From Chevron to Cookie Classes: My 2016 → 2026 Glow-Up

Since the internet has decided to collectively revisit 2016 and ask, “What in the mason jar happened to us?”, I figured it was time for my own glow-up contribution. Because nothing captures the past decade of my life better than powdered sugar, economic pivoting, and a stubborn refusal to do things the normal way.

2015: The Birth Year (Of Both a Baby and a Business)

Sweet Cheeks technically began in 2015, the same year my son Bryson was born. I was set to go back to my regular job after maternity leave, but holding a newborn has a way of making you rethink everything, specifically whether spending so much time away from my son was the motherhood path I wanted for myself.

Around that time, I had already been teaching myself how to decorate cakes. Not in a glamorous culinary-school montage way, but during summer jobs working for other bakeries. That experience taught me two very important things:

  1. I loved making beautiful baked goods

  2. I really wanted my work to be my work — not something created with someone else’s sugar, on someone else’s time

Owning my time became a theme long before I had words for it.

When I told my family I was thinking about turning baking into my full-time job, they were wildly supportive. When I told my mom the business name would be Sweet Cheeks, she told me it was “too edgy.” That was all the encouragement I needed to print the business cards. Sweet Cheeks was born. Huh, who would’ve thunk, 2 births in one year?

2016: Rustic-Chic Era + Baby + Facebook-as-a-Website

By 2016 the business was gaining traction and we moved into our first home. Back then I was still doing a mix of cakes and cookies, though cookies were creeping up like a sugar-coated takeover. I taught myself cookie decorating the way many of us did, through years of trial, error (so much error), experiments, ugly batches, and eventually recipes that actually behaved the way I wanted. Eventually, over time, I curated my own recipes that I loved, my customers raved about and that I was proud of.

Aesthetically, 2016 was a wild time capsule:

  • mason jars everywhere

  • florals on command

  • chalkboards and “rustic” everything

  • wood grain textures

  • thick horizontal stripes

  • chevron (our collective villain era)

  • elephants and woodland creatures

  • navy + mint

  • and gray…so much gray

Photography was: find the cleanest corner of my mother’s kitchen and crop out any evidence of appliances. Editing was: adjust brightness once and hope for the best.

Marketing was: exclusively Facebook. No website. No Instagram strategy. No funnels. My Facebook page was my storefront, gallery, and customer service department.

Money energy in 2016 was a three-part medley:

  • undercharging

  • hustle/survival mode

  • polite girl pricing apologizing for existing

If someone needed a navy & mint elephant baby shower set for $35, we made it work. Diapers are expensive.

2019–2022: Babies, Pivots, & Leaving Cakes Behind

In 2019 my daughter Jolie arrived, and I continued doing cakes and cookies until 2022, at which point I officially phased out cakes for the general public. Now I only make them for my own kids and a tiny circle of very lucky friends. Buttercream only. Fondant and I never really had a relationship.

Then 2020 hit, which was a plot twist none of us ordered. Events vanished overnight, my husband lost his job, and Sweet Cheeks suddenly needed to evolve fast or die. I pivoted into online cookie classes, and the business exploded. I quadrupled my revenue during a time when most of us were questioning whether banana bread counted as a personality trait, and let’s be honest, a very scary and tragic time for many. 

2021–2025: The Expansion Era

In 2021 I competed on Food Network’s Christmas Cookie Challenge, won, and soon found myself traveling the country teaching classes. Suddenly I was in hotel rooms sorting piping bags and talking about royal icing to rooms full of strangers, and it felt extremely right.

Then in 2023 we sold our old house, bought a new one, and opened a full storefront in downtown Amesbury. Sweet Cheeks went from “scrappy mom kitchen” to “real business with a door that locks and a line out front on Saturdays.”

By 2025, things escalated again:

  • continued travel teaching

  • Mini Manager Program launched

  • Cookie Cart (affectionately called Sweetie) rolled in for weddings & events

  • digital classes + recipes expanded

  • recipe sales became an actual revenue stream instead of a cute idea

2026: The Current Chapter (AKA: We Ball)

We’re only partway through 2026 and already the plot refuses to stay chill. My husband lost his job (because apparently we thrive under chaos), the digital Mini Manager course is launching so other shops can experience themed child-led capitalism, and I’m headed to Orlando for CookieCon this June… which also conveniently doubles as my birthday trip.

There are also exciting projects I can’t talk about yet, which is very annoying for me and very intriguing for you.

So Why Tell This Story?

Because when I started Sweet Cheeks, I wasn’t trying to build a brand or win awards or open a storefront. I was just trying to:

  • make enough money to support my family

  • have work that belonged to me

  • and not completely lose my identity in motherhood

Ten years later I:

  • run a storefront

  • teach nationwide

  • travel for cookies

  • sell digital products

  • have a recipe line

  • run a youth empowerment program

  • operate a cookie cart

  • work with my kids instead of around them

  • and built something that feels like mine

It wasn’t always aesthetic, profitable, or obvious. It was built on long nights, royal icing, tears, caffeine, pivots, self doubt, stubbornness, and a decade of figuring it out in public.

If you’ve been here for any part of this wild ride, THANK YOU. And if you’re new here, welcome. I can’t promise perfection, but I can promise progress, cookies, creativity, and a little bit of chaos.

And apparently… we’re just getting started.