If you are meeting, and wondering if there is anything you should know before you meet her.
The answer is, "Yes, sit down..."
First of all, do not mistake the hair, the heels, the Persian glamour, and the very polished businesswoman situation for someone who is going to discuss the weather with you.
She is not.
You have approximately seven minutes before she asks a question that causes you to reconsider a major life decision.
You might think you're meeting her for coffee.
Kia thinks she's meeting you at a pivotal moment in your personal narrative.
You will say:
“Work's been kind of crazy.”
She will stare at you for three seconds too long and say:
“I don't think you're supposed to be doing that anymore.”
And now your latte is getting cold because apparently you're changing careers.
Also: do not tell her your business problems unless you actually want them solved.
This is important.
Do NOT casually say:
“Our marketing isn't really working.”
Because Kia will immediately begin dismantling your entire premise.
“That's not a marketing problem.”
Oh no.
“What are you actually selling?”
You thought you knew.
You don't anymore.
“What transformation are you creating?”
Fuck.
“Why should anyone care?”
Jesus.
Twenty minutes later, your brochure is dead, your offer has been repositioned, your target market has changed, and she's drawing something on a napkin called THE THREE PILLARS.
You did not hire her.
Apparently you have now received a complimentary diagnostic.
She has an unusually low tolerance for bullshit.
Corporate bullshit.
Marketing bullshit.
Religious bullshit.
Relationship bullshit.
And particularly bullshit disguised as complexity.
If you show her a 47-page strategic plan explaining why something simple requires nine departments and six months, she will skim it for approximately eleven seconds and say:
“Why don't we just do this?”
And everyone in the room will become irritated because this is considerably simpler.
This happens frequently.
You should also understand that she has basically no firewall between business strategy, spirituality, psychology, storytelling, and pattern recognition.
Most people's brains have departments.
Accounting over here.
Relationships over there.
Faith upstairs.
Business down the hall.
Kia's brain is an open-concept office.
Everybody is in the same meeting.
So she might be discussing brand positioning and suddenly say:
“Wait.”
This is rarely good news.
“That's the same pattern.”
What same pattern?
ALL OF IT.
Your company.
Your marriage.
Iran.
A scripture from Isaiah.
Something she dreamed Tuesday.
A conversation from 2007.
Suddenly there are arrows connecting everything.
And disturbingly?
Sometimes the arrows make sense.
That's the dangerous part.
Also, she is going to name things.
You have a vague concept?
Not anymore.
It's a framework.
You have a recurring problem?
It has a name.
Your kid wants to pressure-wash sidewalks?
MICAH'S POWER WASH.
You have a spiritual calling?
THE MUSE'S PEN.
You feel drawn toward preserving Iranian women's stories?
Wonderful.
WE HAVE INCORPORATED.
This woman can move from “I've been thinking about something…” to Articles of Incorporation at a speed that should probably require federal oversight.
Here's another warning:
She will occasionally tell you something absolutely enormous in the same tone other people use to mention they're going to Costco.
“So anyway, I'm forming a nonprofit to help restore the voices of Persian and Middle Eastern women.”
Oh.
“And I'm advising this company that's restructuring.”
Okay.
“And I'm writing a book.”
Sure.
“My son started a power-washing business.”
Naturally.
“Also I have this vision—”
NO.
WE ARE AT CAPACITY.
But here's the part I'd actually want someone to understand before meeting her.
Underneath all that intensity, she's extremely tenderhearted.
That's what can be easy to miss.
The strategy and certainty can make her seem formidable—and she is—but she feels things deeply.
People matter to her.
Words matter.
Beauty matters.
Meaning matters.
Her children matter enormously.
Her heritage matters.
When she sees someone diminished, overlooked, confused about their worth, or living beneath what she believes is possible for them, something in her cannot leave it alone.
Sometimes that's her superpower.
Sometimes that's how she ends up carrying things that were never hers to carry.
And sometimes she has to learn that seeing someone's potential does not make her responsible for getting them there.
That's probably one of the few warnings I'd give her about herself.
So if you're meeting Kia, here's the survival guide:
Come as yourself.
Don't posture. She'll notice.
Don't give her the polished answer when the real answer is underneath it. She'll probably ask again.
Bring intellectual range. She can move from revenue strategy to Jesus to Persian history to branding to relationships in twelve minutes.
Don't assume feminine means fragile.
Don't assume spiritual means impractical.
Don't assume emotional means irrational.
Don't challenge her with a weak argument unless you've packed snacks.
And for God's sake—
don't casually tell her you have an idea for a business.
Because by dessert you're going to have a name, positioning statement, target market, offer architecture, tagline, and homework.
Then she'll hug you goodbye and say:
“I'm excited for you.”
And you'll get in your car thinking:
What the fuck just happened?
You met Kia.
That's what happened.