates itself.
Nobody fought me on it. I’ve found that’s usually how it goes. It’s much harder to argue with a working thing than with a suggestion.
It’s much harder to argue with a working thing than with a suggestion.
In Over My Head
Chris was the first person to put AI in front of me, and one of the first things I did with it was rebuild the Nearby Now integration so it would work in Webflow, replicating their PHP plugin against our own web services backend.
That one was genuinely hard. It was the first time I’d deployed real code anywhere other than a WordPress site, and it was in TypeScript, which I’d barely used. All of it was new to me at once and it took me a while to get right. I mention it because I think that’s the actual price of admission here. Not talent. A willingness to work in the open on something you don’t know yet, for as long as it takes to know it.
This Isn’t a Task, It’s a Workflow
I spent a weekend being curious about MCP. There was no problem I was trying to solve. I’d been working in Cursor, read about it, and wanted to see what it could actually do.
Not long after, a one-off landed that needed doing. A batch of support tickets to move out of Zoho Desk and into Asana, a dozen manual steps each. Reply to the client, close the ticket, check whether a developer had already touched it and route it back to the same person, attach the right account manager. I had the time, so I helped.
And looking at it, the thought was: this isn’t a task, it’s a workflow, and workflows are things you can hand to a machine. So that became the first MCP server I built that did real work, with the right tools and the exact procedure written out for it to follow. You gave it a ticket ID and the whole thing happened in about a minute. Then the next one.
The bigger one started as a sentence to Parker. He’d designed something with AI and was about to hand it off to a Webflow team to build. I said, what if we don’t. What if we build the infrastructure around it and ship it as an actual site.
That conversation is the ground floor of Hydra.
I said, what if we don’t. What if we build the infrastructure around it and ship it as an actual site. That conversation is the ground floor of Hydra.
The Part That Isn’t About Systems
For a stretch I ran our offshore team. A full workday, then standups at 10:45 at night. I go to bed early, so I set an alarm for 10:43 to keep from sleeping through it. That alarm still goes off. Sunday through Thursday, every week. I haven’t run those standups in a long time and my phone still buzzes at 10:43.
That stretch taught me the one thing I’ve learned here that has nothing to do with efficiency. You cannot fix people the way you fix a process. You can only be the thing you want them to be. Be kind and be firm. And when you don’t know something, say so out loud, share your screen, and work it out in front of everyone, because pretending costs more than not knowing ever did.
You cannot fix people the way you fix a process. You can only be the thing you want them to be.
Roles, Not People
We went from hundreds of us down to around forty. Here’s how I actually see that.
We don’t lose people. We lose roles. People change roles. My whole approach has been to make things as efficient as they can possibly be, even when that means some job full of manual work stops needing to exist. That isn’t a threat to anyone willing to move. The people we lose are the ones who get attached to one way of working, and around here the way of working has never held still long enough for that to be safe.
Future Me
I’m twenty-one. I was hired here at eighteen to write words, and I now build infrastructure that a fair amount of this company runs on. That isn’t a sentence I could have predicted, and I don’t make plans far enough out to have predicted it.
What I do instead, when there’s a decision in front of me, is ask whether future me is going to be better off, happier, or proud that I made it. It’s a good filter. It kills most of the things that feel good right now and cost you later.
It’s the same question I’ve been asking about every process I’ve touched here. Not is this working. Things can work and still be wrong. Just: is there a better version of this, and am I going to be the one who builds it.
Things can work and still be wrong.
— Braedn Heney, AI Infrastructure, CI Web Group · August 2026
Braedn's letter mentions a colleague who started on content transfer and showed him what the job actually involved — the conversation that produced the first template. This is that colleague, and this is where he ended up.
Blake Lindley
AI Infrastructure
Each Role Was a Chapter — by Blake Lindley
Starting with CI Web Group, I didn’t really know much except the basics — but I knew I had an opportunity to make the most of. I started in content migration, moved into WordPress and Webflow site development & product owner, and now I help manage the infrastructure the company runs on. In each position I’ve been in, I’ve always looked at the bigger picture, trying to save the company time, resources, and money. That mindset is what helped me continuously adapt and learn more quickly in every role I took on.
Each move asked something new of me. Migration taught me the details that actually matter when you touch a client’s content, and how to move efficiently. Development taught me growth across a lot of different facets at once — server management, DNS, frontend, backend and how to build sites that people actually like and that convert. Infrastructure taught me how to read through code quickly and decipher which changes would benefit the company and which ones would hurt it. It also taught me to see through the perspective of the person writing the code, and what they were trying to accomplish. Each role I’ve taken on in this company was a chapter, and each one made the next one possible.
Each role I’ve taken on in this company was a chapter, and each one made the next one possible.
I’m here because I believe this company delivers the best results at the greatest velocity of any marketing company I’ve worked for. This is, by far, the most future-focused company I have ever worked for. We are constantly evolving with new ideas to change the game, and I love it. I’ve watched the work change under my feet more than once, and I’ve watched the company keep aiming ahead of where the industry is.
I’m also here because of the amazing team I get to work with, new experiences and mainly growth. The opportunities I’ve had here didn’t just give me a new title. They made me more versatile in whatever position I take on. When your job keeps evolving, you either get rigid or you get adaptable. This place forced the second option — and I’m meant for it.
When your job keeps evolving, you either get rigid or you get adaptable. This place forced the second option — and I’m meant for it.
— Blake Lindley, AI Infrastructure, CI Web Group · August 2026
Local search is the least glamorous surface in this business and the one where the money actually moves. Kate rebuilt it here from a directory program into a department.
Katelyn Torres
Digital Marketing Manager
The Other Side of Discomfort — by Katelyn Torres
When people think about agency life, they often imagine creative brainstorming sessions, exciting clients, and a fast-paced environment. While those things certainly exist, what they don’t always see is the relentless work happening behind the scenes. Agencies are built on deadlines, constant change, problem-solving, and the ability to pivot without hesitation. I’ve worked in agencies before, so I knew the pace wasn’t for everyone. What I didn’t know was just how much CI Web Group would redefine what I thought an agency could be.
At my core, I’ve always been someone who loves the details. I enjoy digging into processes, uncovering opportunities, and building systems that help businesses grow. Behind every website, every search result, and every marketing campaign is a family, a team, or a business owner who has taken a risk to build something meaningful. Helping them reach their goals has always been the part of marketing that motivates me the most.
A Directory Program That Became a Department
When I joined CI Web Group, I thought I was coming in to manage a directory program. Instead, I found an opportunity that was much bigger than I expected. I saw a chance to rethink how we approached local SEO, and with the support of our leadership, that opportunity turned into a complete overhaul of our local SEO program.
Building something from the ground up wasn’t easy. It meant creating structure where there wasn’t much, documenting processes, testing ideas, refining workflows, and bringing together a team that could execute at a high level. Over time, what started as an evolving department became a well-oiled machine built on consistency, accountability, and continuous improvement. Today, I’m proud of what we’ve created and of the team that makes it successful every day.
One of the things I’m most proud of is the quality of the Google Business Profiles we manage. In the home services industry, local search is incredibly competitive, and excellence comes from paying attention to hundreds of small details that most people never notice. Those details matter because they directly impact the visibility and success of the businesses that trust us with their marketing.
If You See an Opportunity, Build It
CI Web Group has a culture unlike any agency I’ve experienced. You’re expected to think critically, solve problems, and bring new ideas to the table. Waiting for someone else to create change isn’t part of the culture. If you see an opportunity, you’re encouraged to build it.
Waiting for someone else to create change isn’t part of the culture. If you see an opportunity, you’re encouraged to build it.
That expectation creates an environment where you have to be agile. You have to be comfortable with uncertainty, willing to figure things out, and confident enough to test new ideas—even when there isn’t a roadmap. It’s challenging, but it’s also incredibly rewarding because growth happens on the other side of discomfort.
I’ve never worked anywhere that moves as fast as CI Web Group. New strategies become reality in days instead of months. Innovation isn’t something we talk about—it’s something we practice every single day.
That mindset has only accelerated with the integration of artificial intelligence into our work. AI isn’t replacing the expertise of our team; it’s amplifying it. By embedding AI into nearly every part of our workflow, we’re able to work smarter, move faster, and deliver better results for our clients. It allows us to spend less time on repetitive tasks and more time thinking strategically, solving complex problems, and creating meaningful impact.
AI isn’t replacing the expertise of our team; it’s amplifying it.
Growth Doesn’t Happen by Accident
Working at CI Web Group has challenged me in ways I never expected. It has pushed me to become a stronger leader, a better strategist, and a more adaptable professional. It has reinforced something I’ve always believed: hard work creates opportunity. We work hard because our clients depend on us, because our teammates depend on us, and because we’re building something bigger than ourselves.
Our goals are ambitious, and they should be. Growth doesn’t happen by accident. It happens because people are willing to embrace change, continuously improve, and never settle for “good enough.”
That’s the ride I’ve experienced at CI Web Group—a place where ideas become action, challenges become opportunities, and every day brings a chance to build something better than the day before.
— Katelyn Torres, Digital Marketing Manager, CI Web Group · August 2026
Three letters in this section mention her before she speaks. Vee interviewed with her. Danny interviewed with her. DJ was referred in by her. This is Jazmin's own account, and it is the longest in the section.
Jazmin Ramirez
Executive Director of Growth
The People I Show Up For — by Jazmin Ramirez
My day started early and never really stopped. I’d get to the office, pull the inventory report, pull everything for truck stock, go upstairs and talk to the technicians, come back down with the job folders, pass out the day’s jobs, handle dispatch and on call, work through warranty information, make sure every truck had the parts it needed for every job on the board. That was my day. And I want to be clear about something: it wasn’t a grind I was counting the hours through. I loved it. I loved the people, the pace, the problem solving, the technicians. If you’d asked me back then if I needed something more, I would have told you no.
I met Jennifer almost by accident. My boss needed help handling the marketing side of our business, and we’d set up a call with her company to talk it through. I jumped on expecting a vendor conversation. One of the sales managers was on first, sweet and easy to talk to, and we started working through a plan. Then Jennifer joined the call.
We started building out ideas together, back and forth, and somewhere in that conversation something shifted in me. I remember thinking, holy shit, I actually know marketing. Not because anyone told me so. Because I was sitting there talking through strategy from both sides, the company’s and the client’s, and I could articulate things I didn’t know I understood that clearly. I had spent years looking at problems from the technician’s side, the dispatcher’s side, the customer’s side. Turns out that gives you a kind of instinct for this work that you don’t get any other way.
It would be a full year before I actually started at CI Web Group. That conversation didn’t lead anywhere right away. But it planted something. For the first time, I got a glimpse of a version of myself I hadn’t met yet.
Jennifer didn’t chase me. I chased her.
We became a client of CI Web Group, and I worked closely with Jamal, my account manager, and Kim. Every single call, I’d ask the same question: are you guys hiring? I want to work for you. I was learning the business from the client’s side, watching how they worked, and I wanted in. I kept at it, stalking, not stopping, if I’m honest, until Jennifer finally answered.
She said alright, let’s do an interview. I sat down with Bin, Jamal, William, and Mandeep, and more than one of them told me afterward they didn’t even know why they were bothering to interview me, because Jennifer had already decided.
I got the offer. And then I hesitated.
That season of my life was already a transition I hadn’t asked for. I’d lost my grandfather, and I was navigating a kind of grief I’d never had to sit with before. I think that loss is part of what kept pushing me toward Jennifer in the first place, some feeling that I needed to be moving toward something, even if I couldn’t have explained why at the time.
But when the offer actually came, I struggled. Because I loved what I did. I loved the people I worked for. I loved the company I was already building something inside of. Leaving wasn’t the easy yes people might assume it was.
What tipped it, honestly, was the people. I’d always loved that part of the trades world, being in the middle of it with the technicians, the customers, the day to day of it. But I’d moved further into operations, and that side of me was quietly being edged out. At CI Web Group, I saw a different version of that same love. Instead of one company’s worth of people, I’d get to work alongside dozens of them, owners fighting for their businesses the same way the people I already loved had fought for theirs. That’s what did it. I knew I had to say yes.
I never felt out of my depth in the early years. I came in already knowing how to build systems and processes from my time in operations, and I just applied that. I built my client list, built my process, and executed it. What helped most, I think, was that I listened closely to Jennifer, and whatever she said, I didn’t sit on it. I’d make the adjustment immediately and follow it. That habit carried me through every step of the climb, Western Regional Manager, Web Director, Director of Growth.
The moment I actually felt out of my depth didn’t come until the last year and a half, when we started seriously focusing on AI. For the first time, I couldn’t just recall my way through it. Things were moving faster than my instincts could keep up with, and I had to sit with that discomfort honestly. I had to acknowledge that I was outside my comfort zone, and that the only way through it was to learn. Not eventually. Now. Because if I didn’t learn it, my team couldn’t learn it from me. And if I didn’t learn it, the clients I was responsible for were going to feel it. So I started building.
I got in with our AI developers who were working on websites, and I learned the tools myself, put them on my own computer, and started pulling client sites into the platform to understand what we were actually doing, not just approving it from a distance. Then came a bigger shift: rebuilding our CRM system, which meant working directly alongside our AI engineers, learning new vocabulary, new processes, procedures that didn’t exist a year ago. Nine years in, I couldn’t lean on what I already knew. There were moments I had to just stop and say, holy smokes, give my brain a second to catch up so the lightbulb could actually click. And through all of it, I still had a legacy business to run. The old systems didn’t pause while the new ones got built.
The Hard Part I Don’t Usually Say Out Loud
If I’m honest about the CRM transition, there were mistakes. Things I rolled out before they were ready. Things I bypassed that should have gotten more time and more thought. I was trying to keep the legacy business running while giving the new system the attention it actually needed, and I couldn’t fully do both at once. Something always got shortchanged.
There’s a specific kind of hard in trying to adapt, trying to be all in, trying to hold the vision of what it’s going to become while you’re still standing in the mess of getting there. It’s hard getting to the place where you can see it’s going to work out the way you’re dreaming it will, while you’re still answering questions from your team in real time, still running the old systems underneath your feet. And the thing I struggled with most wasn’t the technology itself. It was this: just because I understood something didn’t mean my team understood it yet. I’d get the lightbulb moment, and I’d forget that everyone else was still standing in the dark I’d just walked out of.
I’d get the lightbulb moment, and I’d forget that everyone else was still standing in the dark I’d just walked out of.
What Changed in the People Around Me
AI didn’t just change our tools. It changed what sales, account management, finance, onboarding, and customer success actually needed to look like day to day. Some roles, as they existed, weren’t needed in the same way anymore. That’s a hard thing to sit across from someone and explain, especially when they’ve been doing that job well for years. It’s not that they failed. The job itself moved.
The bigger challenge, honestly, was the resistance that came before any of that. People didn’t automatically want to use it. A lot of them didn’t know how. I had to teach people not just that AI existed as a tool, but how to actually use it, how to prompt it, what to ask it, what it was actually good for in their day to day work. That’s a different kind of training than anything I’d done before. You’re not just teaching a process. You’re teaching someone to think alongside something new, and some people took to that immediately, and some people needed a lot more patience and a lot more repetition before it clicked.
When Someone Couldn’t Come With Us
I’ve had this conversation more than once, and it never got easier. There are team members who aren’t here anymore because they couldn’t adapt, or they held onto resistance longer than the pace of change allowed for. That’s an extremely hard thing to sit with, because you genuinely want them to learn it. You want them to be more efficient, to manage their time better, to feel confident instead of behind. But teaching someone to prompt, to actually think alongside AI instead of just clicking through steps, only works if they’re asking questions when they get lost. If they don’t ask, they fall behind quietly. And then the next shift happens, because it always does, and now they’re further behind than before. You’re trying to catch them up and keep moving at the same time, and sometimes there just isn’t enough runway to do both.
What I’d Tell Someone Starting This Today
Be flexible. That’s the honest advice. This is going to shift every single day, and it’s not going to stop shifting. If you can accept that going in, instead of waiting for it to settle down, you’ll do fine. Take the time to actually understand the infrastructure underneath whatever you’re building, don’t just learn the surface of it. And make time to review, to edit, to go back over what you’ve already done, because the version you built last month probably isn’t the version you need now. The people who struggle most are the ones waiting for solid ground. There isn’t any right now. There’s just the next adjustment, and the one after that.
The people who struggle most are the ones waiting for solid ground. There isn’t any right now.
The People Who Made This Possible
None of this happened alone, and I want to name some of the people who carried me through it.
Camille is always there to challenge me, to make sure I’m fully thinking things through instead of settling for the easy answer, and to push me to be a better leader. She’s a firecracker. She’ll tell me exactly what she thinks, and she’s always, always there for me.
Liz, I watched her when she was just starting out here, and I got to help guide her early on. Now she’s passed me in web, learned more than I could have taught her, and she’s more than a coworker to me. She’s a friend. A sister.
Ms. Kathy is my cheerleader. She’s the one always in my corner, checking in during the hard times to make sure I’m actually doing okay, or helping me see where I need to put my time and energy when I can’t see it myself.
Allula has taught me so much, on SEO and honestly on anything else I don’t fully understand. He’s the person I go to when I need something broken down until it makes sense.
Melanie is blunt and fierce. She has no problem telling me when I’m wrong, or straight up yelling at me to do better. I’m forever grateful for the friendship we have, and for the no bullshit she gives me, because I need that more than I need someone to just agree with me.
Why I Still Show Up
Nine years in, I wouldn’t call it drinking from a fire hose. I’d call it adapting. Google changes the rules, and we adapt. A client’s business shifts, and we adapt. AI rewrote how we build websites and manage our CRM, and we adapted again. That’s the actual rhythm of working here. It’s constant, but it’s not chaos. It’s just what the work requires.
All of that adapting didn’t happen in a vacuum, either. In 2023 I got married to an amazing man, and I kept working, kept learning, kept evolving, right alongside everything else happening at the company. Then I got pregnant, and I remember getting nervous. What does this mean for work? But I kept doing what I knew I was best at, kept pushing quietly, staying available even on maternity leave, still learning, still evolving, while we kept moving through the AI transition and everything CI Web Group was becoming.
And then, in the middle of my personal life, my mom got cancer. I remember exactly where I was when I found out. I was at dinner in Las Vegas with Lori from Eagle Pipe, our client, and Christina from Evoka, a rep. I was there representing Women in HVACR, a board I’d joined in January of 2026, working the event alongside Lori. In the middle of dinner, my brother texted me asking if I’d talked to my mom. I hadn’t. I was in Vegas, at work, and that’s how I found out.
Internally, I was struggling with all of it at once. Am I showing up enough for work? Am I showing up for my team? Is this going to be enough? How am I supposed to do all of this at the same time? And then my team showed up for me. Clay and Mike text me every single day. How’s today going. How are you doing. I’m thinking about you. Small messages, but they’re the thing that got my brain to start working again some mornings. Chelsea showed up at my actual house, in person, just to make sure I was okay.
There’s a phrase we say a lot at CI Web Group: so what, now what. In this position, in this season of my life, that phrase can sound heartless from the outside. But it’s true, and I need it to be true, because there is so much happening here, so much we’re building, and my focus has to stay there. That’s the strange part of this stretch of my life. So much happening, so much to learn, so much that’s genuinely exciting, and at the same time a normal life underneath it that still needs me present, that I still have to show up for, and you have to hold both without letting either one slip.
That’s why, from the outside, people see the social media posts and assume this is easy. They don’t see the blood, sweat, and tears behind it. The countless nights we’re up working through problems for our clients and for this industry. We are genuinely trying to change how home services gets marketed, bringing an entire industry into the AI era, and that is empowering, even on the hardest days. Jennifer is on the road constantly, back to back across coastlines, just to educate people. Clay and Mike are out there doing the same thing, educating consumers, manufacturers, distributors, partners, vendors, on what’s coming. That’s the scale of what we’re actually doing while all of this is happening in our personal lives too.
Nine years later, here’s why I show up. I show up for my team, because if I don’t, they feel it. I show up for my clients, because if I don’t, they feel that too. Our clients are blue collar families who have put everything they have into their businesses. I’ve been on the phone with owners who were scared they couldn’t make payroll that month. That’s not abstract to me. I came from that world. So I show up to do whatever it takes to be part of their success, because somebody showing up for them matters more than they usually say out loud.
Jennifer
I was 25 years old when I started working for you. Writing all of this out brought me back to the earlier days, sitting in meetings with you and the whole team, figuring things out as we went, ad hoc, grinding through it together. People say you shouldn’t call work a family. I do anyway, because that’s what it was, and in a lot of ways still is. We’d work it out together, and at the end of the day, I was with them, and they were there for me.
You’ve shaped parts of who I am. You helped me see a version of myself I never would have found on my own. Nine years later, I’m still learning, still evolving, still being pushed, and no matter how much I push back, or how much you push back at me, you always show up. The people who only see you from the outside don’t get to see how much you actually care, how much you love this team, how much of your own time and yourself you pour into this company. They don’t see that part of you.
I’m forever grateful to be part of CI Web Group, and to work as closely with you as I do. It’s rough sometimes. But I know that at the end of the day, we’re doing this for something bigger than either of us. For our team. Our family. Our clients. Our industry.
Jennifer has shown me a version of myself I never would have found on my own.
— Jazmin Ramirez, Executive Director of Growth, CI Web Group · August 2026
And the last letter promised in this section is the one that closes it. Chelsea runs operations. She was in the room for most of the decisions the earlier letters describe from the outside.
Chelsea Nodine
Executive Director of Operations
Outside the Comfort Zone — by Chelsea Nodine
There’s a common saying that growth is what happens when you step outside of your comfort zone. Even as I typed that, the auto complete was finishing the sentence for me. In my life, I have chased growth, looked for ways to improve, to be a better mom, a better wife, a better human. But I did not know what it was like to truly operate outside my comfort zone until I met Jennifer Bagley.
When I first received a cold LinkedIn email from CI Web Group, I was just starting to plan a timeline for dusting off my resume and looking for a new role. Jenn likes to tell the story of how I cut off a former VP who was interviewing me so I could get to my own questions before time was up. I don’t recall that particular moment, but I do remember having so much I wanted to ask and watching the hour run out. I’ve always approached interviews by being as authentic as possible, assertiveness included. If they can’t handle who I actually am, I don’t want to work there. It must have worked. A few hours later I had an accepted offer, and I spent the next week reminding myself that this whirlwind hire actually happened.
The Deep End
On day one, I was thrown into the deep end. On day three, Jennifer called me at 6:30 AM and this non-morning person wondered where she had landed. We had a client meeting that morning and Jenn wanted to align on what we were presenting. Meanwhile, I just wanted to still be sleeping. By week two I was mentally drained every single day. Stimulated, finally — and exhausted by it. The thing about Jennifer is she doesn’t wait for you to catch up, which is sometimes frustrating. I like planned out communication schedules, known deadlines, organized projects. She likes things done yesterday, in the moment, without a plan, get it done. You can see how that could clash.
I spent the first four months at CI Web switching between feeling exhilarated and terrified. I felt like a fish out of water, a complete impostor. I just knew Jennifer could see right through me to all my failings. And I wasn’t wrong, she did see right through me. Through all my fear of not being good enough to my potential. Through all my mistakes to the growth it was building. Through the box I had unknowingly put myself in to the firecracker dying to get (back) out.
I knew I could do the job but I was not used to what felt like constant questioning. Why is it this way, why did you do this, why did your team do this, why isn’t this done yet, why didn’t you use this process?
I’ll never forget the terror I felt when a random 3pm Friday meeting showed up on my calendar with our C Suite. I managed to convince myself I was about to be fired. I’m the primary breadwinner in our home. Not having a job isn’t an option. Full stop. In that room, Jennifer looked at me and said “You are about to be the SEO Director for the agency working with the biggest manufacturer in the world. You can do it but you have to dig deep and really want it.” I left that conversation and went to BOLD with her challenge fresh in my mind.
BOLD
For those that don’t know, BOLD is an intense immersive leadership retreat unlike any you have ever experienced. It is life changing. Yes I know that sounds cliche. Yes I’m sure you’ve been to something you think is similar and it can’t be that different. You’re wrong. It is filled with moments that require extreme vulnerability. During one particularly impactful fireside process, I realized the root of my impostor syndrome: I never feel good enough. I wrote that on a board, then karate chopped it to see the literal break. I still have the broken board, a physical reminder of the breakthrough I experienced. I came back with a vengeance. I had a newfound purpose and a goal: to be the best SEO Director the world’s biggest manufacturer deserved. In hindsight, that seems so narrow-minded; my role has grown to encompass so much more than that.
I realized the root of my impostor syndrome: I never feel good enough. I wrote that on a board, then karate chopped it to see the literal break. I still have the broken board.
Change Started Small
Growth is a way of life at CI Web, and I was about to move through the biggest season of it I’d ever experienced. When you work for startups and smaller companies, you get used to having your hands in everything. Everyone is a little scrappy and surviving means having the grit to get it done. But CI Web wasn’t a startup, it was a 320+ person company with a C suite, a full team of directors and managers and layers upon layers of people. We moved slowly, slogging through process changes and rounds of approvals. We had a leadership team full of friction. We had team members spinning their wheels with busy work. We had an unchecked and unmanaged contractor team. I’m not pointing fingers, we were all guilty to some degree. And we weren’t going to grow without serious change.
Change started small. Closer looks at what everyone was actually accomplishing. How valuable is that role, that tool, that vendor, that contractor? We started shrinking and stayed productive, so we kept going. We knew we could do things better, faster, and more efficiently, so we stress-tested the system. Anyone who had been skating by did not make the cut. We replaced individuals with improved processes, talked openly about automations and how we could reduce resource expenses, and left no stone unturned. We didn’t just evaluate people — we went through every piece of the business looking for waste. Software subscriptions were one example. Jennifer would travel, come back, look at her Amex bill, and have no context for half the charges, so she’d just start canceling things. One day she called me, frustrated: “I need someone to get in the weeds and pay attention.” I told her to give it to me. We audited every recurring subscription, questioned how needed it was, checked usage, and removed seats. We found gaps in our offboarding process where former employees and clients were never removed from the software, so we kept paying for things nobody was using. In the first year alone, just from paying attention, we saved over $150,000. We raised the bar and stopped accepting mediocre work. The team continued to shrink. Teams get squirrely when roles start disappearing but when we started trimming leadership, people were downright scared. Some decided to jump ship.
In the first year alone, just from paying attention, we saved over $150,000.
We had hard conversations. Harder than I’ve ever had to have in my life. I was in the room, and more often than I preferred, I was the one who had to make the call. That meant deciding about people I liked and respected, knowing that choosing to let someone go could also make life harder for everyone who stayed. Living with that is hard. It sucks. At one point I texted Jennifer in tears and asked, “How do you make the choice that your friend no longer has a job?” Some of those conversations turned out differently than I feared — there were times Jennifer and I found another way instead of letting someone go. Other times we got it wrong before we got it right: some people were put in unfair positions, we didn’t bring them along and train them the way we should have, and then they weren’t what we needed anymore. That’s on us. It’s hard to sit with. Leaders make decisions that ripple through people’s lives, and I was making calls I knew would be remembered as a bad moment in someone’s career. But not making the choice would have weakened the team we were trying to build.
Disagree But Commit
Many times I didn’t agree with the decisions we made, and I pushed back in many spirited debates. I was adamant that someone shouldn’t be promoted, and they were anyway. I didn’t think we were ready to move to a new system — communication around it was sloppy — but it rolled out regardless. More than once I thought we were rushing, and we forged ahead anyway. Sometimes I was right. Sometimes I wasn’t. In leadership, there are times you have to say your piece and then agree to disagree. I once had a boss who called this “disagree but commit.” Disagreeing is fine in the room, in the debate — that’s where it belongs. But once a decision was made, the leadership team had to be aligned in front of everyone else. So regardless of my personal view, I led my teams forward in whatever direction we landed on. I’d already had my chance to make my case.
This clashed with how I prefer to function. I like to plan; this required me to act. But how I operate has slowly changed too. I’m faster to make hard calls now. I don’t spend as much time planning as I used to — and if I’m honest, some of that planning always came from my fear of not being good enough. The more I could think through every possible scenario, the more validating feedback I could get, and the higher my confidence. Acting fast meant I didn’t have the luxury of stewing in decisions I didn’t like anymore or time to second guess myself. I had to learn to dive right in and risk being wrong. But that lesson was never really about the action — it was about learning to trust myself. I already knew what to do. I just needed the confidence to actually believe it. There were places I should have jumped in sooner. When everyone around me was learning new platforms and vibe coding, I kept operating the old way for months longer than I needed to. Once I finally jumped in, I didn’t just have fun with it, I was able to coach my team through the same jump instead of watching from the sidelines.
The thing is, what got you here won’t get you there. Again, cliche, but true. Not everyone can make the transition from what it takes to build and run a $15 million dollar company to what it requires to operate at $50 million, etc. Through it all, we did not hide what we were doing. We painted the picture of our goals to be a smaller company and rely more on automations and AI. We invited people to come along with us. We gave direction, asked for input. Those that jumped in and learned stayed. Those that didn’t evolve chose to leave themselves behind.
Those that jumped in and learned stayed. Those that didn’t evolve chose to leave themselves behind.
You Deserve to Have a Strong Team
We have an amazing team, and it didn’t happen by accident. Jennifer is a visionary who never stops pushing all of us to level up. It’s not encouragement. It’s a requirement. I’m a big fan of Hamilton, and there’s a description of him in the show that could just as easily be about her — someone who never hesitates, never holds back, keeps winning no matter what gets thrown at her, and changes the game and raises the stakes every time she plays. Another leader in our company once told me, “You deserve to have a strong team.” I agreed and moved on from that conversation, the way you do when something sounds nice but doesn’t fully land yet. Two years later I am finally seeing exactly what they meant. Right now our team is 38 people, down from over 320. Every person is strong enough that we spend our time working, not covering for each other. Work doesn’t land in our lap because someone else dropped the ball. We get our work done, we help each other when we can, and we can depend on the rest of the team doing the same. It’s a far cry from the bloat and politics we used to have. Managers do not waste time babysitting laziness. Nothing is manual unless there’s truly no alternative, and even then we’re still always looking for a way to automate it. Every person knows every person on the team. I once sat in a meeting where Jennifer and other leaders didn’t even recognize the names of whose jobs we were discussing. That never happens anymore.
None of that happens without the right people. A few of them make this job what it is for me personally. I love my girls Melanie and Jazmin, fiercely. Together with Jennifer, the four of us are a powerhouse dream team of women running this business. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
When I first started at CI Web, someone told me, “I go where Jennifer goes. I don’t care about CI Web. I care about her.” At the time, I thought, it’s just a job. Now I get what they meant.
I’ve also been so blessed to bring one of my best friends into this company and get to work alongside him. Seth is such a dynamic leader, and he’s pushed me to grow in more ways than one. He’s taken over things I used to handle myself, and it’s humbling in the best way to watch someone who reports to me outperform me at my old job. I had to learn to appreciate our differences instead of getting jealous or worrying that his success would somehow diminish mine.
It’s impossible to name everyone in our company who has touched me without naming all 38 of them, but I want to call out a few I work closest with, all strong operators in their own right: Ryan, who is so passionate about excellence and making sure things actually get done. Hoda, who has a great eye for detail, is endlessly proactive, and always has a cat story ready to swap with me. Kate, the most organized and hardworking human I know. One day we will combine our love for homesteading and be unstoppable. Lori, who has taught me so much about how our AP works as we partner on internal subscriptions, making sure everyone has what they need. She always has kind words for me and can cheer me up no matter how bad my day is. Addison, who has a gift for spotting roadblocks before they become problems and is never afraid of giving feedback. Allula, who has grown by leaps and bounds since I met him and can figure out absolutely anything. Vee, my fellow redheaded wine-drinking Oregonian. And the whole tech team — Chris, Blake, Braedn, Marcos — some of the nicest humans you’ll ever meet. They’ve never once made me feel stupid for asking a question, and they’ve taught me more than they probably realize.
Jennifer’s gift of vision doesn’t just extend to our business roadmap. It extends to the team as well. Just like she saw me, she sees everyone. Their potential. Their drive. Their determination. She pulls them out of their ordinary and invites them to dream bigger. Do more. She doesn’t celebrate when someone levels up. She simply expects it, every time. That’s hard. She gives direct feedback, sometimes very publicly. But if you know Jenn at all, her intention is never mean. It’s never “you’re bad” — it’s “here’s the problem, this is wrong, we need to change this, I would do it this way.” It can come out harsh. But it stems from a deep caring and a deep desire for everyone to succeed. I’ve also watched Jennifer grow and evolve right alongside me. I don’t think she knew what to do with me at first. But she learned how I operate, and now I notice her saying things like, “I know you need a minute to process and think,” before pushing for an immediate answer. She’s made an effort to communicate the good things she sees, too. Earlier this week, she asked Melanie and me to schedule 30 minutes with her, and the entire sync was her naming off things she’d noticed me doing recently that she loved and wanted more of. That was it. A full 30 minutes, just so the praise didn’t get lost in the shuffle. It’s things like that — not the big moments, the small deliberate ones — that is why I stay and keep building with her, why I keep going on this journey no matter how rocky it gets.
She doesn’t celebrate when someone levels up. She simply expects it, every time.
The Island of Misfit Toys
One day earlier in our transformation she asked me to head a department she was creating. That department was a lot of things under one umbrella — helpdesk, QA, and a small team of AI developers building automations. I joked that it was the island of misfit toys. She initially pitched it to me as Director of IT. It was out of my comfort zone. It wasn’t a role I had ever considered.
I have spent my entire career in marketing, with a heavy emphasis on SEO. I’d just grown from Senior SEO Director into Senior Marketing Director, picking up our advertising work along the way. I’m tech-minded — I grew up with a software engineer dad who built things like DNA-analysis programs — but I went to school for biology and never finished. I got my start in marketing as a part-time writer, six months pregnant and desperate for a job. Me, an IT director? Not on my bingo card for this lifetime.
I actually asked her if it was a pity role. She was shocked I’d even thought that, and rattled off the reasons she wanted me there: I’m pragmatic, I’m good at project management, I don’t let people push me around, I apply logic, I think strategically. She landed on a different title instead: Senior Director of Digital Transformation.
But I said yes and learned more than I ever imagined. It set me up for where we are now.
I Do Myself
The role taught me how to support the tech side of the business by protecting the team’s time. I took over minor troubleshooting, platform changes, basic setups — nothing that required a developer, just some learning and an innate curiosity about how things work. I’ve never liked relying on other people to handle things for me; I’m told my first sentence as a baby was “I do myself,” and that’s a trait I’ve carried my whole life. So instead of having the team handle something for me, I’d ask them to show me how to do it myself. It let me become the first line of defense, take over training other teams, and free up real engineering time for the things that actually needed a developer.
Eventually the production team moved under my umbrella, marketing came back to me, and the content team followed. At one point I was leading over 80 people — more than double the size of our entire company as of this writing. As the tech team’s role kept growing, it became obvious I wasn’t the right person to lead it long-term, and we rightfully promoted Chris to CTO to work more closely with Jennifer on that department’s direction. We’ve evolved so much that traditional roles barely make sense anymore. What needs to get done, who’s the best person to do it, whether we need to shift anything to make that happen — that’s mostly how we operate now.
The impostor feeling I described earlier was never really about competence, it was about perception. The truth is, I don’t actually care about SEO but it’s where I’m most experienced. I’ve wanted to move into operations for a long time, and I felt like a fraud because I knew I wasn’t living up to what I believed an SEO director should be.
The wrong mindset cost me. The first time I had to let someone go, I wasn’t able to replace them. It froze me. For a long time after that, I avoided making hard calls about people, which meant I spent my time, and everyone else’s, babysitting problems I should have solved.
At some point I realized that living in that impostor mindset was never going to get me to where I actually wanted to go. So I started owning operations wherever I could, even while I was technically still boxed into SEO. When we adopted Asana, I refused to hand it off — even though we had an actual director of project management at the time — and I built out our entire company in it, every board, every rule, every template, customized for every team, in three weeks. I’ve never seen it done in under three months anywhere else. I started asking myself, if I were acting like a COO right now, what would I do differently? I still don’t get it right all the time. But I try a lot more than I used to.
Moving the Pipeline
Today I still oversee our SEO team, but I primarily own Operations. My title is literally Executive Director of Operations. One day I want to be COO.
Just this week, I was sick of running our production pipeline off a spreadsheet that wasn’t working anymore. I’d wanted to move it back to Asana for a while, but it was a process Jenn dictated, and I hadn’t been willing to contradict her. I finally had enough. In a meeting with two of my directors, I said, “I’m moving this into Asana right now. Jennifer named me Executive Director of Operations, and I’m just going to tell her this is what the company needs to operate effectively.” A couple of them wished me luck, and I could tell from their faces they didn’t think Jennifer would go for it. But I know something they don’t: Jennifer loves when people tell her how it needs to be done. She might not agree with the choice, but she loves when someone owns it. Her response to my executive decision was a request to see it before it rolled out and a promise from me that it would stay updated. I would not have been that assertive when I started. Now it’s my normal way of operating.
Growth outside your comfort zone isn’t just a saying to me anymore. I know exactly what it means now, and it isn’t a sentence autocomplete could ever finish for me. It’s deciding to move the pipeline before you’ve gotten permission. It’s trusting that you already know what to do. That’s the growth Jennifer pulled out of me — not by celebrating it when it showed up, but by expecting it all along.
It’s deciding to move the pipeline before you’ve gotten permission. It’s trusting that you already know what to do.
— Chelsea Nodine, Executive Director of Operations, CI Web Group · August 2026
Every letter promised for this edition has now arrived. The section grows as the team keeps living the transition. That is the point.
Chris Heney
Part 1: Preface
I did not grow up thinking I was poor. I had great parents, so I did not have much reason to. My dad did whatever work was in front of him: putting waterbeds together, turning wrenches at Texaco, then building his own mechanic shop. My mom could take almost nothing and turn it into an adventure.
Every so often, my parents would drive two hundred miles round trip and come home with one of those giant compressed bundles of Salvation Army clothes. Dad would cut the plastic tie with a knife, and suddenly there would be two hundred and fifty pounds of clothes exploding into the living room of our single-wide trailer. It was not depressing. It was fucking Christmas. I would dive into it like Scrooge McDuck.
That was my childhood. I did not know I was supposed to be embarrassed by it. I just knew my parents gave me everything they could.
Before I had a computer, I had a Phillips screwdriver and a book called How Things Work. I can still remember the cover. I was fascinated by it. The screwdriver was my favorite toy, and I took apart everything I could get my hands on. I did not know it at the time, but that instinct became the foundation for almost everything else: computers, networks, software, business, people. If something had parts, I wanted to know how they worked together.
At five, they scraped together enough money to get me an Amiga. Years later I found out my dad sold his Gibson guitar to take me to an amusement park for my sixteenth birthday. That is the kind of stuff you do not fully understand until you are older. They knew computers were the future, even if neither one of them had a map for what I was supposed to do with one.
Fortunately, I had Kevin.
On visits to Kevin and Linda’s house, I started seeing that there was a difference between having enough and having more. They had a pool with a diving board. They had a refrigerator that gave you water out of the door. I remember asking my mom why we did not have those things. I was not angry about it. I was a kid trying to understand why one family had a pool and another family made a bale of clothes feel like Christmas. That was probably the beginning of my financial awareness.
Jennifer’s dad was doing things with computers that looked like magic to me. He gave me his old PC Magazine issues and access to his MSDN subscription, and he had the kind of confidence around a machine that makes a kid think, oh, this is not a toy. This is a door. I had a computer too, so in my mind the only logical conclusion was that I could figure out whatever he had figured out. I was just going to have to learn faster.
Omak did not have the internet yet, but that did not slow me down. I was dialed. I found BBSs, MUDs, remote systems, and people who knew things nobody in my town could teach me. My parents mostly knew I was tying up the phone line and racking up long-distance charges.
For a long time, Kevin was the only person I knew who felt like he saw the same thing in a computer that I saw. Then I found people behind those screens. We had handles instead of names, no faces, and no reason to care what anyone wore or where they came from. We cared whether you could keep up, whether you had figured something out, whether you were willing to teach it when you had. I was still alone in my town, but I was not alone anymore.
Around the same time, I started noticing the difference between what my friends had and what I had. Brand-name clothes. Sound systems. Cars. The stuff that seems stupid until you are young enough for it to matter. I worked hard—mowing lawns, bucking hay, cutting wood, washing car parts in solvent tanks—but I hated it. Not because I was afraid of work. I was just lazy in the way engineers are lazy: I hate doing the same thing twice.
The only thing between me and the tools I wanted was money. The only thing between me and money was knowledge. That equation has been running in my head ever since.
At fifteen, I had control of every computer and the entire school network. Every machine carried some part of my personal collection of Trojan horses. I had figured out the computer lab’s preparation process, found the weak point in the images being pushed to the machines, and added just enough social engineering to make the whole thing beautiful. I had taught myself enough to see how everything fit together and enough to make myself very hard to ignore.
Eventually, the accusations became loud enough that I ended up in juvenile diversion and could not touch a computer my senior year. The network administrator, Brent Busching, spent that summer teaching me how to build networks instead of just find my way around them.
The Army Reserve was not one clean chapter in my life; it ran alongside a lot of them. It gave me a way out of a small town and back toward an education. Believe it or not, this was orchestrated by Jennifer and her friend LT Lawrence Reid of the Seattle Recruiting Battalion. After a grueling 9 months or so of OSUT (One Station Unit Training: AKA Basic+AIT) I was back to a semi-normal life. Between everything else, I wrote software for recruiting, personnel reporting, and training exercises.
I didn't realize it at the time, but almost every pivotal moment in my life she was a part of.
I was cross-leveled to the 1016th Quartermaster Company as an 88M—truck driver. That was the job on paper. In reality, I started writing software and building networks because I could see information moving around slower than it needed to. I built wide-area links out of Pringles cans and coffee cans to move information faster than somebody walking a convoy manifest from a motor pool miles away to the TOC. Eventually, I was pulled out of fourth platoon into HHD/HHC and then into the 260th Combat Sustainment Battalion.
I built a logistics application called CADENCE—Combined Army Data Application for the Combat Environment that ended up being the epicenter for all movement, convoy logistic management, digital "load cards" tracking all sensitive items in theatre.
I did not know the phrase “scope creep” yet. That probably helped.
Part 2: Out of the Ashes of a Broken Economy
Just prior to my departure to Iraq, Kevin, Linda, and Jennifer gave me my first real software job through Compliments International. They asked whether I could program in PHP and Joomla.
“Hell yes,” I said.
I had no idea what I was doing.
I was scared shitless, but I knew I could learn. See, Jennifer thought she taught me "fake it till you make it, and make sure you make it", but apparently it was in our blood. I thought of it more as a "quantum yes" - as in, that the future answer is the right answer because time doesn't technically exist.
Compliments International was a great idea at a bad time: basically Groupon before Groupon, but for B2B. The economy was falling apart. Businesses were closing faster than they could be added. By the time I came home from Iraq, Jennifer had stood up 3 businesses, Compliments International, Special Agents Realty, Polaris Financial Services and Business Blitz. She had invested so much she had a lien against her house and was barely keeping the lights on. The mortgage and real estate business that was once thriving was going through one of the most consequential economic tornadoes, with sub prime lending going under, banks closing daily, and it required her to become the best marketer you could imagine.
After returning from Iraq, I had 2 options (as I understood it at the time): A GS-13 Step 6 government job in Newport News, VA - or a big salary in San Diego, from the software company Tapestry Solutions whose satellite feed I'd "tapped into" with a MITM "approach" - I figured - why not, the XML isn't encrypted. Instead, I decided to come visit my cousin in Plano, TX for a week ... or so I thought.
While in her beautiful home I learned first hand about what had happened with the economy. I was devastated at the situation. Little did I know at the time, but that wouldn't be the first time Jennifer was to get knocked down, and also little did I know that the toughest bitch I would ever know in my life, was my flesh and blood.
I have always been protective of Jennifer. Back then, if anybody said something less than kind about her, I was ready to aardvark them. If you know, you know.
At the time, Jennifer also had rooms full of business owners every week through her business networking chapters at Business Blitz. But luncheons didn't exactly pay the bill. So, I had a brilliant idea (or at least I thought it was my idea, but later, I realized things like that were also by her design); that we should combine what we were both good at and make a shitload of money. So ... we did. CI Web Group was born from a small team within Compliments International that was technically the web and marketing department.
"Build your own websites" - training. Don't get left in the dust. Come to think about it, the message hasn't changed much. Jennifer and I have always been thought leaders, hands down. She took the time to understand me, just like her father did. But she could package it up and make it sound like poetry on stage. "Yellow Pages are dead!" was her message. "Pizza and laundry cleaners" she used to say, "if you aren't a pizza shop or dry cleaners then you are wasting your money!" She would have everybody hold up their hands: "who has ordered from the yellow pages in the last year?" ... "6 months?", half would drop. Then she said: "That doesn't include pizza, drycleaning, ..." and a few others I forgot. It was amazing. The entire audience was so engaged. Her energy was ... is ... like a gravitational/magnetic field all of her own.
We started selling websites at $600, then $1200, then $1500 and settled at $3000 to $3500. We ended up getting more customers by charging more money, which allowed us to build a better team. We were very early adopters to WordPress- Matt Mullenweg had just recently come out with it as a replacement for MovableType. What used to be free. Even though WordPress only had a 3% to 4% marketshare, we went with it anyway. In the early days, just like today, my technology decisions are not questioned. And I love her for that.
I was cranking out two or three a week. Jennifer also taught me how to buy 2 cars in 1 day because we could afford to, based on our new revenue stream, but that wasn't something that creditors understood. Jennifer got a sexy black luxurious Chrysler 300, I got a matching blue Sebring convertible. It wasn't exactly 2 matching Jaguars, but I thought it was pretty badass.
We worked our asses off, week over week, meal-preping all day Sunday. She would feed me while I coded. I kind of miss the old days when I started to develop a multiple personality disorder from being referred to in the plural sense: "Our development team", and "our software developers." I remember our first "office" - it was strategically located at the Shops at Legacy. Jen knew real estate and location - right where 121 and Dallas North Tollway met. Our first hire was Aaron Gerring, an assistant. Our first debate we ever got into was whether or not to hire a sales rep or help in the office. Thankfully, I won that debate; I remember it well because I did not win many. But I didn't need to. Darren Squires and Kathy Marshall were soon to follow.
Part 3: A Split in the Trail
I was not mature enough yet to understand what we were building or what my place in it needed to be. I was 24. I missed my family. I missed home. And ultimately I wasn't emotionally stable enough to be the partner Jennifer deserved.
So I left. Moved back with my family, and left again.
I needed to spread my wings. I wanted the glory of something more challenging than a WordPress hamster wheel. I needed to become my own person. And I needed to know that I could make it on my own. I wanted to make apps. I ended up getting an insane amount of experience developing elearning applications, travel applications, patient management software for companies like American Heart Association, Texas A&M, etc. I got to network on my own accord, joining the Dallas CEO club with John Brown. Developed a relationship with Cuban Companies' Cheri Garcia where we got the marketing and branding for capital-backed products.
The next few years were an expensive education. I built a PPC agency and software-development company with fourteen employees. I specialized in orthopedic, bariatric, and spine practices, white-labeled for agencies in Dallas and New York, and even partnered in a bariatric surgery center. Then one indictment knocked out seventy-five percent of my revenue overnight. That one taught me more about concentration risk than any MBA program could have.
I came back to CI Web Group as CMO for a minute. The timing was not right. Jennifer had already built a machine full of people who were good at pulling the levers it needed. This time, I left on good terms, having developed a sense of maturity about myself. That was progress.
After that, I went where the hard problems were. I partnered in a restaurant and bar right before COVID—which, in hindsight, is a hilarious way to prove you are comfortable with risk. I worked on a science-based meal-prep company and a Dallas apparel brand. I wrote my first AI patent, licensed/sold it to SmartSort AI, all of this way before AI became the thing people put in a pitch deck because it makes investors lean forward. I built applications using NER and NLP when it still meant you had to explain those acronyms to almost everyone in the room.
I served as EVP of Intellectual Property for a venture-backed company. I was CTO of an eighty-million-dollar cash-pay medical lab and partnered in a blood lab. I built an EMR/EHR system and a laboratory information system because apparently I still cannot see a complicated system without wondering whether I can build it better. I built membership systems for Rural Water ecosystems, conference management, grant management and GIS systems with my protege Marcos, who I later brought with me to CI Web Group. Marcos was a 17 year old lifeguard that I immediately identified as being just like me in almost every way; in the way that he thought.
Then I spent three months in Italy as CTO for the largest last-mile logistics field-service company in Europe. Milan was incredible, yet I had never felt more alone.
But I learned. I learned how to deconstruct and reconstruct large international teams of developers. I left my other protege Brandon in Italy to work with that team until he had cut his teeth enough to come to CI Web Group.
Now I get to watch some of that same thing happen with my son, Braedn. He came into CI Web Group at eighteen to write content. Then he started doing what comes naturally to him: looking upstream. If an output is bad, he does not just fix the output; he fixes what is producing it. That instinct has taken him from content into AI infrastructure, and he has earned every bit of that ground himself.
At some point, Braedn will need to spread his own wings too. He will need to build things I did not build, make decisions I would not make, and find out who he is when he is not standing under my shadow. That is not always an easy thing to accept as a dad. But I cannot ask him to stay under my wing while claiming I needed Jennifer to let me leave hers.
Part 4: Return of the Prodigal Son
When I came back to CI Web Group, I did not come back because I needed a job. I came back because I could see what was happening.
AI was going to change this industry whether people were ready or not. I had spent years building software, infrastructure, data systems, healthcare platforms, logistics tools, and AI applications. Jennifer had spent years building the company, the customer trust, the brand, and the team. For the first time, the timing was right for both of us.
I started as a contractor with a deal tied to savings. Financially, it was a much better deal for me. I could have stayed on that contract, done the work, and made a lot more money.
But the culture I walked into was bureaucratic in a way neither Jennifer nor I had ever been. Titles mattered. Reporting lines mattered. Who reported to whom mattered. I had a whole group of people who did not know me from Tom, had no idea what I had built before I got there, and were not going to take direction from a contractor no matter how much sense it made.
So I gave up the contract and became an employee because I had to play the title game before I could change the game. I did not do it for the title. I did it because it was the only way to get close enough to break Jennifer out of the concrete shoes people had put on her.
What I walked into was Jennifer being told to slow down, add another process, have another meeting, and wait for consensus. I knew what that did to her. I also knew that kicking the door in on day one would not fix it.
So I started planning. For almost a year, I built and prepared the systems we would need before they were ever the standard. I knew I had to move every piece on the chessboard into place first: the infrastructure, security, data, deployment, development process, build process, and the people who would carry it. I was quietly building the way out before trying to force anybody to walk through it.
The only one who knew the bigger plan was my protege Marcos. I could not have been able to do without: someone who knew me, knew my patterns, who saw problems as I saw them.
By the time it was ready to put in place, we had our own containerized infrastructure and a secure WordPress farm that cut hosting costs by a factor of ten. We had relational databases, ETL pipelines, data warehouses, monorepos, APIs, and the systems that let us move fast without praying something did not fall apart behind the scenes.
Third-party software could get us close, but close was not what we were looking for. Every platform somebody else owned came with a ceiling somebody else had decided on. I knew a perfect score was possible, but only if we owned the software, the infrastructure, and the process from end to end.
The most important thing Jennifer has given me is not a title. It is autonomy. She gave me enough trust to plan, prepare, and then make the change when the pieces were finally where they needed to be. That is not something I take lightly. It is probably the biggest vote of confidence I have ever been given.
Kevin gave me the first example of what was possible. Jennifer gave me a place to turn it into something real.
FIN: The Truth About Jennifer Bagley
I have known Jennifer longer than anyone at CI Web Group. Longer than anyone except her parents. I proposed to her when I was too young to understand what a proposal even meant, and she was my favorite babysitter. She said no. It has been a long time since she has been wrong about much.
I have watched people misunderstand her for most of my life, but by her own desire and design. She is the most intentional person. And in spite of what she would have you believe: Her feelings are bigger than anyone I have ever met. That is not a weakness. It is not a drama. It is depth. She cares bigger than most people know how to care, loves people more than they love themselves, and she protects those feelings with the same intensity. The people who only see the stage version of Jennifer miss the whole damn point.
I have always looked up to her. I have always been protective of her—sometimes in spite of her, sometimes in spite of the people around her, and sometimes ... many times in spite of myself, especially when it's not understood or perceived and (for some reason) "trying" to be difficult.
She is the yin to my yang. She sees the opportunity and I see the system that can carry it. She makes people believe, and I make sure the floor does not fall out from under them once they start moving. It is my belief in her and her belief in me that creates the reality of the road we travel.
I would not be who I am without Kevin. I would not be where I am without Jennifer.
And my why, is my choice, when I realized: Individually, we can both hold the title “unstoppable.”, but together, our maximum potential is multiplied.
Hands up. Smile the whole ride.
— Chris Heney, Chief Technology Officer, CI Web Group · August 2026