I work with established small and mid-sized businesses — the kind built on real expertise, real outcomes, and years of doing the work well.
Most of my clients share three things:
Many work in behavioral health, professional services, and other fields where reputation and trust aren’t optional. If that sounds like you, we’ll probably get along.
I started Omni Incite because I was tired of watching good businesses get hurt by bad advice.
I’d see a woman who built something real — a therapy practice, a boutique studio, a consultancy rooted in years of hard-earned expertise — sit across from a vendor who handed her a strategy that sounded impressive and cost a fortune and never moved a single number that mattered. She’d pay the invoice. She’d wait. Nothing would change. And the runway she’d worked so hard to build would get a little shorter.
I’d see her sign up for the master class, the inner circle, the six-week intensive — convinced that if she just learned enough about funnels and pixels and content calendars, she could finally do this herself. Months later, she’d be exhausted, half-fluent in a language she never wanted to speak, and quietly grieving the work she actually loved. She didn’t get into therapy, or design, or coaching to become a marketer. But the marketing kept demanding more of her, and the business she’d built to give her freedom started to feel like a second job she was failing at.
She didn't get into therapy, or design, or coaching to become a marketer.
I’d see treatment centers and healthcare practices pour money into traffic — real traffic, impressive numbers — and still not get the families who actually needed them through the door. Lots of clicks. Lots of impressions. Almost no admissions. The dashboards looked healthy and the phones stayed quiet.
And underneath every one of those stories was the same thing: a strategy that wasn’t built for the business it was supposed to serve. Built for a template. Built for a trend. Built for the agency’s process. Built for everything except the actual person trying to do good work in a market that had stopped making sense.
I started Omni Incite because that gap shouldn’t exist. The women and the founders doing the real work deserve a marketing partner who starts with their business, not a playbook. Who measures what actually matters, not what’s easy to count. And who has the discipline to tell them when the answer is less, not more.
If you’ve been that woman, or you’re watching one of your peers become her, you’re not bad at marketing. You were sold the wrong thing.
That’s the work. That’s why I do it.
I help businesses figure out what matters, what doesn’t, and what to do next.
Sometimes that means sharper positioning. Sometimes it means rewriting how the business is described across every place it shows up online. Sometimes it means rebuilding the content structure, or taking an honest look at whether the website is carrying its weight at all.
The point isn’t to force every client into the same playbook. It’s to make sure the strategy fits the business — and the moment the business is actually in.
I’m not in the business of making noise. I don’t prescribe “more content,” and I never confuse movement with progress. Good strategy reduces confusion, creates a sequence, and gives the business a more credible way to move forward.
If it can’t be executed in the real world, it’s not a strategy. It’s decoration.
I founded Omni Incite after twenty years of watching strong organizations struggle to communicate the value of what they actually did.
Before launching the firm, I led marketing inside companies where the stakes were real and the margin for vague strategy was thin. I joined Roche Molecular Systems as their first digital marketer and helped build the global digital function from the ground up. Earlier work connected me to brands including HSBC, Wells Fargo, Lexus, and BMW.
That experience didn’t just give me a résumé. It taught me what good strategy actually costs when it’s wrong — and what it’s worth when it’s right. In regulated, trust-sensitive environments, you can’t afford to chase trends that don’t hold up under pressure. You learn to start with the diagnosis, not the prescription. That discipline is the lens I bring to every client today.
Roche / Roche Molecular Systsems · Wells Fargo · HSBC . Diebold Nixdorf · Lexus · BMW
I work from Florida’s Space Coast — a rural area that time forgot, tucked between Cape Canaveral and Oak Hill. Cattle still graze the pastures in between. The fish camps still line the Mosquito Lagoon to the north. And the rockets still go up, almost every week now.
When we first moved here, the house would shake, and we’d run out into the yard to watch them climb. My son would point. I’d hold my coffee and forget to drink it. Now they go up so often that he sleeps right through them. The sky lights up, and nobody looks.
I think about that a lot when I’m working with founders right now. The world has gotten loud in a way it wasn’t five years ago. AI, search, social, everyone with an opinion and a newsletter. The first wave of it was thrilling. You wanted to run outside for every launch. But you can’t run outside for everything anymore — there isn’t enough of you. The work now is figuring out which sky to look up at and which to let pass overhead.
Most days, I start with coffee and a long walk before I open a single tab. Some mornings it’s the porch. Some mornings it’s Jetty Park, watching the sun come up over the jetties before the port wakes up. The best strategy work I do happens before the noise starts, and that’s the same gift I’m trying to give the founders I work with. A little less noise. A little more clarity. Room to think before the day asks something of you.
If we end up working together, that’s the posture I’m bringing to your business.
If your business has real expertise behind it but the visibility is uneven, the messaging is off, or the priorities keep shifting every time the market does — the first step isn’t more activity.
It’s a conversation.
Not a sales call. Not a pitch. A real conversation about what you’ve built, where the gaps actually are, and whether the work I do is the right fit for the moment you’re in. If it’s not, I’ll tell you. If it is, we’ll talk about what comes next.
Not ready to talk yet? Read the latest Brief instead — it’s where I show my actual thinking on what’s changing in AI search and what founders should do about it.