If you asked me when I was 16 years old what defined me, I would have said "being a basketball player." My identity was forged on the court. From shooting 100s of shots on holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas to perfect my jumper to traveling across the country to showcase my talents in front of collegiate coaches. Through that journey, a Division 1 athletic career emerged that took me from Florida State to Rutgers and URI. It was a journey of incredible highs and devastating lows. The lows, it turns out, taught me everything and morphed me into who I am today.
Sports teaches you a lot. Sports taught me that I always played with a chip on my shoulder, coming from a city like Boston not known for producing great women's basketball players. But it also taught me… that I was made of glass. My career quickly turned from filling the stat sheet with points and assists to being defined by the injuries I endured. I tore my ACL not once, not twice, but three separate times. Each injury was even more grueling than the last. From battling blood clots to getting as large as the Michelin tire man to battling tears of feeling worthless, I was constantly on a mental, physical, and emotional rollercoaster.
But through that struggle, I learned again. I learned what resilience truly meant and I learned that there needs to be a better way to support myself and other athletes who've been through what I've gone through, have struggled in any capacity, and those who will struggle in the future. While my athletic career ends as the starting point guard on a championship-winning D1 team (Go Rhody), the journey to get there is why we built Complete.
My experience revealed a deeper, systemic problem in the world of athletics. While I was fighting to rebuild my body and mind, I was also navigating the daily chaos of being a student-athlete. Schedules were managed in one place, communication in another, and critical wellness support was either an afterthought or completely disconnected from my daily life. The very systems that were supposed to support me were fragmented and inefficient, adding another layer of stress to an already overwhelming situation.
I realized the problem wasn't a lack of effort from my coaches or trainers; it was a lack of the right tools. They were as buried in the administrative chaos as we were in our athletic commitments. The link between my physical recovery, my mental state, and my daily schedule was obvious to me, but invisible to the systems meant to manage it all.
Through that, Complete was born.
I founded this company to build the solution I wish I'd had. I wanted to create a single, intuitive platform that treats operational efficiency and holistic athlete well-being as two sides of the same coin, because they are. You cannot have one without the other.
Complete is more than just a software platform; it's a new standard of care and technology. It's a system designed to give coaches and administrators their time back so they can focus on what they do best: mentoring and developing people. It's a tool that gives athletes the integrated, proactive support they need to thrive, not just as players, but as whole human beings.
My journey taught me that true strength isn't just about what you endure on the court; it's about the support system you have off of it. Our mission is to ensure that every athlete, at every level, has that support system, seamlessly integrated into their daily life. This isn't just a business to me; it's my way of making sure the next generation of athletes has a more Complete (pun intended) path to success.