Brandi Sanner

Motherhood Made Me Better at Business, Not Worse

I became a mother before I became a college student. Most people hear that and expect the next sentence to be about everything I had to give up.

I'm here to tell you the opposite story-the one about everything motherhood gave me.

I have three daughters. Three young women who are watching me every single day, whether I'm ready for the audience or not.

They watch how I talk about my job.

They watch whether I answer emails during dinner or put my phone down.

They watch how I talk about myself when a deal falls through-and how I talk about myself when it doesn't.

Long before I'm anyone's boss, vendor, or top performer, I'm the first definition of what it means to be a woman that my daughters will ever know.

That's not pressure-it's purpose.

And it's the reason I have never believed I had to choose between the boardroom and the backyard.

The Long Way Around

My career didn't start with a five-year plan. It started in local tax administration-not exactly the industry that shows up on anyone's "dream job" vision board.

But I paid attention.

I learned the systems, the pain points, and the people behind the paperwork. I became genuinely good at understanding how local government works. Somewhere along the way, that expertise turned into an opportunity I never saw coming: selling tax and license administration software for one of the largest GovTech companies in the country.

I don't think that path was an accident.

I believe God places you exactly where you need to be to learn what you'll need later-even when the "later" isn't visible yet.

What I know for certain is this: nobody hands you a map for a career like mine.

You build it one competent, curious, consistently showing-up day at a time.

The Sales Job Nobody Told You About

Here's something I wish more women heard earlier: there is no such thing as a sales degree.

Nobody graduates from college with a diploma that says Bachelor of Closing Deals.

And that's exactly why sales is one of the most accessible, high-ceiling careers available to women in corporate America-regardless of the market, industry, or product.

You don't need a pedigree.

You need to find something you genuinely believe in, become relentlessly knowledgeable about it, and establish yourself as the person in the room who understands it better than anyone else.

Subject matter expertise is the real degree.

Once you have it, sales rewards your knowledge, your relationships, and your results-not your résumé, not your gender, and not your willingness to quietly wait for permission in a cubicle.

For mothers, sales careers can offer something rare: high earning potential and meaningful flexibility.

Commission structures reward results rather than hours worked. Territory- and relationship-based roles often allow you to build your calendar around your life instead of forcing your life around your calendar.

That combination-ambition and flexibility-is exactly what so many women are told they can't have.

We can.

I'm living proof, and I know many women who are, too.

Family First Doesn't Mean Career Last

Here's where I need to be honest with you: "family first" is not code for "small dreams."

I built my career around a family-first philosophy, and I still climb-intentionally, ambitiously, every single day.

Working from home taught me that balance isn't some magical, perfectly even split.

It's a series of intentional decisions made over and over again.

Some days that means closing my laptop for school pickup and finishing a proposal at 9:00 p.m. after bedtime stories.

Other days it means blocking my calendar from 3:00 to 5:30 because that's when my house gets loud, joyful, and wonderfully chaotic-and I want to be part of it.

Working from home gives you the tool.

How you use that tool is still up to you.

I've learned to fiercely protect a few non-negotiables:

• Calendar boundaries are a sign of respect, not weakness. Blocking family time on your work calendar is a business decision, not an apology.
• Communicate proactively, not defensively. Let your team know when you're available-and when you're not-before anyone has to ask.
• Batch your intensity. Some hours are for full-throttle selling. Others are for full-throttle parenting. Trying to do both halfway, all day, serves no one.
• Let your children see the process, not just the outcome. My daughters don't just see promotions. They see the preparation, the late nights, the wins, and the disappointments-because that's the real lesson.

Setting the Standard

My daughters will grow up and become whoever they choose to be.

But they'll do so having watched a mother who never treated femininity or motherhood as a professional liability.

I want them to see a woman who negotiated her worth, took the big meeting, made the bold ask-and still made it home for dinner more often than not.

I want them to know that softness and ambition are not opposites.

That being someone's mother makes you sharper-not softer in the ways that matter-and more decisive, not less.

If you're a mother reading this while juggling a laptop in one hand and negotiating over snacks with the other, I see you.

And I want you to hear this clearly:

There is a path in corporate America that doesn't require you to shrink your family to grow your career.

It may not look like the traditional ladder.

It may begin in an unglamorous industry before leading somewhere you never imagined.

It may mean choosing sales because it rewards your expertise and gives you room to breathe.

But the path exists.

And you don't need anyone's permission to walk it.

Take the big swing.

Set the standard.

Let your daughters-and every woman watching-see exactly what's possible when you refuse to choose.