One spring night in 2005, I was walking back to my New York apartment still energized from a major professional win. As CEO of Deutsche Bank’s U.S. Private Wealth Management division, I had just led a transformation: turning an annual $130-million loss into a division with a 25% profit margin. I was managing more than $50 billion in assets and had carved out a place for myself as one of few women in Wall Street’s top echelons.
By every traditional metric, I “made it,” but as I walked home that night, a question hit me like a freight train: Is this all there is? I didn’t feel triumphant; I felt hollow. A quiet dissatisfaction had begun whispering inside me, and now it was screaming. That uneasy feeling would be the catalyst for the most defining transformation of my leadership — and my life.
A few months later I shocked everyone by retiring at 44. On the surface it looked like the ultimate career move — leaving at the peak — but inside I was beginning what I now call my wilderness journey. I stepped away from Wall Street not to rest but to search.
For the next three years, I chased purpose. I volunteered with at-risk youth, embarked upon philanthropic missions in developing countries, and threw myself into Bible study and prayer. I assumed I’d find a new calling in giving back. I focused on orphan care, community development, and children’s health services.
But wherever I went, I kept seeing something others missed — investment opportunities. I realized the world’s biggest problems were too vast for philanthropy alone; private capital had to be part of the solution. It wasn’t just about giving — it was about building. I started questioning everything I thought I knew.
Then in 2007 I joined a think tank exploring a radical question: How do you use capitalism to solve social problems? That question unlocked something deep inside me. It reframed my faith, my leadership, and my understanding of business.
I had always believed that businesses rooted in integrity, strong governance, and care for their communities would ultimately outperform those without those values. But now I saw with clarity that business itself could be a force for good.
In 2008 I founded TriLinc Global with a simple, defiant belief: Investors don’t have to sacrifice returns to do good. It wasn’t a popular idea: Wall Street saw me as too idealistic; the impact world thought I was too commercial. I was called a wolf in sheep’s clothing — and a sheep in wolf’s clothing. But I kept going, fueled by something deeper than strategy: conviction.
Today TriLinc has invested more than $1.5 billion in responsible small and mid-sized businesses across 35 countries — businesses that create jobs, build local economies, and tackle community needs. We’ve done it while delivering competitive, market-rate returns to investors.
Capitalism, when rooted in values and guided by purpose, can be a powerful agent of change. Looking back, that quiet moment of unease in 2005 wasn’t a breakdown — it was a breakthrough. That was when I began to ask a different kind of question, not just, “What am I building?” but, “Why?” That question changed everything.
