When I first decided I wanted to launch the SheHive, my mentor invited me to come talk to him about my idea - but only if I brought a prototype with me. The SheHive was, in my original vision, a three-story Victorian home, so I got the idea to layout my prototype in a doll house. I'd decorate each room the way I saw the SheHive in my head.

Only problem? I had just quit my job - I didn't have the money to buy a doll house at the time. (Well, I did - but my money views were very skewed at the time). So I opted to lay out my dream in a $2.69 green, spiral sketchbook with a dolphin on the cover from Rite Aid.

I have always been told to follow my gut.

Little did I know my most joyful triumphs, and deepest disappointments, would all somehow resonate around the sacred area between the base of my bra and the band of my jeans.

I’ve been a dancer since the time I could walk. I learned at a very early age to rely on a mirror to tell me the way things should be. It told me about my body and my talent. I learned what looked good and was pleasing, and what was out of place.

I was a natural when it came to dancing. As a kid, I was thin and lanky, with long legs, and feet that arched like dipping swans without a lick of effort. Dancing came naturally, and I felt wonderful in the praise and admiration of the audience.

This was probably the beginning of my torrid love affair with praise and criticism.  When I was doing everything right, I was on top of the world. If I received a correction from my instructor, I was devastated, especially when it came to my body.

In Season 1, Episode 4, hosts Ursula, Sonya and Jacki discuss whether women have to wear makeup, eyebrows that fall off, shaving nipples (yeah, you read that right), the choice to have children  and what it means to fail as a leader sometimes.