Unfortunately, for those expecting a weekly dose of tips, tricks, and rants about marketing and SaaS, this edition doesn’t have any of that.
Maybe it’s the changing of the seasons. The fact that my kiddos are getting older, wiser, and needing me in different ways. The heavy nature of the world around us. The constant weight in the news cycles that feels impossible to comprehend. The thought that I’m approaching my 32nd birthday this fall (only 8 years shy of the age my dad was when he passed). The feeling of the world moving at an increasingly fast speed, or so it seems.
But all of these things have me feeling very introspective these past few months. And this week, my family and I said our earthly farewells to my loving grandmother. Everyone, literally everyone who knew her, called her Granny. She was 88 years young. Courageous, and painstakingly independent, right til the very end.
It feels impossible to think about marketing this week. Instead it feels like maybe the right time to create a little balance and talk about how often we pull ourselves out of this niche in the world we’ve found and built our careers around, and instead focus on living in the present, and prioritizing the tangible.
Granny taught me more about business than any marketing framework ever could, though she never set foot in a boardroom or optimized a single funnel. She knew everyone's name at the grocery store. She remembered birthdays without calendar reminders. She asked about your kids, your health, your garden—and she actually listened to the answers.
She built relationships the old-fashioned way: by showing up, consistently, for decades.
Somewhere along the way, we convinced ourselves that being busy equals being important. That responding to Slack at 9 PM makes us valuable. That missing dinner with our families to optimize one more campaign is just "what it takes" to get ahead.
I've been guilty of this. Heck, I've probably written content that perpetuated it.
But watching Granny in her final weeks reminded me of something we seem to have forgotten in our always-on, growth-at-all-costs world: the people who remember you won't remember your Q3 pipeline numbers. They'll remember how you made them feel.
As marketers, we're obsessed with optimization. We A/B test subject lines but not how we spend our evenings. We segment audiences but not our priorities. We track conversion rates but not conversation rates with the people who matter most.
The irony? The most successful people I know—the ones building sustainable businesses and careers—have figured out that presence is more powerful than productivity.
My client who takes Fridays off for consistent 3-day weekends? His business is thriving because his team sees him living his values and encouraging his team to do the same. The CMO who blocks her calendar for family dinner every night? Her team respects boundaries because she models them.
If you're reading this while multitasking, stop. Close the other tabs. Put down your phone.
This is your permission slip to:
Leave work at work sometimes
Say no to that networking event if you're exhausted
Have dinner without discussing work at all
Take a walk without a podcast in your ears
Call your loved ones for no reason at all other than to say hi and check in
The marketing world will keep spinning. The campaigns will still be there tomorrow. But this moment—right now—is all we're guaranteed.
Better Humans, Better Marketers
Might be surprising, but taking time to be human actually makes us better at our jobs.
When I step away from my laptop and really listen to people, I understand customer pain points more deeply. When I'm present with my kids, I remember what it's like to see the world with fresh eyes—something our campaigns desperately need. When I prioritize relationships over metrics, I'm reminded that behind every click, every conversion, every "user" is a real person with their own Granny stories.
The best marketing doesn't come from hustle culture. It comes from humans who understand other humans because they've taken time to be human themselves.
A Different Kind of Growth
Maybe it's time we redefined growth.
Yes, grow your ARR. But also grow your capacity for presence. Grow your ability to disconnect. Grow deeper relationships with fewer people instead of surface-level connections with everyone.
Grow into the kind of person who, at 88, is surrounded by people who love them not for what they achieved, but for who they were.
This week, I'm not thinking about funnels or frameworks. I'm thinking about Granny's laugh, her stories, and the way she made everyone feel like the most important person in the room.
I'm thinking about how we might all be a little more like that.
The marketing tactics will be here next week. But this moment—with the people you love—is happening right now.
Don't miss it for a Slack notification.
Here's to growth—the kind that actually counts,
Kaylee ✌


This is beautiful, Kaylee, thank you ❤️ This hit home for me: Grow into the kind of person who, at 88, is surrounded by people who love them not for what they achieved, but for who they were.
Thank you for sharing despite this being a week with such heaviness.
Your thoughtfulness is a gift. Encountering that depth of mind enriches my life.
Granny sounds like she was an awesome lady. I’m so sorry for your loss.
It sounds like she was deeply attuned to people’s narratives. And, it seems as if that genuine care about what others had to say made her a piece of each person’s heart whom she encountered.
It is a reminder, for me, of what an incredible force of nature the act of listening is.
It’s funny: I went to grad school for theatre. I studied voice, speech, singing, dance etc. But the most useful and profound takeaway was what you said about disconnecting, reframing, and taking in everything anew. Deep listening— not just hearing— with your whole being reanimates, revitalizes. It invites the audience in and it is the in-breath so few of us forget to take in our age of breathless excitability.
Thanks for sharing this.